The Psychopath Next Door

7: The Friendly Neighborhood...Psychopath?

Cory Michaels was insufferable.

"We should hang out sometime," he told Calla as she dug around in her locker, pretending to look for her notebook.

He pushed his head into her peripheral. "Do you like pizza?"

There's no escape. Calla plastered on a smile. He's relentless.

He and Cooper Daniels were a lot alike in that regard.

"Pizza?" she asked, delaying the inevitable. She would have to give him a straight answer eventually.

Cory and his damn pizza. Cooper and his damn cat.

"Pizza," he agreed, giving her a grin that had doubtless won over many girls before.

Calla withheld a grimace. "About that."

"Don't tell me you've got homework," he complained, leaning in close—close enough to smell the spearmint on his breath. "I am a great tutor, you know."

She paused, trying not to envision how his breath would smell if she cut his throat. "Rachel needs me, actually. We've got plans."

"So? Cancel."

"Can't," she said with a shrug, closing her locker with a little too much force. "Besides, there's a killer on the loose. It's not safe."

Cory gave her an odd smile. "It's not that serious. My dad's on the case, remember? He'd tell me if there was any real danger."

Calla screamed internally. How could she have forgotten such a crucial detail?

You idiot. His father's a detective. You should be using him to find out more information, not pushing him away.

She recovered quickly and gave him an apologetic smile. "I did forget, actually. He close to cracking this thing?"

"Well. Close is pretty subjective," he hedged. "But it's all he talks about. He's obsessed."

"I'd be worried if he wasn't," she joked. She leaned back against the lockers, which subsequently brought her closer to Cory. Her left arm brushed his chest. "So. You've got the inside scoop, huh?"

He seemed pleased by her response. He shrugged with a nonchalance so forced, she had to bite back a grin. "Obviously."

"C'mon. Tell me something. Anything," she demurred, lay on the charm.

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He gave her a questioning look. "I mean, Tracy was your friend, right? I don't wanna freak you out or anything."

"Freak me out? Please." She raised herself up on her tippy toes, bringing their faces barely an inch apart. "I can take it."

At that, Cory's face went hot with color. He laughed and looked away. "You'd have to keep it a secret. My old man would kill me if he knew I was talking about this."

"Pinky promise," she said. To emphasize her point, she grabbed his hand and looped her pinky around his.

He leaned forward conspiratorially, eliminating the space between them. "Alright. So get this." His lips brushed her ear. "The killer left a note."

"A note?" she asked, a little too quickly. She pulled back. "Creepy."

"Totally. Dad has no idea what it means."

Play to his ego, Calla.

She gave him an appreciative smile, their pinkies still wrapped together. "Dang. You really do have all the tea."