The Good Girls

Chapter 19

THE REST OF THE SCHOOL day was a blur as Uma tried—and failed—to focus on classes and soccer practice. In chemistry, she kept watching the door, sure someone was going to burst in and announce that Crystal White was dead. At soccer, she kept her phone on her—much to Coach Leah's chagrin—waiting for a call that the police wanted to see her again. Or, even worse, a text that said that someone else on their list was dead. She kept one eye on Aria, too, wondering if Aria was behind all this. She was in their film studies class. Had she heard their conversation that day? Was that why Aria was snickering as she took a long pull from her Gatorade bottle? Were those scratches on Aria's arms from a struggle with Crystal White in her house?

But why?

Uma avoided her new friends, too, freaked out by the conversation with Aria and Jane that morning. Not that they wanted to talk to her anyway. When Audrey saw her at the end of the hall between fourth and fifth periods, she turned and walked in the opposite direction. When she and Jane were next to each other in the cafeteria line, Jane shifted to the salad line to avoid speaking with her. And on top of everything, Harry was also avoiding her. Although maybe she was avoiding him, too. They'd had a few stilted conversations after their botched date on Satuday, but Uma could tell he was still upset . . . and maybe she was still upset, too. She'd left him message after message the night of the concert, trying to apologize and reason with him. He was seeing this as so black and white.

On top of all that, her appointment with Dr. Smith was this afternoon. She walked into the police station so on edge that she felt like even her eyelids were trembling. She felt guilty—for everything. Which didn't even make sense. Just because she'd been part of a conversation where a bunch of girls named people they wouldn't mind seeing dead—and said enemies then died—didn't make her a murderer. It wasn't like her words were magic or they were God. But what was happening? Who was doing this?

Could it be one of them?

"Sit down, Uma," Dr. Smith said, gesturing to a chair across from her. Uma sat stiffly, her hands in her lap. The clock ticked noisily in the corner. Uma stared at the spines on the books in the corner. They were all technical psychological journals that would probably put her to sleep.

"So." Dr. Smith tapped her nails on her clipboard. "I heard a girl went missing at school today."

Uma's head whipped up. She hadn't expected Dr. Smith to talk about that. "Uh, yeah," she said as casually as she could. "Crystal White."

"Do you know her?"

Uma shook her head. "Not really. She was in a few of my classes, that's all."

"Film studies, right?"

A chill went up Uma's spine. What did Dr. Smith know? "Uh, yeah," she said vaguely.

"The man who taught that class recently died, didn't he?"

Her heard pounded fast. "Yeah."

Dr. Smith made a note. Uma was almost positive it had something to do with the Jay–breaking into his house–film studies–Crystal connection. God, this all looked so bad for her. "So did Crystal ever give you any trouble? I heard she was a bit of a bully."

Uma shook her head with an honest no. "I barely knew her."

"But she was giving someone trouble, wasn't she? Someone you know?"

Uma felt a pull in her chest. "Well, maybe," she said in a small voice.

"You can tell me who it is." Dr. Smith leaned forward. "Everything you tell me here is confidential."

It was weird: At school when they were talking, Uma had felt like she couldn't trust the other girls anymore, that it was every man for himself at this point. But now, faced with a cop—well, kind of a cop, anyway—she couldn't bring herself to tell on Evie. It felt like a huge betrayal. Evie was nice and sweet. She didn't deserve the way Crystal had treated her, and she couldn't be capable of murder.