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Authors: Lisa Roecker

BOOK: The Liar Society
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Chapter 7

Present Day

Miss Lowry, last time I checked, you were a second-year. Care to explain why you’re rifling through a third-year locker that doesn’t belong to you when you should be in your first-period class?”

Headmaster Sinclair was not a large man. In fact he couldn’t be much taller than five-foot-seven, considering I was able to look him square in the eye and I had measured five-foot-five and three-quarters at my last doctor’s appointment. He strutted around the halls like some kind of deranged peacock. Last year Grace and I had diagnosed him with an advanced case of little-man syndrome.

“Oh, hi, Headmaster. Cameron just asked me to grab his English Lit notebook. He went home sick, and he needs his notes to study for a big test tomorrow on…” I thought hard here. I remembered reading somewhere that when you lie, you should add a lot of detail—or wait, maybe you’re not supposed to include a lot of detail. Whatever. I guess the point was to stay cool. “
Beowulf
…at least I think that’s what he said.” My voice was calm and steady.

The headmaster looked unconvinced, but luckily Cameron wasn’t around to tell him the truth. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye as someone came out of the boys bathroom. Without thinking, I seized the opportunity and took a few steps away from Headmaster Sinclair.

“Whoa! Watch out.” I ran right into Liam Gilmour.

Liam was one of those kids who had ended up at PB after getting kicked out of public school. There were all kinds of rumors about how he’d managed to get in a couple of years earlier, but I wasn’t sure I believed any of them. I mean, if he really was a convicted felon who had somehow blackmailed Headmaster Sinclair to get into school here, wouldn’t he be in juvie or something?

“I hope you have a hall pass, Mr. Gilmour.”

“You know it.” Liam flashed the stuffed armadillo that one of the science teachers used as a bathroom pass.

“Well, hurry back to class. You can’t afford to be missing any additional lectures.”

“Yeah, it’s just that there’s something majorly wrong in the boys bathroom. That last toilet is overflowing again. Just thought you should know.”

Headmaster Sinclair muttered something that sounded distinctly like a curse and started walking toward the custodian’s office.

“I trust you’ll be forgetting that locker combination, Ms. Lowry,” he threw back at me. “Now, get back to class. Both of you.” Headmaster Sinclair gave us one last long look and disappeared around the corner of the hallway.

My hands shook as I bent down, grabbed the paper from beneath my shoe, and stuffed it in my pocket. When I straightened, I forced myself to look Liam in the eyes, not sure what to make of him.

“Overflowing toilet, huh?”

He laughed a little. “Well, technically it’s not a lie. It was overflowing last week. You just looked like you could use a break.”

“You have no idea. Well, thanks for the distraction. I really appreciate it.” I studied him carefully. Liam kept a low profile, and the only thing really noteworthy about him—aside from the fact that he had amazing hair—was the rumor that his dad was some kind of gangster. Most of the girls at school avoided him in spite of his dangerous good looks. I guess he scared them a little.

But for some reason he didn’t scare me. Maybe that was because I’d caught him sketching an incredibly detailed picture of Beefany—with horns and a moustache—in study hall. Even if the rumors were true and he was some kind of thug, anyone who could sketch Taylor’s bodyguard as a devil-dude was fine by me.

“Well, thanks again.” I suppressed the urge to stick out my hand. I had the worst handshake habit on the planet. My dad always forced me to practice firm handshakes, and while I was sure his training would serve me well later in life, it was the epitome of lame in high school.

“No problem.” He nodded toward Cameron’s closed locker. “Find what you were looking for?” His eyes were the kind of color that changed depending on the color of his shirt. Today they were a stormy blue, but tomorrow they could be green or gray. I’d always wished for that kind of eyes. Mine were just plain old brown.

“Maybe.” I tore my eyes from his. They were making me kind of light-headed.

“Well, see you around.” He squeezed my shoulder and walked away.

A quick glance at my phone confirmed that I was now way past tardy and into official class-cutting territory. I hoped Seth could work some magic for me in the office, like forging an official excused-absence note from the school nurse. Maybe he’d even “borrow” an entire booklet of absence slips. They’d come in pretty handy—for the sake of the investigation, of course.

Instead of turning toward my first period classroom, I slipped out a side door and into the courtyard to examine my findings. The air was already thick and muggy under the morning sun; summer wasn’t quite ready to let fall take the reins. Eager for the shade of the path, I picked up my pace, sending Grace’s pearls into an angry dance around my neck.

I had my sights set on Station 10, Farrow’s Arches, tucked into the gardens of Pemberly Brown. Legend had it that if you and your boyfriend kissed underneath one of the arches, you’d end up married.

Amor vincit omnia
. “Love conquers all.”

My mind wandered to Liam and those stormy blue eyes. I shook my head. I had to focus. I couldn’t make the same mistake twice.

The gardens were bursting the fiery oranges and reds of fall leaves and deep purple mums. I held my fingers out, letting the tips skim across the hedges that lined the path. Finally her bench came into view.

In Memory of Grace Elizabeth Lee.

After running my fingers over the grooves that spelled her name, I pulled the slip of paper from my pocket. A boy’s block handwriting had scrawled Grace’s name above a crest carefully sketched in black ink. At first, it looked similar to the Pemberly Brown crest, but closer examination showed it was different.

The
P
and the
B
were missing, and on the door beneath an ornate crown was the letter
S
. I had no idea what it meant, but I had no doubt that the difference was significant. Why else would Cameron have saved it?

“What happened to you, Grace?” I whispered to the garden. In spite of the unseasonably warm air, I was suddenly freezing. When I looked up to see if a cloud had moved in front of the sun, a flash of plaid darted behind a bush nearby, long black hair streaming behind her. Grace
.

I jumped up from the bench and craned my neck to see over the branches, but no one was there. The bush was completely still except for a couple of fat bumblebees buzzing and bouncing from flower to flower.

My pulse raced, the beat throbbing in my neck. Here I was trying to prove that I wasn’t crazy, and I was hallucinating. This couldn’t be good. As soon as I caught my breath, I headed back inside. The mind-numbing boredom of class sounded way better than waiting in the gardens for a ghost.

Chapter 8

Tennis practice after school was excruciating, particularly with the picture from Cameron’s locker burning a hole in my book bag. By the time the late bus dumped me at home, I didn’t even bother going inside. I plopped down on our porch swing and smoothed the wrinkled note out along my leg. The paper felt soft and worn, like it had been folded and refolded, read and reread. As I rocked back and forth, I was struck again by the similarities between Cameron’s sketch and Pemberly Brown’s crest.

They looked so much alike, but the Latin motto was different. Instead of the phrase
Veritas Vos Liberabit,
“The Truth Shall Make You Free,” which was Pemberly Brown’s promise, the words
Audi, Vide, Tace
appeared on the sketch. “Hear, See, Be Silent,” I translated, thankful (for the first time ever) that my fifth-grade teacher had thought I’d be a good candidate for Latin.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen the words somewhere before. I stared at the picture, desperately trying to jog my memory. The crest featured the same door that every PB student had been wearing over their heart since lower school. But this wasn’t quite the same.

I yanked my crumpled uniform blazer from the bottom of my book bag and compared it to Cameron’s sketch. A crown was placed over the door in the sketch instead of the key on my blazer. And instead of the
P
and
B
, there was that letter
S
. I wondered if Cameron had gotten it wrong.

Pemberly was an all-girls school founded by suffragettes in 1890. In the early ’50s, the school merged with the local boys school, Brown, to form one of the most elite private schools in the Midwest, hence the
P
and
B
coming together. The school’s history was so riddled with legends and odd traditions that I wouldn’t be surprised if this crest factored in somehow.

I had just typed the words “Pemberly Brown alternate crest” into the search engine on my phone when the loud thump of feet hitting ground interrupted me. I jumped up, startled.

When a mass of frizzy red hair came into view, I relaxed, releasing the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. Seth had dried leaves stuck in his hair, and I recognized his well-worn copy of
The Biggest Controversies, Conspiracies, Theories, and Cover-Ups of Our Time:
From the secret files of science, politics, occult, and religion
tucked under one skinny arm. He had a half-eaten candy bar clutched between his fingers
.
Paranoia must burn a lot of calories.

“Are you seriously reading that again?” I asked, shaking my head.

“I wanted to go back and reread the part about UFOs,” he said with a shrug. “I saw something with my telescope last night that I swear wasn’t a plane or satellite.”

“Yeah, like the last time you saw a UFO and found out it was just a new cell-phone tower?” I looked up at the tree house he and his dad had spent weeks building when we were in fourth grade. “And I thought you were over the whole tree-house thing.”

“For the record, I wasn’t in the actual tree house, just sitting in the tree. There’s a difference.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” I replied, unable to bite back a smile.

“So are you feeling better?”

I gave him a confused look and then remembered. Girl problems.

“Oh, yeah, much better. Thanks for your help.” And I meant it. Seth may be a huge nerd and he could definitely be annoying, but he was about the closest thing I had to a friend. “And I might need another favor.”

But before I could say anything else, Seth reached across and plucked Cameron’s sketch from between my fingers.

“Sure. What is it?” Seth asked, examining the drawing.

“No! Not with that!” I said, grabbing it back. “I was going to ask you for an office excuse. For first period. Geez.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry. I thought…I mean, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Red spread across his cheeks. He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking a few twigs out.

I reminded myself that he was just trying to help. He was
always
just trying to help, which I guess was part of the problem. I lowered the paper and held it out to him.

“It’s this crest I found. Have you ever seen it before?”

“Here. Hold this,” he demanded, handing me the candy bar. Taking the paper from between my fingers, he lifted it into the air as if that would help somehow. “Who gave it to you?”

“Nevermind.” I pulled the paper back and held out his candy bar. I couldn’t tell him that I’d stolen it.

“It’s just that it looks really familiar. Does it have something to do with the Skull and Bones?”

I couldn’t stop a snort of laughter. Leave it to Seth to find the least useful piece of information and regurgitate it back to me.

“Just forget it.” I shoved the paper back in my pocket.

The conversation ground to a halt, and I noticed Seth staring at me in a weird, lovesick kind of way. I hoped he wasn’t going to ask me out again. The last time had been awkward enough.

“Did you do something to your hair? It’s…like pinkier. Did you put more pink in? Or maybe it’s the necklace—I mean, Grace’s jewelry—or…you know what I mean…you just look…um, different.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, and at the end he sucked in a massive gulp of air.

“Don’t, Seth. Just don’t.”

He lowered his head and shook it back and forth. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said it. I couldn’t help it.” His voice shook, and I heard him mumble the word “stupid” under his breath.

“No, it’s fine.” I felt bad. I’m not always the easiest person to be around, and not that many people went out of their way to be nice to me. For some reason, a vision of Liam popped into my head.

“I guess what I mean is—thanks.”

Seth’s jaw practically hit the grass, and his entire face smiled. Eyes, mouth, forehead. Smile, smile, smile.

“So maybe we could, like, go to dinner sometime?”

“Has anyone ever told you to quit while you’re ahead?” I began walking back toward my house, but I couldn’t stifle a little giggle. The sound felt strange coming out of my mouth. It had been a while since I’d laughed. “See you on the bus tomorrow.”

The door slammed shut behind me. As usual, my parents were working late, so I was alone again. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Or maybe loneliness was one of those things you never really got used to. Somehow that thought made the house feel even emptier than it had just a moment before.

As I trudged up the winding staircase to my room, I felt the full weight of Grace’s death on my shoulders. I found myself wishing that I could tell someone, anyone, the whole truth. Keeping secrets for a ghost wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

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