Page 78 of I Kissed Shara Wheeler
“You remember how Shara kissed me?”
It takes a moment for the outrage to dawn on Georgia’s face.
“Shara Wheeler?” Georgia says, eyes wide. “This is about Shara Wheeler?”
“Stay with me. Shara kissed me, and then she ran away, and then she left me that note. The one I got in the Taco Bell drive-thru.”
“Uh-huh.”
She unzips the bag and hands it to Georgia.
“She left notes for Rory and Smith too,” Chloe says as Georgia starts pulling out pink card after pink card. “With clues in them, all leading to another clue, and another, and another. And they’re in these ridiculous places. I’m telling you, Georgia, it’s been a full-time job finding them, that’s why I’ve been spending so much time with Smith and Rory. I had to go to that Dixon party because she hid one there, and then I had to break into the principal’s office to get one out of her dad’s filing cabinet—I mean, it’s like, unbelievable. And every clue has a note from her, and every single one proves that I was right about her. I mean, she’s evil—”
Georgia stops shuffling the cards.
“Hang on,” Georgia interrupts. “You said you broke into the office? How?”
“I had a key,” Chloe answers automatically.
“To the office?”
“Not exactly.”
Georgia’s eyes narrow. “When was this?”
“I don’t know, like two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks ago,” Georgia says slowly, “as in, when I let you borrow my library key?”
Uh-oh.
“I—I made sure I didn’t get caught,” she backpedals.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have gotten me in?” Georgia demands. Her face is going red in patches the way it does when she’s really heartbroken. “You lied to me! You could have gotten me suspended!”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen!”
Georgia throws the pouch back at her.
“Go home, Chloe.”
“No—”
“You don’t get to decide everything!” Georgia says. “I decided you’re leaving! So, leave!”
She kicks Chloe’s foot out of the way, curses under her breath when her socked toes connect with Chloe’s shoe, and slams the door.
“Geo!” Chloe yells at the wood.
“Bye!” Georgia’s voice shouts from the other side. “Go away!”
“Georgia!”
“Don’t text me either!”
She calls Georgia’s name one more time, but there’s no answer.
Chloe spends the rest of Dead Week alone, nose-down in study guides, both hands a highlighter bloodbath.
