The 2017 #TuesdayBookBlog continues with more fun, excitement, and tension! We’re also in #MysteryThrillerWeek!
Most teens have a close circle of friends, people they trust with their deepest, darkest secret. Then there are those friends you want to help, be with because they have such rotten lives, but you really don’t trust them. Yet, if you hold back, they always seem to know and keep at you until you reveal something that later might be a huge issue.
For high school siblings, Amy and Bryce, the night began with a football game. Bryce was stuck at home with a cold, brought on by an uncaring coach. Amy was in the stands, playing with the band whose funding had been taken away and given to the football team.
Her best friend, Jane, brought the band together to play a prank on the team in protest.
The prank went wrong. Horribly, tragically wrong.
And the lie that started it all would not stop.
It’s Friday night football in Georgia. Me and my buds, the band geeks, sit in the stands. We wear our uniforms, in the sucky orange and black. Most of us play the trombone or saxophone. A few of the girls, me included, hold flutes.
The hat I have to wear with this horrible uniform bunches my hair against my neck. I scratch at the blonde mess, hoping nothing dislodges the clip I’ve used to keep it in place. Several strands work loose and blow around to tickle my nose.
“Ugh.” I shove those strands up under my hat.
My slender hands tremble. I clench them tight around my flute and will my tapping foot to stop. Everyone knows that’s an indicator of how nervous I am, but I can’t help myself. I’ve never been able to tell a lie and not have someone discover what I’m doing in a few minutes. Someone once told me that my face has all of my thoughts written across it. I was six at the time and spent weeks staring at the mirror, trying to see if they were right. Actually, I still don’t know what that expression means, only that I’m a terrible liar so I tend to tell the truth and take trouble if it’s coming my way.
“Is everything ready?” Jane asks.
Pimples ravage her face, an affliction she’s had since sixth grade with no end in sight. She has more problems, ones she’s only confided in to me. Not that I ever wanted that info, but she insisted.
It’ll be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen.