Lying Liars From Leland High

In the morning, Crystal gives you an affectionate hug before you slip back through the narrow strip of trees and parking lot to your apartment. Thankfully the spare key is under the mat and you are able to get in, get dressed and get ready for school.

Jules is waiting for you at the street as usual.

"Hey, Crystal already headed off, she's got a zero hour thing this morning," he says.

"So, did you hear that wild Coyote last night? Something was howling like crazy."

You blush, "I missed it sorry. Hey, let's talk." You offer your arm. He eagerly takes it and the two of you stroll down the sidewalk.

"Thank you for the suspect board you made, Crystal showed it to me last night. It really helped."

He beams at the compliment.

"Thank you! Have you figured out who did it yet?" He asks.

"Who killed Tom or who killed Matt? We've got two murders now to investigate."

"Don't forget the murder attempt on you with the truck," Jules says.

"You are right!" The two of you walk a few paces lost in thought.

"So you had a question for me?" you ask.

"I do." He takes a deep breath. "Have you gotten your Sadie Hawkins tickets yet?" he asks.

"Is that your question?" you ask with a playful smile. He blushes.

"Not really," he says.

"No, I haven't gotten my tickets." You say.

"Don't forget, you have to pick them up at the student office before Friday, if you want to go to the dance next week," he says. The two of you walk for a moment, before he sucks up the courage.

"Okay, my question is this - am I just permanently stuck as a sidekick? We've known each other forever, and I'm always there for you. Does that count for something? You know I like you, why can't we date? I know you've done stuff with other people. What about me?"

You sigh and give him a little squeeze.

"Lots of stuff to unpack there. First, women are not a magical sex vending machine where you put in kindness coins until sex pops out."

He splutters objections but you press on.

"Second, you are not my sidekick, you are my friend. Someone I care about and trust. That's more valuable to me than getting hot and sweating for a few minutes. It can be a deeper connection, so yes, it counts for quite alot."

He holds up his finger.

"Objection, you have actual superpowers, I think that makes me the sidekick by default."

"Objection overruled, I have traumatic brain visions that leave me weeping in my bed or writhing in the street. That's not a superpower, that's a curse with perks."

"Like Rogue from the X-Men?" He offers.

"Fine. Yes. Like Rogue from the X-Men." You roll your eyes.

"But my last point, Jules, is this." You stop and face him towards you. "Romantic connection is complicated. Even when two people like each other, it often doesn't work out. People have different needs, different speeds, different directions and not everything lines up. I know right now dating and having sex feels really important but once you've cleared that hurdle, there's a wide world of companionship out there and you'll need to navigate it."

He nods, a little glum but understanding.

"I'm not saying we can't date, we still might. But if you only see me as a girl who has 'done some stuff' with other people and not you, then that's a terrible place to start a relationship. It begins with a grievance, on what you are owed, rather than two people connecting with each other because they enjoy each other's company."

You fold him into a deep hug. "And Jules, I enjoy your company."

He rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.

"When did you get so smart all of a sudden?" He murmurs.

"Because some of us don't use Wisdom as a dump stat," you whisper back. He laughs and gives you a squeeze.

"I'll do some thinking about what you said," he said.

"Good, thank you for listening," you say, squeezing his hand and the two of you walk down to the high school, arm in arm.

###

Your first stop is the administrative office in hopes of seeing Detective Morris. When you arrive, Patricia is in the middle of a very animated conversation with a parent, so you duck down low and slip right past the reception towards the back offices. As you creep down the hallway, you hear Simon Pendegrast's soothing voice in Principal Sheffield's office.

"... and the readings were off the chart! I don't think she even knows the full extent of what she can do."

"Good. Very good. I had hoped that this... unfortunate situation could be turned into an opportunity," Sheffield responds. "See if you can get her in the device again, we cannot let someone of that capacity simply pass through our fingers, without the proper guidance."

"Don't worry, I'm keeping her close. Very close." Simon says.

The door to the office begins to move and you scamper backwards, as quickly as you can towards the back closet where Morris' office is. You catch the briefest glimpse of Simon as you slide into Morris' office, safely out of sight.

"Got some overdue library books, love?" Morris quips.

"What?" You say, startled, firmly closing the door behind you.

"Thought I heard that ponce of a librarian out there. Figured that's why you are in here all in a huff," he gives you a sly smile. "Or were you just desperate to see me?"

You give him a saucy grin. "So what if I am desperate to see you, what then?"

He clicks his tongue. "Careful love, wouldn't want to set chins wagging, would we?"

He closes the folder he had open on his desk.

"So, you want to tell me how you knew that there was a dead student with his arm ripped off at the quarry? The coroner tells me that they were killed in the middle of the night, and that someone with your shoe size walked all over that space between then and when we secured the crime scene."

"You don't honestly believe it was me?" You say, incredulous. Morris leans forward and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, glances up at the smoke detector above the door, sighs and puts them away.

"Do I think you ripped off the kid's arm and slashed his throat? No. Of course not. But I think you know who did, and I'm not going to like the answer."

"It was a slavic forest spirit, probably being controlled by either Mr. Jovanovic or Maribeth Jovanovic."

He stares at you blankly.

"I was right. I don't like the answer." He runs his hands through his hair. "A tree spirit? Bloody hell."

"Here, let me bring you up to speed..."

###

It's disorienting going through classes where everyone turns in homework except for you, but the teachers never seem to notice. You literally bombed an Algebra 2 test by putting "zero" as the answer for every problem but got it back today with *84/100" marked at the top.

With the fear of actually doing the work gone, the classes become a rather dull exercise where you are stuck in a chair surrounded by students an hour at a time although you did revive your love of doodling, long-lost since being a best-selling author and mother left you little time downtime. In some ways, the enforced slower pace is relaxing but then a teacher calls on you and asks about the Townshend Act and you have to take a wild guess and miss.

Finally, you have a free period and are able to track down Clarissa. She's in the middle of pottery class, held in a little art space tucked behind the main school building. The students are each assembled around spinning wheels and after informing the teacher, a big haired, horn rimmed glasses woman with chunky jewelry, she graciously lets you sit down next to Clarissa and ask your questions.

"Um hi?" Clarissa says, nervously. Her voice sounds like a rusty harmonica but her eyes are kind and friendly. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, my name's Brenna, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

She looks around nervously. "Is this... is this about the weed? Because I just found that joint on the floor of the locker room, I didn't spark up."

"No, god no. This is for the student paper." you reply.

"Oh phew, you didn't look like a narc." She giggles and then glances at the teacher who has her hands full trying to help another student recenter her pot.

"So, what's this about, Brynnnnnaaaaa?" she says, letting your name roll off her tongue.

"It's about Tom, I need to ask you a few questions about Tom Jovanovic." Her smile fades.

"Yeah, that was...real sad. Sorry to hear about him." She picks at her tools, turning away from you for a moment.

"Clarissa, I know you and him were close." She shrugs, starting to spin the pottery wheel again.

"Yeah, he knew plenty of folks, so what?" She says.

You give her a skeptical look.

"Clarissa..." you begin but she throws up her hands.

"Alright, alright. Ease up there with the harsh interrogation.," she grumbles. "Yeah, me and Tom were an item. We held hands, we saw some movies, I blew him in the back of his Toyota Corolla every once and a while, and that's no easy task. He had a schlong like a horse."

You give a snort of laughter drawing the art teacher's eyes but you quickly pretend to jot down a few notes and she goes back to what she was doing.

"He was a good guy." Clarissa says. "Most days. Some days, I felt like he wanted nothing to do with me but whatever, some days, I wanted nothing to do with him so fuck him."

"Were you at the party where he... died?" You whisper the last part but she gives you a conspiratorial look.

"Yeah, I was there, but that's the thing. I'm not sure he did."

"Did what?" you ask.

"Die." She leans in and begins a whispered recounting of her night.

"Look, I was there, drinking and, you know, riding high. I'd holed up in the library, or at least that's where Tom's friend Dylan had put me before Lizzy got ahold of him. Tom popped in a few times but he was being a jackass to me, shouting about Matt stabbing him in the back and then something about Billy. You know Billy, right? I'd bought some angel dust from him earlier and thought, fuck it, why not? No time like the present. So I smoked that shit right away."

"So there I was in that grand library of theirs, looking over all the books, absolutely high as a kite. It was great. I must have dozed off in their fancy chair for a bit because when I came to, everyone was gone. It was still tripping balls but I thought I heard Maribeth and Tom arguing in the hallway."

"What were they saying?" You ask.

"Maribeth was chewing him out about some sort of mess that she needed to clean up. I assumed it was because his friends had trashed the house but she didn't sound angry, she sounded scared, you know? And Tom just kept saying that he was free, he was finally free."

"So I get up, still seeing plenty of crazy shit because, again, high as balls, and I call out to Tom. Maribeth comes running in, all freaked out. I don't think she knew I was there. She grabs me and starts rushing me out the door. As I was grabbing my coat, I looked back and there was Tom at the top of the stairs. Or at least, I thought."

She shrugs. "Who knows, it could have been Maribeth's big goon of a boyfriend, what's his name, Charlie? Maybe he grabbed Tom's coat or something. It's not like anything else I saw that night makes sense."

"What else did you see?" you ask. She looks at you, as if just putting the pieces together in her head.

"You. I think I saw you." She says, her voice barely a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"When Maribeth was rushing me out the door, I saw you standing out on the lawn. You looked like a ghost, all translucent and shit. As I walked by, you said something to me but I couldn't make out what it was, and then you ran past me to get into the house."

She gives a little chuckle. "Huh, pretty weird huh? I'd never really talk to you before today but now that I think about it, it was you. At the time I was just like, who's this hot chick with great tits floating out in the yard? Must be another one of my lesbian fantasies come to life!"

"Oh!" you say, blushing. "Was I naked?" She shakes her head.

"Naw, but you looked good. You had one of those low cut halter top things on, it was flattering, that's what I'm saying, very flattering." She gives you a warm smile. "You know, for a hallucination."

"Alright everyone, finish up where you are at, it's time to get cleaned up," the teacher announced. Clarissa scraps the half made pot she was puttering with and begins gathering her tools in a tin can to get cleaned up.

"Hey, thanks for sharing Clarissa, this helped," you say.

"I hope so." she says, sadly. "I miss the big guy."

You lean in and give her a hug. She squeezes into you, filling your face with her voluminous curls.

"It was good to talk about it," she says. "Thank you."

And with the chiming of the bell, it was time for you to hustle on to Chemistry.

Dylan - you know that he holds some of the missing pieces to what happened that night at the party but getting him alone, that's a challenge. Thankfully, you know when swim practice gets out.

Briefly, you consider waiting for him outside the locker room but Cody and his other friends like to hang out and wait for everyone to get to get out and you aren't quite ready to see Cody yet. Especially if you want to get an honest answer out of Dylan.

No, the best option is just to sneak into the boys locker room.

Getting in was surprisingly easy - just walking swiftly when no one was paying attention. Once inside, you keep your head down, easily ducking between the rows of lockers and staying out of sight of the inset office. But you quickly realize that the space is mostly empty. The swim team hasn't arrived yet.

You need to ensure that he stays long enough to squeeze him for information, and you are going to need to act fast.

Ducking into the office, you riffle through the papers till you find "locker assignments". Thankfully, there is only one Dylan listed under "athletic lockers" so you grab a few paperclips from the desk and head to locker number 154.

Once at Dylan's desk, you go to work, interlacing the flattened metal with the lock, in the locking mechanism and through the loops of the locker. Not enough to completely jam up the mechanism but certainly enough to slow him down.

Just as you are finishing your sabotage, you hear the swim team coming, raucous and loud, stampeding into the locker room. As quickly as able, you slip into the bathroom side of the locker room, barricading yourself inside one of the toilet stalls and pulling up your feet. As quietly as possible, you shed your shoes and socks and hang them up on the coat hook inside the stall. Barefoot is quieter.

You needn't have bothered. The cacophony is immense, the running water, the shouting and hollering. Over the din, you hear a few snippets that raise your hopes.

"Dude, who fucked up your locker?" and then, "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up." and then just the shower going and relative silence.

Carefully, you poke your head out of the bathroom stall, peering over toward the showers.

Success! Your plan worked! From your vantage point, you could see Dylan's lanky form in the communal shower. He was faced away from you, towards the spigot, providing an excellent view of his muscular backside.

"Hey there Dylan," you say, casually strolling into the shower.

"Jesus!" Dylan whirls around, quickly covering his genitals with both hands. "What the fuck are you doing here, Brenna?"

You give him a coy smile.

"Enjoying the view, obviously." You say. "You are a hard man to get a hold of."

Dylan gives you an appraising look, lingering on your chest. "You trying to get a hold of me, are you?"

"I am. I've got some questions for you about what went down at Tom's party that night."

"And ambushing me in the shower was your plan? You take this whole teen detective business seriously, don't you?" He gives you a cocky grin. "Hmm..." he scratches his chin, revealing his already growing erection.

"How about this? For every question you want answered, you have to take off a piece of clothing. It's only fair, I'm already naked."

You drink him the view, he is hot. Why not?

"Alright - what happened the night Matt died after you and Matt left the... uh... 'Mat?"

He blanches. "I thought this was about Tom," he says, but you are already pulling your shirt over your head, revealing your black bra.

"Answer the question, Dylan." You say, tossing your long hair over your shoulders and arching your back, showing off the goods.

Dylan's face is stuck in a goofy grin, his erection lengthening before your eyes, hard and thick.

"Uh, Matt and I headed out at around eleven. We were just going to drive out to the quarry and knock back a six pack of tall boys but Billy was waiting for us in the parking lot. He's pissed because..."

"You owe him money for the firespores." You say.

"Yeah. He was tweaking, all over the place. We tried to get him to calm down but he kept saying he was running out of time and needed that money. We gave him all the cash we had on us and invited him to join us at the quarry. But he peaced out." As he is talking, he's slowly stroking himself, his eyes fixed on your chest.

"Then what happened at the quarry?"

"Hmmm, that sounds to me like another question," he says, grinning.

"Ha! Sure." Reaching back, you unclasp your bra, carefully hanging it up on a dry spigot nearby. Dylan's eyes cling to your body, making your heart beat faster with excitement.

"So we're out there, have a good time and I start hearing something thrashing around in the bushes. Matt thinks it's Billy so he tells me to go grab my dad's gun from the truck. But as I run to the truck, I hear Matt screaming and some sort of hissing noise. Like some sort of demented steam engine. By the time I got back, there was blood everywhere. I took one look at that and ran."

His cock is full, filling his hand and you see his body flexing, and there's a hunger in his eyes.

"Ask me another question." he commands. You blush at the boldness.

"The night of the New Years Eve party, did you see or hear anything while you were in the boathouse?"

He cocks his eyebrows. You roll your eyes, secretly thriving on his open desire. You slide your skirt off, careful to keep it from getting wet on the tile.

He circles his fingers and you do a little twirl. He moves closer, looming over you.

"That night I heard plenty, from Busy Lizzy. She's noisy when she's treated right, if you know what I mean."

You bite your lip.

"You treated her right?" You ask.

"Hmmm, that sounds like another question." He says.

"Fuck." you mutter, peeling off your panties, leaving yourself as naked as he is.

"She came twice that night, one on my tongue and once on my dick, but I was on firespores, so I kept going and going." He reaches out and slowly traces his fingers along the side of your hips.

"Mmmmm," you moan. "But did you see anything?"

"Another question, and look at you, all out of clothes." He muses.

"I think that's just restating the question from earlier." you disagree, but he grabs your hand and puts it on his cock. Slowly you jack him, slowly sliding his foreskin back and forth over his giant bulbous cockhead. He groans appreciatively.

"Yeah, I saw something. I was pretty out of it but Lizzy was smoking a jay at the window and when I came to see how she was doing and saw two guys yelling on the beach. They were too far away to hear what they were saying, but they looked pissed."

"Was one of them Tom?"

"Ah ah. That's another question." He tsks. "Turn around."

"I don't know if I'm going to do that," you say, somewhat nervous about how this is going.

"I wasn't asking." He snarls, grabbing your shoulders and twisting you around roughly. You grab ahold of the shower fixtures to steady yourself. He's already moving on, squeezing your breast roughly and twisting the nipple till it stands tall.

"Fuck!" You shout, echoing on the tiles.