Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [110]
All in all, the church service had been a lot more interesting than Shay had expected.
Now, in the dining hall, along with everyone else, Shay was picking at her lunch, which consisted of chili, corn bread, coleslaw, and, afterward, ice-cream sundaes. “Sundaes for Sundays,” Lynch had proclaimed, and some of the kids thought that was clever.
Jules was seated on the far side, three tables away from Shay. Since Jules was no longer the guest of honor, she’d lost her spot at the head table. Also, Jules didn’t have a pod to oversee, so she could choose her spot. She’d taken a chair with some of the staff. Brawny Nurse Ayres sat to her left. On the other side was Spurrier, the friggin’ Red Baron, who was elbow-to-elbow with Flannagan, the creepy horse guy who was the essence of military macho. Shaylee had put up with enough of that jerk yesterday.
The math teacher Mr. DeMarco was a little more interesting. He had some of the same qualities she fell for with Dawg, a dangerous edge. She frowned at the thought of Dawg. He was the first of her boyfriends who had really gotten to her, but she’d been cautious. Wouldn’t Edie be shocked to learn that Shay hadn’t slept with him, hadn’t taken that step.
Shay hadn’t heard a word from him since she’d landed here, and though she told herself that was all part of the process, that he wasn’t allowed to call her from jail, she’d still been hurt.
What do you expect? That he would be different from every other man in your life?
“Yeah,” she whispered, dipping her straw in and out of her iced tea. Raw blisters lined her palms from hours spent shoveling manure and snow. Glancing up from her hands, she caught a glimpse of DeMarco’s smile, that sexy, faintly dangerous quality. She lifted the straw to her lips, sucked out a bit of tea, and chewed the end. Not that she would ever go for a math teacher like DeMarco. How stupid would that be? And how against the rules. If she was caught with him, maybe she’d be expelled.
Was it worth it?
Would juvie or another school be any better?
As Jules pushed her chair back, Shay let her gaze drift to the other woman at Jules’s table, that bossy secretary who couldn’t keep her eyes off Reverend Lynch. At least in the time when she wasn’t shooting daggers with her eyes at Lynch’s fussy little wife.
The good news? Shay knew her way around Ms. Charla King’s domain, including access to computers and files and records of the school. It was amazing what could be bought in the Blue Rock black market.
She saw Jules reach the hallway.
The second her sister rounded the corner, Shay dropped her straw into her glass, then knocked over the remains of her chili into her lap. She let out a little screech as she turned to Cooper Trent, who sat at the head of the table. “Sorry.” Man, she hoped he bought her act of being a klutz. Quickly dabbing at her lap with a paper napkin, she pushed her chair back and hurried off to the ladies’ room. The fake accident might be overkill, since no one really cared if a person used the facilities, but the mess on her clothes would gain her time in the bathroom, time she could use to talk to Jules.
Besides, even though she didn’t think there were cameras in the private dorm rooms, she wasn’t certain about common areas. Surely they had some security cameras on campus. Maybe mics, too. For all she knew, there could be microphones in the bathrooms.
The short hallway was empty as she slipped into the restroom. Still rubbing her shirt, she turned on the tap, soaked a paper towel, and scrubbed at the stains. A toilet flushed. Within seconds, the door to a stall opened and Jules stepped into the washroom.
Their gazes met in the mirror.
Jules started to say something, thought better of it, and taking a cue from Shaylee, turned on the tap.
“I saw you come in here,” Shaylee said in a low voice, her lips barely moving as she worked on her shirt. “Have you talked to Edie again?”
“No.”
“Damn it, Jules.” Shaylee kept rubbing the stain with the towel, which was starting to shred.
“Take it easy.” Thankfully Jules was playing along, pumping the