Jillian Cade Read Online Free Page A

do you get my questions?”
    â€œHow do they know about your PI work? Nobody knows about that.”
    â€œI hardly think that’s the weirdest thing on that paper.”
    Norbert glanced up at me. “Who is this sister Rose? Do I have another cousin?”
    â€œNo!” I said it a little too loudly. A passing senior in a football jersey turned to look, and I glared in his direction. He sped up. I lowered my voice. “No sisters, no brothers. You’re the closest thing I have to a sibling.”
    Norbert’s eyes went all dopey and grateful like an anime fairy’s. “You think of me as a brother?”
    â€œDon’t let it go to your head—and no hugging,” I added hastily as he took a step toward me. He must have gotten that instinct from his mother.
    â€œGoing from cousin to brother is a clear indication of leveling up,” he said.
    â€œYou’re still actually my cousin, and I’m actually going to punch you if you don’t focus. My potential demise is on the horizon.”
    Norbert returned his gaze to the scrap of newspaper. “Okay, so someone is trying to upset your equilibrium.”
    â€œIn other words, it’s a death threat. Don’t sugarcoat. Do you think I pissed off a former client or something?”
    â€œIf so, they’re giving you a big head start. Look.” He pointed at the date on the newspaper. “Six months until your potential demise.”
    He was right. March 11. At least I had a running start.
    â€œGo,” I told him. “You don’t want to be late to class.”
    â€œCopy that.” I felt a flash of guilt as he took off down the hallway. I probably should check on him, I thought. Given some of the dickheads prowling the halls, it would be shocking if he made it through the day without getting beaten up.
    As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about Norbert at all.
    The next time I saw him was at lunchtime in the cafeteria. He was sitting at a table with what I assumed were two other freshmen: a boy wearing a what the frak? shirt and a girl who was demonstrating what appeared to be some Hogwarts-style wand work.
    My relief over Norbert’s acceptance into a clique—however dorky—was tinged with just a touch of envy. His first day of high school and he’d already found his tribe. Me: I had always been slow to bond, slow to trust, and once things had started going downhill at home, it was all over. The few acquaintances I’d made in the first half of my freshman year disappeared along with my ability to invite people to my house.
    I waved to Norbert and headed back out, soda in hand—past the sundial and through the horde of front-lawn students who were tapping frantically away on their phones.
    Even though everyone did it, we weren’t technically supposed to text inside the school building. As a result, the lawn transcended cliques—tiny personal screens both include and exclude everyone—so I usually found a place to eat alone out there. But that day I’d made certain to be far from the mob. I threaded my way through it to a low-growing magnolia tree on the edge of campus. Beneath the tree was a bench, mostly hidden from view by a thick explosion of lilac shrubs. It was often empty, due to the abundance of birds pooping on it from the branches above.
    This was where I had told HelpMeDude to meet me.
    Unfortunately, as I saw when I arrived, it was also where senior Corabelle LaCaze had chosen to hang out.
    Crap. Apparently bird poop doesn’t affect hormones. But I should have figured. Everything that made the bench perfect for a covert fake detective meeting made it equally perfect for a covert make-out session. I didn’t know who Corabelle was currently dating, but her tongue hadn’t spent a lot of time in her own mouth last year. The girl was something of a rock star. If she’d had a way to bottle and sell her sex appeal and self-confidence, I