Where the Truth Lies Read Online Free PDF

fingers in an easy wave.
    “You know how her mother’s a cocaine addict?” Grace murmurs under her breath.
    I nod. It’s been in the tabloids, on and off, for years.
    Grace hooks her arm through mine, leans closer to whisper, “I heard she relapsed.”
    Grace can be a major gossip sometimes. But I still feel bad for Renee. I can’t imagine what it would be like to grow up with a mother like that.
    Before I have a chance to respond to the wave, Renee turns around to lead the way again. She isn’t wearing her school blazer. The back of her white shirt is untucked from her plaid skirt. Her hair is pulled into two messy braids that trail down her back, leaving wet spots that make it obvious she isn’t wearing a bra.
    “I don’t know how she gets those groupies,” Grace says. “For someone so rich, she’s awfully … disheveled.”
    I’m wondering if she has a blow-dryer back in New York; if she let her hair air-dry when she went to the Oscars with Bruce Graham. “I don’t know, Grace,” I say. “If you were in seventh grade, wouldn’t you want to be just like her?”
    Grace doesn’t say anything; she just shakes her head.
    “Tell me if you see the new boy,” I say.
    “Oh, I will.”
    We walk silently, both of us staring at Renee.
    Even now—even though we don’t have a single thing in common, besides Franny—I can’t stop feeling disappointed that she didn’t wait for me to wave back before she turned around.

chapter three
    Tonight we’re having ham for dinner, carved on a marble slab by Digger, the head of the dining hall staff. He’s a tall, quiet guy in his late sixties whose wielding of a carving knife makes everyone somewhat uncomfortable. The ham is cloyingly sweet, its smell thick enough to make me want to gag in this heat.
    We can sit anywhere we want. Since I know Steph was a little miffed by all the joking about her and Ethan, I decide to sit with just Grace tonight. I can see my parents across the dining hall; Stephanie and Franny are at their table, along with Ethan and a few other boys from his dorm.
    Even though the room isn’t that big, Grace can’t spot Del Sugar.
    “He must not be here,” she says, shrugging. “Oh well. You’ll see him tomorrow, I’m sure.”
    I nibble at the edge of a dinner roll, unwilling to touch my ham, which appears to actually be sweating . “Then where is he?”
    She shrugs again. The topic feels old already, like the whole thing might have been a misunderstanding or exaggeration, like maybe he’s not really here at all. As I said, nobody ever comes after the beginning of the year. If he were here, everyone would be looking at him.
    “I heard he’s some kind of prodigy,” Grace says, “and that’s why Dad let him in.”
    “Really?” I don’t even flinch when she calls my father “Dad.”
    “Yes.”
    A prodigy. There are plenty of those here already. It doesn’t make any sense.
    After dinner, I kind of forget about Del. I’ve got more important things on my mind.
    It’s already pitch-dark, but still hot. Outside the dining hall, it smells like warm ham and autumn. There’s just a twinge of the smell of the ocean, which is always present in Connecticut, no matter how far inland you go.
    Grace and I wait for Steph and Franny outside the dining hall. Once the four of us are standing alone together, I say, “Okay. How are we going to do this?”
    Stephanie still wants to sulk a little. “I just want to say again,” she announces, “that plenty of people get matching tattoos.”
    Franny wasn’t in on our conversation earlier, but she’s heard about Steph’s whole “matching tattoos” idea already. She snorts. Tug . “Husbands and wives. Rock stars and gold diggers. Not brothers and sisters , Stephanie.”
    “I don’t want to fight,” Grace says. “I want to play a joke on Dad.”
    “Steph, honey.” I put my arm around her. “It’s okay. We’re just kidding.”
    She pouts. “No, you aren’t. You think it’s