Read Online We Know It Was You by Maggie Thrash - Free Book Online Page A

CHILL , and Virginia had started the school year determined to be his girlfriend. She had spent every free period in the AV lab, probing Skylar’s mind for the mysterious, philosophical thoughts that she was certain must be in there somewhere. But after a few weeks Virginia learned the important lesson that some people who seem mysterious are actually just incredibly stoned.
    Virginia eyed the camera in her backpack. Mr. Choi? she thought for the hundredth time. It was so weird and random. Maybe he’d been paying Brittany to do his lecherous peeping for him. Except that didn’t make sense, because the Montagues were already rich.
    â€œThat smells really nice,” came a girl’s voice from inside one of the stalls.
    â€œThank you,” Virginia said, taking a final spritz of the perfume.
    â€œIt smells like . . . I dunno. Like a rose.”
    Virginia frowned, annoyed. She didn’t want to smell like a rose. She wanted to smell like yearning or eternity .
    â€œCan I use some?” The stall door swung open, and a tall blond girl stepped out, dramatically wobbling on a pair of high heels. One glance at her face and it was obvious that the girl was way on drugs. But for once Virginia reserved her snotty judgments, because this wasn’t just some druggy lowlife skulking in the girls’ room. This was Angie Montague.
    Virginia’s mouth hung open stupidly for a moment. What is she doing here? Half the school was missing today, and Angie was the last person anyone expected to show up. And who could blame her for wanting to drug out—only why was she doing it at school   ?
    â€œUh, sure,” Virginia managed to say finally, holding out the perfume bottle.
    â€œThanksss,” said Angie. She reached out and swiped the perfume, then immediately dropped it. The glass bottle shattered on the filthy bathroom tiles, and within seconds the air was thick with the pungent smell of perfume. Angie looked at her hand with confusion, as if she expected the perfume bottle to rematerialize. Then she burst into tears.
    â€œI’m so sorry!” she cried out, crumpling to her knees. The perfume’s smell wafted up from the floor.
    â€œWhoa, it’s okay,” Virginia said, coughing a little fromthe smell and wondering if she should go get a guidance counselor.
    â€œI’ll pay you back!” Angie said, sobbing into her knees. “How . . . how much was it?”
    â€œUm, forty dollars . . . but don’t worry about it, really.”
    â€œForty dollars?” Angie gasped. “Where am I going to get forty dollars? MY PURSE WAS STOLEN!” Then she collapsed in tears, burying her face in her hands.
    Virginia felt her lip curl in irritation. She’d been prepared to excuse Angie’s histrionics, but this was just insulting. She didn’t need to make up some story about her purse being stolen. She was Angie Montague; she could probably reach up her ass and pull out forty dollars.
    â€œI said don’t worry about it,” Virginia said icily. “You can write me a check.”
    â€œDo you have anything to eat?” Angie demanded. “I’m fucking starving.” And she actually looked kind of starving. Her cheeks were hollow and colorless, and she seemed weak.
    Virginia rummaged in her bag and found a crumbly old granola bar. “Here,” she said, handing it to Angie. Angie took it, but then just stared at it.
    â€œSo . . . are you gonna eat it or what?” Virginia asked her.
    Angie glared at her, and her eyes were suddenly clear and ferocious. “Oh my GOD, get OUT of here! I want CORNY! I want a HUG! Not you and your disgusting trailer-trash perfume!”
    Virginia stumbled backward, startled by Angie’s outburst. “Sorry,” she muttered. The heavy perfume was making her dizzy. She turned and ran out the door, and immediately crashed into the soft, hefty chest of Corny