Chapter 73: Sadie: Quick Recovery

SADIE

"Are you sure this will work?" Lola pushes a blade of grass away from her cheek, only for it to spring back the moment she lets go. "What if she doesn’t take the bait?"

"She will." I duck my head a little lower without taking my eyes off the entrance.

For the sake of the two of us lying in the grass outside Walsh Hall, she’d better. My commitment to Quiz Bowl has never been in question, but I didn’t know it would eventually require hiding in the landscaping because Sophie couldn’t be trusted with a bag of shirts.

We started looking into her over breakfast. A little stalking seemed reasonable while we were eating pancakes and scrolling through her account. It seemed less reasonable once it brought us here, flat on our stomachs, but we’ve already found enough to suspect she lied. Now we need to confirm it without giving her time to get her story straight.

Which means staying down here, even if Lola keeps looking at me like I planted every blade of grass touching her face.

If we hadn’t found anything suspicious, I’d be happy to leave. But Paige and Dixie both followed Sophie on the same day we made plans to collaborate with the hockey team.

Could that be a coincidence? Sure. I’d have an easier time believing it if Paige hadn’t posted about our delayed shirts before she was supposed to know anything about them.

Maybe those follows were Sophie’s reward for passing along our plans. Maybe getting noticed by those two mattered more to her than helping the club she’d joined. I don’t know yet, but the timing makes her accident story harder to believe.

I’ve been going over it since breakfast, trying to find a part that still makes sense, and I keep coming back to the same thought: there was no accident. Sophie never intended to get those shirts to me.

"Has she responded?" I whisper.

"No."

Before I can suggest another text, voices drift toward us from the entrance. We duck our heads and wait for whoever’s coming to walk past.

"Should we text her again? It’s been more than five minutes."

"I told you she wasn’t taking the bait." Lola keeps her voice low, but her frustration comes through just fine. "Why would she believe someone has a random delivery for her?"

"Curiosity. What if she wants to check whether it’s true?"

"Well, she’s not checking." She glances at her phone again. "I think you should just confront her."

I let out a breath. Confronting Sophie isn’t what worries me — I could do that right now, grass stains and all. What worries me is doing it without enough evidence that she can’t explain it away and make me look like I accused her because I was upset.

If she stays in Quiz Bowl afterward, what am I supposed to do? Work beside her while we both pretend I don’t think she sold us out?

I want to know how she intends to get through this and keep her place on the team. Texting her from Lola’s phone about a delivery was supposed to get her outside long enough for me to see her. She told Michael she broke her arm, but she won’t let anyone from Quiz Bowl visit. We’re supposed to wait until she feels better and is ready to see us, and then she’ll explain.

Or until she’s had enough time to come up with an explanation we might actually believe.

The longer I lie here, the more I wonder how Sophie thought she’d get away with it. Did she assume I wouldn’t see Paige’s post? Even if she’d managed to ruin the whole night, Paige still would’ve posted about the shirts, and I still would’ve known she had information that hadn’t left the team.

Then what? Was I supposed to read it and never wonder who told her? Or was Sophie counting on me being too upset about everything else to notice what Paige had given away?

Maybe the accident was supposed to make me feel too sorry for her to ask, because questioning someone with a broken arm would somehow make me the bad person.

But pity can only buy her so much time. She still has to come back to the club, and I still have questions. So what exactly is she planning to tell us when she does?

"Oh my gosh, she just replied." Lola’s whisper pulls me out of my thoughts. She turns her phone toward me, and I lift my head enough to read it.

Sophie: Not expecting any packages.

Lola types back while I watch.

Lola: Still got your name and address. Sure it’s not yours?

This time, Sophie barely keeps us waiting.

Sophie: Where are you?

Lola: Waiting in front of your dorm.

Sophie: Coming out.

Lola looks at me, and we both start giggling, reaching for each other’s hands before remembering we’re supposed to be hiding. Our palms meet in a clumsy little clap, then we duck our heads again, trying to stop laughing before Sophie comes outside.

Another minute passes before Sophie comes through the dorm entrance. I check her arms immediately, but there’s no cast, no sling, not even a bandage. After refusing to let anyone from Quiz Bowl visit, she’s come outside without making the slightest effort to look injured.

"She’s faking it," Lola whispers.

I press a finger to my lips. "Shh."

Sophie looks around, then takes out her phone. A second later, Lola’s screen lights up with her call. Thankfully, it’s on silent. We stay down and watch her wait, her confusion turning into irritation as nobody answers. After one last look around, she stomps back inside.

Once Sophie disappears, I let out a breath and sit up. Lola follows, brushing grass off herself.

"So she’s lying." She looks toward the entrance. "She couldn’t have healed a broken arm in one day, could she?"

"She’s neither an alpha nor a beta. I doubt it."

"Then let’s go confront her."

She starts to rise, but I catch her arm.

"What are you doing?" She looks down at my hand.

"Confront her now and say what? That we saw her without a cast? What if she tells us she’s healed?"

"You just said that’s unlikely."

"Unlikely doesn’t mean she won’t say it." I keep hold of her arm. "I want to hear what she tells the club. Let her give everyone her version before she knows we’ve seen her."

Lola huffs and settles beside me again. "You’re too patient. I’d be at her door already."

It isn’t just patience. I’m angry enough that my fingers tighten around her arm, and I have to remind myself whose arm I’m holding before loosening them.

"I want everyone there when I expose her. They tried to embarrass me in front of an entire arena. I can wait long enough to return the favor."

Lola looks at me for a moment. I release her arm and brush the grass from my palms. "Let’s go back, Lola."