Lost Reputation

By Kimberly Ann Miller

Casey Hayes has a secret—she writes the conspiracy theory column for her high school newspaper. As the editor, she thrives on the thrill of uncovering the facts—until she gets tangled up in a scandal.

When she exposes a teacher’s shameful secret, threats start, demanding she stop spreading the vicious rumors. Casey blows it off and keeps on writing. Even sexy Victor Cruz, the hot senior with the adorable accent who chases after Casey and tries to protect her, fails to convince her to keep her mouth shut. But things only get worse as she ignores the warnings, and soon, Casey must decide if exposing the truth is more important to her than her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Teen
• Release date: Oct 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781773390130

Book preview

Chapter One

The dead brown rat hanging in my locker didn’t scare me. But my veins heated and my cheeks burned as I watched blood run down the thing’s jaw and drip onto my brand new Nike sneakers. I untied the string holding it up, grabbed its hairless pink tail, and flung it over my shoulder. The scream of the sophomore behind me when it landed at her feet echoed my own feelings.

I wanted to scream, too. But I had to keep it together. I always kept it together—at least, everyone else thought I did. I hid my true feelings quite well.

With four older brothers to beat on me, I was used to pranks and threats and all kinds of bullshit. Add to that my Taekwondo training, and I was pretty good at taking care of myself.

No, the rat didn’t scare me. But it didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, either.

I groaned, yanked a tissue out of my tiny leather purse, and wiped the red gooey stuff off my sneaker. Yuck.

Someone was going to pay for this.

Who the hell would do this to me? I sighed. The list of candidates was, unfortunately, long.

I heard a yelp behind me. Ew, is that blood? Charli, my best friend, asked as she peeked over my shoulder. Her green eyes darkened, and she covered them with her thin hand. Please say no. I hate blood.

I straightened and peeled her fingers away from her eyes. It’s blood. From a rat. That someone hung in my locker and let bleed all over my new sneakers. I glanced around the hall, watching people as they passed, with suspicion. They left a note, too. I handed her the red-smeared paper that said, Watch your back. She held the edge with her nails as if it was covered in spiders. Someone is going to die for this. Painfully.

She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. The color drained from her face as she searched my eyes. Why would someone do this to you? No one is that pissed off at you, are they? By her faltering tone, it was clear she knew the answer to that question.

I laughed, but my clenching stomach betrayed the confidence I was trying to throw at Charli. Good thing she couldn’t see my insides.

There were a few people in school who didn’t like me for one reason or another, and any one of them could have done this. No matter the reason, people had every right not to like me, but threats? Dead animals?

Unacceptable.

The list of pissed-off-at-Casey people ran through my head. The threat wasn’t specific, so I couldn’t pinpoint who was most likely to have done it. Give me a break. This was high school, not the mob.

My future investigative-reporter-self kicked into gear. My after school to do list ran through my head: stalk Facebook … stalk Instagram … stalk Snapchat. Call a few contacts. Sit in the dark corner of Starbucks with my laptop and listen for intel.

Someone had to know something. And no one was good at keeping their mouths shut in these halls. Word would come out sooner or later.

That someone would spend so much time and energy to get into my locker and tie up that rat concerned me. What else would they be willing to do? A chill ran up my spine at the thought.

I closed my locker and inspected it. The lock was intact. The metal undamaged. Whoever did this either knew my combo or was excellent at breaking and entering.

Well, I said, sighing as I spit out the list of haters. There’s Mishell from my English class who’s upset that I got paired with her boyfriend for a project and he keeps flirting with me, but I doubt that warrants a dead rat in my locker.

She grimaced. Dan Hocklyn?

I nodded. Like I’d be interested in him? Please. She could have him and all his faults as far as I was concerned. Then there’s that hot jock I beat in volleyball the other day, which prompted his so-called friends to call him some colorful and harsh names. I balled up the bloody tissue and stuffed it in the back of my locker amid the growing pile of trash. He’s a possibility because, damn, that boy has anger issues. He freaked out when his team lost, and he directed all his anger at me.

Charli wrapped her arms around her tiny frame. Jonathan, that wrestler?

I nodded again and flicked some stray hair out of my face. Who else? He ripped the net throwing his cell phone at me after my team won the game. What a dick. I checked myself in the magnetic mirror I had hanging on my locker door and smoothed out my hair. Charli, are my eyes always this dark? I thought they were a lighter gray. I squinted at my unusual reflection, wondering what happened to their color.

She leaned in and inspected them. Whenever you’re mad or upset, they darken. So, I would say it’s true that the eyes are the window to the soul. And your soul is pissed off.

I chuckled. You got that right. I mean, look at my brand new sneaks! That blood had better not stain. And it had better not be diseased, either.

She winced and stepped away from my locker. So you think it was Jonathan?

I held up a finger. Hold on, I’m not done listing the haters slash list of suspects. And then there’s Mace’s ex, Candace. She hates me. She blames me for their breakup, but hello, when you cheat on your boyfriend with his brother, is it anyone’s fault he leaves you but your own? Geez.

She snorted. Agreed. Sleeping with your boyfriend’s family members is not the best way to keep your boyfriend happy. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. She narrowed her eyes at me. But why would she blame you? That doesn’t make any sense.

I shrugged. I might have told Mace that I saw her out with Maxwell.

Charli raised a brow. So? Maybe they were just hanging out.

I added a giggle. I also might have told him that they were making out in the backseat of a car like starved rabbits.

She let out a low whistle. Oh. Point taken. She leaned against my locker and hugged her books to her ample chest. Casey, how can you have so many enemies? I mean, we’re still in high school, and we’ve only been in school a few weeks! She shook her head in the way she always did when she didn’t approve of something I did, which was all the time. Is there anyone else?

I stared at the broken light above my locker as I thought about it. Nah, I think that about covers it.

But I had a secret that even she didn’t know, and it could have been the reason for the threatening note I’d gotten, as well as that poor dead animal left in my locker. I couldn’t tell her my secret, so I just left it out of our conversation.

Charli shivered despite her ever-present bulky sweater. Good. So, who do you think, out of all of those jackoffs, is likely to be the rat killer?

I shrugged. If I had to guess, I would say Jonathan. Girls wouldn’t be as likely to touch a nasty dead rat from anatomy lab or a live one from the science room.

The light bulb went off in my brain as I thought of something else. It could also have been one of my brothers. I think two of them had this same locker before me, and I doubt they change the combination each year. Which would explain how the rat got in there without my lock getting damaged.

Ugh.

Charli chuckled, but my guts quivered.

My brothers lived to torment me. Which was fine, because it toughened me up, and I gave it right back. In moments like these, I could have thanked them for all the crap they put me through. The more emotion I would show, the harder they would torment. So I learned to be cool on the outside, even if I was crippled on the inside, ready to fold. Since they all went away to college, I hadn’t had to deal with this kind of thing for a while, but the lessons I learned served me well when faced with bad situations. Like dead rats and threats.

The chuckle died on her lips. But they’re away at school. I doubt it was any of them. She checked out the rat again, giving it a grimace. Are you going to report this?

I scoffed at that thought. Report it to whom? Nope. For what? So they can tell me they can’t do anything without evidence? Forget it. I’ll figure it out on my own.

She glanced around the hall and lowered her voice. Does Mace know about this?

I pinned her with a glare and pointed at her chest. No, and do not tell him. I don’t want him to worry about me. He thinks I’m reckless enough and will just get upset. He doesn’t need that, and I don’t want to listen to him complain about how I handle it.

She shook my finger and pushed it away. So you’re just going to let this go? And not tell anyone? Her usual I-do-not-approve face followed—she cocked her head to the side, raised an eyebrow, and stared me down.

Exactly. If someone decides to turn up the threats, I’ll reconsider reporting it, but for now, I’ll rely on myself. If someone is that mad at me and decides to follow me home or something, I’ll kick their ass. Without hesitation.

I sifted through the books on the shelf in my locker, trying to remember what class I had next. Geez, I was lucky I knew what day it was. Or, maybe the rat had affected me a little more than I wanted to admit. Dammit. What period are we heading to?

Charli sighed. Second. The school day just started, remember?

Ugh, don’t remind me. Six more hours of this crap? Unimaginable.

She whipped out her smart phone and checked the time. Stop fooling around and let’s go. The bell’s gonna ring.

Yeah, yeah. I’m done. I grabbed a random book and shoved it in my messenger bag. Slamming the locker shut and checking the lock, I held her elbow and led her down the hall.

She pulled something out of her powder blue backpack and handed it to me. Did you see the latest Case in Point column? Damn, where does that person come up with that stuff? It has got to be some stoner on drugs.

I scanned the column from the Case Courier, our school newsletter. I was the editor of the paper, so of course, I had seen the column, but it was always fun to read the creative words on the page.

Bugged, Drugged, and Hugged

Be careful about what you say in the bathrooms, students! Rumor has it they may be bugged, so someone may be listening in on all our secrets! And how do we know this? Well, Trinity Smith took a pregnancy test while her younger sister was in the bathroom with her in the science wing. No one else was in there at the time, so how did it happen that people were already whispering about the prospective father when they emerged?

Case in Point will tell you—the bathrooms are bugged. What other explanation is there? Add to that the fact that Trinity found a tiny electronic device taped to the top of the paper towel dispenser and you’ve got our reason to be paranoid.

We’re not saying the school planted it, but someone sure is listening when we conduct our private business…

And what about the school lunches? Has anyone else noticed how sleepy and calm we get after lunch? The possible problem may be drugs in the food to keep us in line. Judging by the people I know, we need it! Case in Point has also noticed a certain lunch lady adding some questionable stuff to the food. Was it a spice or something to make us nice? Further investigations may just flesh out the answer.

Saving the best for last—could it be true that a teacher and student are having an affair? Because if it is, that teacher is taking sex education a little too far! Hey, maybe she’s just really dedicated to her job! Case in Point will do what we can to bring more answers to these scandals in the next edition, because we can’t be sure if this is fact or fiction. Stay tuned for more information as it becomes available.

As always, any student with any information about the above or anything of interest is welcome to drop off an anonymous note to the newsroom. Just slip it under the door, and Case in Point will take care of the rest!

Chapter Two

I chuckled at Charli’s assessment of the writer. I’m sure the rumors aren’t that far off. Strange stuff happens in every school, every day, Charli.

Casey, wait up, Mace called from behind us. We both turned to see my cousin jogging down the hall. With his buzz cut hair and dark gray eyes, he looked ready to join the marines at any second. He was addicted to working out, and it showed. His biceps bulged under his blue button down, and his sculpted waist begged any girl to wrap their arms around it. At almost six feet, he commanded the attention of people around him, which was good because he had huge career goals—he wanted to be the President.

As in, of the United States. Yikes.

He stopped in front of us and kissed me on the cheek. Hey, cuz. Hi, Charli. We having lunch today?

I shook my head. Got some editorial stuff to do for the paper. But I thought it was cool that he still wanted to eat with me despite our vastly different career goals and social circles. We were closer than I was with my brothers growing up, and Mace was a great guy. He always had my back and never let me down.

He nodded and walked with us to class. Did you read that last conspiracy theory shit? Really? Where do they come up with this stuff?

I stifled a laugh. It entertained me to listen to what people thought about the theories and gossip in the column. I felt like I knew something they didn’t know—which I did. Which idea did you think was wrong? I asked.

He threw his hands up. All of it! Seriously, drugging school lunches to keep the kids in line? Bugging the bathrooms? That shit is all illegal.

I rolled my eyes. Oh, yeah, and nothing that isn’t legal ever happens here in Point Pleasant, New Jersey. Why would anyone think of such a thing?

And my favorite, he continued, ignoring me, was teachers having sex with students. Seriously, in this day and age where everyone gets caught, who would do that? He laughed, but then choked and rubbed his throat. I noticed a small bruise on his jaw.

What happened to your jaw? I asked, pointing to the purple spot lining the side of his face.

He pushed my hand away. I slipped in the bathroom and caught my face on the edge of the tub.

Ouch, I said. Want me to kiss it and make it better like my mom used to do?

I leaned in toward him but he stopped me with a firm hand on my shoulder. No. Don’t touch it, it’s sore.

I felt a little snubbed, but maybe he was just in pain. Men were big babies. Fine. But I agree, who would think they could get away with that? Usually men did, as most of our news reports were about men in politics and schools who messed up and were so shocked they got caught.

Ugh. Why didn’t women run the world yet?

Charli shrugged. Obviously it’s someone too stupid to think they might get caught. How can people be so dumb? She shook her head in disgust. This is why I want to be a paralegal. We need to clean up this world.

I scrunched up my eyebrows. How can they be so dumb, you ask? Because people are dumb? Makes perfect sense to me. I glanced at Mace and rolled my eyes.

She smacked my arm. I know, biotch. Idiots like this are always going to need legal help, and I can help them without having to suffer a heart attack facing everyone in court.

Poor Charli. She would make a great lawyer, but she was too damn shy and introverted to do it. Paralegal would be the perfect job for her. You can say that again. I wish we knew who they were talking about. I sighed. As hard as I tried to find out who was involved after the story broke, no one knew the details. But what I had heard was some senior snuck out of school and met up with one of the teachers for an apparent sex ed class—in private. Lucky guy.

I stopped in front of my next class. This is me, guys. See you at lunch if I finish my editorial stuff.

Mace gave me a quick hug and headed down the hall with Charli to their next class. I smiled as the two people I trusted the most chatted and laughed together. It was so great they got along. Mace and I grew up together, and Charli and I have been inseparable since we met in elementary school when I stopped a bully from pulling her hair.

By cutting his with my craft scissors.

Now, if I could just find a nice guy for Charli, everything would be perfect.

Mishell and Dan came down the hall, holding hands. He pulled his large hand away from hers to wave to me, causing Mishell’s cobalt blue eyes to widen, followed by a death glare aimed right at him. Hey, Casey. How you doing? he asked.

Uh-oh. He was in trouble now. And so was I, by the look of fury in Mishell’s eyes.

She freaked, grabbed his hand, and yanked him down the hall. I told you I do not want you talking to her unless you have to, got it? she said to him. She flipped her loosely curled dirty blond hair over her slender shoulder and swayed her hips as they walked away.

I chuckled. Like I would be interested in her boyfriend? Please. After I saw him picking his nose and wiping it under his chair in class, I added him to my not in a million years list.

Ha. She had nothing to worry about. And she didn’t strike me as the threatening type.

To my face, anyway. I doubted she was the rat girl.

I backtracked and ducked into the newsroom before my next class. Knowing I only had two minutes left, I pulled the door shut and locked it. The classroom was almost always empty and used for test preps, so the desks were old and so were the computers and printers, but they worked.

I glanced around, then quickly pulled out my tiny USB stick and, checking over my shoulder once again, transferred the document for the next Case in Point column onto the computer. I ejected it and saved my work before someone showed up and caught me.

I was the writer of the column that had everyone buzzing.

No one knew it was me. I listed the author of the column as Anonymous and told people the document showed up in my mailbox for the paper.

I didn’t want anyone to know I wrote it so I could avoid trouble and judgment for what I’d written. Some of it was rumors, some of it was true, and some of it was seriously things I wondered about. Also, if anyone knew I was the writer, they would shut up around me to keep stuff from me. Since my biggest sources were students who couldn’t keep their mouths shut, I needed to remain anonymous.

One morning right after school started, I came in early to work on the paper. As I walked past the kitchen, I saw one of the lunch ladies sprinkling something on the tray of lasagna. I flattened myself against the wall and watched her. It wasn’t salt, because the salt shaker was next to the tray of lasagna.

It sure as hell wasn’t sugar. Without making any noise, I pulled my phone out to record her. Just as I held the phone up, the janitor whispered in my ear.

What are you doing, kid?

I jumped and grabbed my chest as his words in my ear caused my adrenaline to spike. Holy crap, dude, you just about gave me a heart attack. Why are you sneaking around whispering in people’s ears? Not like that was creepy or anything.

He gave me a stern look and pointed inside the kitchen. Why are you spying on the lunch lady?

I stuffed the phone in my pocket and straightened up. I wasn’t. I was just checking my messages.

He raised an eyebrow at me and jerked a thumb in the direction of the hall. Get going. She’s just making lunch.

Yeah, right, and I was just checking my messages.

I laughed at the memory as I locked up the newsroom and rushed to my next class. I still had a smile on my face as I plopped down on my seat in the back row of calculus. Victor Cruz, my secret crush, entered the room. My pulse reacted to his presence, but, thank God, no other part of me did that he could see. I didn’t want to be lusting after anyone this year because I was planning on working hard toward my college goals and didn’t need the distraction.

The worst thing was, Charli told me he gave his ex-girlfriend some rash because he cheated on her. I so did not do the sexually transmitted diseases thing, and I definitely had zero respect for cheaters. Not even for a hunk like him, who obviously screwed around and didn’t care if he got girls sick.

But damn, did this guy make my insides quiver. He was totally hot. His parents moved to New Jersey from Spain during middle school when Vic was scrawny and didn’t speak much English. When senior year started a month ago, no one recognized him because he’d grown ten inches, gained fifty pounds—of muscle—and must have taken some classes in style because, damn, the boy knew how to dress to show off his build.

Loose jeans with a belt, black