Cheaters Anonymous

chapter 3 | headliner

The thing about phone calls is that you can pretend like they never happened. You can ignore the call, delete the number, get rid of the voicemail.

With memories, we're not that lucky. There's no deleting the past or erasing the thoughts. You can't forget someone or how they made you feel, even if you bury it somewhere deep.

I waited a few seconds before typing out Addilyn Field's name in the student database. I had a few minutes until the bell rang for the first period, and I felt like I was in one of those murder mysteries trying not to get caught even though I wasn't technically doing anything bad. I had the right to use the journalism office computer, and it wasn't like it was illegal to look up a student's history.

A dead girl's history.

I groaned, trying to force my mind to think of something- anything- else.

Chocolate chip cookies. Rom Coms. Bubble Tea.

Ryan Reynolds in a dress shirt.

Ryan Reynolds without any shirt.

I smiled at the visuals, until the results loaded and Addie's face pulled up on the screen. Underneath the basic information, there were several articles, posts, and photos from her time at Calington.

I crossed my fingers under the desk, hoping Anna wouldn't come in early today as I scanned through the results. I clicked on one of the photos that showed Addie in a glittery red dress, her wavy brunette hair tied back into a tight bun. She was standing in the middle of the stage with the spotlight shining down on her, and you could tell she knew she was the star of the show. But the part I noticed the most was her smile- it was a real smile, big enough so that you could see her teeth weren't perfectly straight.

She looked happy. This photo couldn't have been that much before the news of her suicide had come out, leaving the student body to mill over the tragedy or forget it even happened. I wondered how photos could be so deceiving. 

I clicked through the rest of the album and zoomed in on the girl standing next to her in several of them- Vanessa Garcia. Curly black hair, sharp nose, signature maroon lipstick. She had been on the dance team too, and she had been in my gym class last year.

Maybe Vanessa was the anonymous user messaging me. She didn't seem like the whole hidden identity type of girl, but it did make sense- the person had said they were good friends with Addie. And the account hadn't been online since last night, which meant the person could very likely be a student.

I scrolled through the student database and saw that Vanessa had English with Flores third period, which was right by my history class. If I was fast, I could catch her in between classes. I quickly deleted my search history before shoving my things into my backpack, and started to walk out. Before I could push open the door, I saw Ellis sitting in one of the cushioned chairs in the main office. I immediately stepped backwards, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

As usual, he was wearing a slick pressed white shirt and pants, our signature men's school uniform, but his suit jacket was off and draped over his shoulder.

There were a few things I noticed then- the way his features were almost perfect except for the bump on his nose from being broken a few too many times, the bruise from yesterday slowly healing on his high cheekbones, and the way his dark eyebrows were furrowed, causing his forehead to crease slightly.

Headmaster Friar walked in, a few papers in his hand. Even though Headmaster Friar was older, you could tell he had been good-looking back in the day- he had the same deep blue eyes and dusky blonde hair Sutton had.

His lips drew into a frown when he saw Ellis sitting there, and I saw him let out a subtle sigh. "Again, Mr. Hyland?"

Ellis shot him an ironic half-smile. "If other people didn't piss me off, we'd see each other a lot less. It's really that easy, sir."

Headmaster Friar shook his head, irritation laced in his features as he ignored Ellis's smooth response. "Ellis, I can't keep making excuses for you because you're friends with Sutton. You have to make reparations just like the other students here."

"What's the verdict then?" Ellis's deep voice was still casual, and I could see he didn't feel guilty for being in this situation at all. He pressed his hands behind his head, and I tried to look away so I could pretend like I didn't see his protruding muscles.

He was enjoying this, way more than anyone should. Maybe the other person deserved it- whatever or whoever was the source of his anger- but maybe they didn't. Maybe Ellis Hyland was just a jerk, one who could get away with things no matter how much they hurt other people.

Nothing could phase him, and Headmaster Friar looked like he was on the verge of frustration.

"After everything that happened, I would expect you to be grateful for being here," He said gruffly. For a second, the confident look on Ellis's face wavered, and I tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that Headmaster Friar knew something about Ellis that no one else did. I wanted him to keep going, but he didn't, because of a phone ringing. 

My stupid phone that I had forgotten to put on mute. 

Shit.

I fumbled to end the call before awkwardly moving forward. Ellis glanced up as I walked in. 

His eyes met mine for the briefest of seconds, but it was enough to make my stomach twist. This was the boy I was supposed to befriend- or rather, stalk. Just the sight of him made my knees feel like jelly, and it wasn't in a good way. He looked pissed to see me and I remembered that I basically had been eavesdropping. I instinctively tugged at the hem of my skirt in an attempt to make it longer, and he crooked an eyebrow up.

Realizing his gaze wasn't leaving mine any time soon, I tilted my chin up defiantly to protect my dignity and kept walking. My hand was at the door, ready to make my getaway, when Headmaster Friar stopped me.

"Dakota."

I turned back, refusing the urge to play with the loose strands from my braid. I could feel Ellis's eyes still on me.

"Yes, Headmaster Friar?" I said.

"I have to speak to you about something." He cleared his throat, his eyes not meeting mine.

For once, Headmaster Friar looked uncomfortable, and his eyes held the same anger that he had regarded Ellis with, even though I hadn't done anything. "About the journalism club."

"Is this about the funding? I know, people aren't really reading the paper. But in our defense, we talk about some really important stuff and if they just gave it a chance they'd see the journalism club isn't just a bunch of nerds who love Shakespeare-" I stopped talking when I saw Headmaster Friar's unamused expression. Ellis looked like he was about to smirk at my word vomit, and I felt my cheeks grow hot.

Headmaster Friar wordlessly pulled out the newsletter from his pile of papers and slid it over on the desk. I looked down confused, and immediately my eyes widened as I scanned it. 

Addilyn Fields- Suicide or Murder?

Calington High. A prestigious school where the students are the pride and joy. A school that promises the wellbeing of its students. 

Isn't that right, Headmaster Friar?

Someone had published the article.