A Good Killing Read Online Free PDF Page B

change that.
    The school gym was done up as best as it could be, though it was still obviously a gym. But the fluorescents were off, little white Christmas lights and paper flowers hung from the walls, and we had a DJ, so at least it had the proper sense of occasion.
    Wendy was at the dance too, obviously. She came with one of the seniors, “as friends.” He got the status of bringing last year’s Homecoming queen, and she got to bask in her fading glory one more time.
    I was talking to Ben and some other sophomores, when Wendycame up. She looked me up and down and said, “Where did you get that dress?”
    “The Gap,” I said, blanking on anything higher end.
    “That’s a lie,” she said, and she was right. I got it at the consignment shop on Main Street for forty-three dollars. “The Gap doesn’t sell prom dresses. I know where you got that dress. It was mine. I wore it two years ago.”
    This was true, I confirmed, too late. The next day, I looked in the yearbook, and there was Wendy at the 2002 Homecoming dance, all resplendent in the frilly horror. Only it was new then.
    I could feel everyone looking, silent and embarrassed for me. I wanted to crawl out of that dress and leave it on the floor. But I wouldn’t give Wendy the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. I raised my chin and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Wendy. Did you want to wear it again? I didn’t realize adults were allowed to come to kids’ dances.”
    My friends laughed, and I flounced off while I still had the last word. Also, before anyone could see the tears in my eyes. I walked over to the DJ and pretended to look at the list of songs. That’s when Coach came up to me. He was chaperoning the dance. He wore a dark suit and light blue tie that matched his eyes. For a minute, I was stunned by how good he looked.
    He handed me a tissue and said, “Don’t worry about Wendy. She’s just jealous. You look better in that dress than she ever did.”
    “Thanks.” I turned so no one could see me dabbing my eyes. I hoped my blue eyeliner wouldn’t run.
    “I don’t know what’s worse,” he said. “Being a chaperone at these dances, or being a kid at them.”
    “That’s easy. All you have to do is stand there, looking all . . . nice . . . in your suit.”
    “Ah, so it must seem. But in fact it’s a tricky job. Look over there.” He cocked his head at a bunch of boys—football players—standing in a darkened corner, passing something around.
    “Booze?” I asked.
    “I expect so.”
    “Are you going to bust them?”
    “That’s the million-dollar question.”
    “You’re the chaperone. Seems like a pretty easy call,” I said, even though I didn’t want those kids to get in trouble.
    “Yeah? Say I bust them for alcohol. What then? They get suspended or expelled, in their senior year. Arrested, even. Not good for their careers. And then how do I field a team? We’d never make it to state finals.”
    I laughed.
    “Maybe you can just talk to them?” I said. “Tell them to pour it out?”
    “That might be just the answer.” He smiled at me, like I’d come up with a wise and insightful solution. Then his face got serious. “But listen, Jody. There’s going to be a lot of drinking tonight. Things can get out of hand at these parties. Take care of yourself.”
    “Okay.” I shrugged. I certainly hoped things would get out of hand. What was the fun otherwise? He handed me a piece of paper. It had his phone number written on it.
    “Call me if you ever need help. I’ll pick you up and take you home, no questions asked. And I won’t tell your mom if you don’t want me to.”
    I held that little piece of paper like it was the Hope Diamond. I didn’t have many adults I could count on in my life.
    “Thank you,” I said. I folded it into a neat square and put it in my purse.
    “I want to show you something.” He steered me to the other side of the gym and pointed up at the board that listed the school records. It was black with