The Lies That Bind

21: DTR

"I can't believe we went to a party and nothing even remotely exciting happened."

Cooper looked up from his slice of breakfast pizza to find Vincent and Calla both glaring at him. "Dude," Vincent complained. "Don't jinx it."

"I'm just saying." Cooper went in for another bite. "It was pretty tame, by our standards."

Calla's glare shifted to her pizza, as if the crust had somehow personally offended her. Knowing her, she likely had only one thing on her mind. And that thing just so happened to be a very mouthy class president.

Or...ex-class president? Cooper wondered with a frown. They never did clarify that. I'd guess criminal charges exempt you from planning the next class reunion...

"So," Natalie said slowly, nibbling on the edge of Vincent's leftover crust. "When Vincent went out for beer...that's why you two were so freaked. Because of..." She waved her hand in a vague gesture. "Everything else that happened, before."

Vincent had already done a pretty bang-up job of summarizing their less-than-stellar highschool experience: dead classmates, kidnappings galore, and the like. She'd accepted it as she'd accepted everything else—with a sympathetic smile.

"Yep." Cooper made a face. "Tripping over your classmate's dead body will do that to you. And then watching other peeps you've known your whole life get killed off one by one, knowing you're next—"

"Dude," Vincent said. "Dark."

"But getting dragged to the station because everyone thought I killed my ex-girlfriend had to be the cherry on top," Cooper continued cheerfully.

"He didn't, of course," Calla clarified at Nat's evident alarm. "It was our class president." She shot him a sly look. "Who Cooper made out with, if I recall correctly—"

"Calla!" he gasped, indignant.

"Yeah," Vincent mused, grinning up at him from his spot on the floor. "Wasn't that at the same party she tried to kill Tom?"

"Wow." Cooper tossed aside his slice of pizza. "There goes my appetite. Thanks."

"Alright. Enough of the dark and dreary." Natalie stood, tossing what was left of her crust on a spare paper plate. "Cold pizza's not cutting it this morning. Who wants bagels and coffee?"

Calla's hand shot into the air. "Immediately yes."

Vincent started to clear his plate. "I'll come."

"No, no." She brushed a kiss over the top of his head. "Stay. Catch up for a bit." She glanced at each of their faces. "Text me what you want. I'll be right back."

"Love you!" Vincent called. Nat blew a kiss in reply on the way to the door.

No one said a word after she left. Paranoid, perhaps, that she would come back any minute and find them planning a fun detour to visit their old, currently institutionalized class president. Cooper didn't envy Vincent that conversation.

"Well, since we're all thinking it..." Calla set aside her pizza and folded her arms. "What the hell does Steph want with Cooper?"

"Great question." Cooper smiled over at her. "Maybe she remembers what a good kisser I am—"

Calla groaned. "Oh, spare me."

"Spare me," Vincent mumbled around a mouthful of pepperoni.

"Close that gaping pie hole before I throw up all over my nice new carpet," Calla said, lip curled.

Cooper waved them down before they could tear into each other. "As Calla is always saying, can we focus, please?"

Vincent leaned forward. "Oh, I'm focused." He eyed Calla—not with any sort of malice, Cooper thought, but with something closer to clinical curiosity. "Why are you asking us what Steph wants? Out of the three of us, aren't you the most qualified to, like...speak sociopath?" At Cooper's pointed glare, he raised his hands. "I'm not saying that to be a dick. I genuinely don't understand how Stephanie's mind works. Like, why'd she bother helping Cory with the fairytale book shit? Why the hell didn't she turn Calla's ass over to the police the second she saw what happened to Tracy?"