Page 98 of I Kissed Shara Wheeler
“Where’s Georgia now?”
“The office,” Shara says. “My dad’s gonna call her parents.”
Shara steps back, holding the door open. Her eyes are wide, eyebrows set in a dire arch. She’s still catching her breath—she must have sprinted all the way across campus.
“There’s time if you run,” she says.
Chloe runs.
FROM THE BURN PILE
Passed notes between Georgia and Summer Found on the back of the instructions for their geometry project, for which they received a 95/100
Where do you want to meet after school to work on the project? I think Ms. Johnson’s room should be open and she’s chill
I’m supposed to go to work right after school, tomorrow?
Softball practice:(I could come to your job maybe? Where do you work?
Yeah that’s fine! I work at Belltower Books
YOU WORK THERE??? that’s so cool
it’s no big deal haha, my parents own it!
You do see how that’s cooler, right? OK, I’ll meet you there.
20
DAYS UNTIL GRADUATION: 8
Chloe crashes into the admin office’s glass door like a dive-bombing pigeon.
When she throws it open, she doesn’t hear it smash into the opposite wall or the alarmed squawk of the receptionist. She doesn’t see anything but Georgia, sitting on one of the hideous carpeted chairs, waiting to be called back.
Their eyes lock, and Georgia’s expression cycles from shock to confusion to anger and back in less than a second, before best friend mind-meld kicks in, and she mouths, “Isengard.”
It’s not too late, then.
Chloe keeps running straight to the principal’s office, where Wheeler stops with his hand over the number pad of his desk phone, the receiver still pinned between his ear and shoulder.
“Ms. Green,” he says, “if you want to meet with me, you can talk to Mrs.—”
“Georgia wasn’t the one kissing a girl in the B Building bathroom,” Chloe says, “it was me.”
Wheeler stares at her for a long second. He puts the receiver down.
“Is that right?” Wheeler asks.
“Yes,” she says, and for good measure adds, “sir.” Ew. Hated that.
Wheeler studies her face, which she schools into something she hopes is contrite.
“Do you want to explain why a student reported Georgia Neale to me?”
“It happens all the time,” Chloe says quickly. “We look alike, and we’re always with the same people and doing the same things, and since last fall we even have almost the same haircut, and lowerclassmen are idiots, but—but I swear, it was me. I mean, Georgia’s never broken a rule in her life, I’m the one who does that, so you can call my m—my parents instead and tell them what happened. But don’t punish Georgia for what I did.”
Wheeler contemplates this, leaning back in his tall leather chair with a creak.
