PRETTY DEAD GIRLS

Chapter Four

The call comes during sixth period when I'm in American Government. We're all quietly reading a chapter while our teacher tries to take a nap, which is typical. Mr. Gonzales answers the phone sitting on his desk, listens for a moment, and then slams the receiver down, glaring at all of us like we interrupted his siesta.

"Penelope Malone," he barks. "Go to the main office."

I frown. "Why?"

"I don't know," he snaps. "Just go. They're waiting for you."

Shoving my stuff into my backpack, I stand and glare at Mr. Gonzales as I exit the classroom to catcalls and those low ooohs boys like to make when they think someone's in trouble.

There's no way I'm in trouble. And who could be waiting for me? It's such a strange thing for Mr. Gonzales to say. When I enter the main office a few minutes later, the secretary Mrs. Boyer takes one look at me from behind her desk and says, "Hi Penelope. You're wanted in Mrs. Adney's office."

Dread fills me. I've never been called to the vice principal's office before. Ever. Not in all my eleven years of attending school. What could this be about? What did I do? More like, what is someone saying I did?

I may never get in trouble, but I definitely have enemies. We all do.

The office door is partially open, and when I peek in, the dread leaves me. It's not anything I've done. It's all about Gretchen.

Those cops I saw in the gym earlier are standing in Mrs. Adney's cramped office, and she's sitting behind her desk, chatting with them in low murmurs. I'm guessing they want to talk to me. One is staring at his phone-the younger one- and the older one has a small notepad, his pen scratching across the paper so hard I can actually hear it from where I'm standing.

I clear my throat to warn of my existence and then knock on the door, flashing Mrs. Adney a bright smile when her gaze meets mine. "You wanted to see me?" My tone is pleasant. Like it's any other day.

Mrs. Adney scowls because it is most certainly not like any other day. "Detectives Spalding and Hughes would like to speak with you, Penelope-" she starts to say, but the older detective interrupts her, which makes her scowl deepen.

"We won't take up too much of your time." His voice is gentle and he steps forward, indicating the empty chair in front of me with a casual wave of his hand. "If you don't mind having a seat, Miss Malone?"

I sit, smoothing my blue-and-white plaid skirt down around my thighs, making sure I'm covered. My hands are shaky and I hope they don't notice. "I'm not sure if I can help," I say with a small smile.

The older detective sits next to me, but the younger one remains standing. "I'm Detective Spalding," the older one offers. "And that's Detective Hughes. We're here to ask you a few questions about your friend Gretchen Nelson."

"Okay," I say slowly, resting my hands in my lap.

"When was the last time you saw Miss Nelson?"

"Um, yesterday afternoon while I was at cheer practice."

Hughes frowns. "She's not a cheerleader any longer. Why was she at cheer practice?"

"She wasn't. But I saw her here on campus when I was at cheer. Gretchen plays volleyball and they practice in the gym," I explain. Then correct myself. I blink hard at the sudden wave of emotion that washes out of me and I choke out, "Played, I suppose I should say."

The room is silent for too long and I drop my head, staring at my clutched hands. I still can't believe she's gone. That Gretchen is...dead. It doesn't feel real, like this is some sort of awful nightmare I'm going to wake up from at any moment.