I am screwed.

The fancy red note card with golden letters scrawled across it told me that much as it fluttered to the ground. I had to clasp my hands together to stop them from shaking. No matter how hard my lungs worked, my breath came short. The words that I had just read played over and over again.

P.S. Next time you commit murder, don't be so obvious.

I looked down at the golden words that stared back at me tauntingly. I ignored the variety of sympathetic and strange glances kids threw as they shuffled past. I couldn't seem to move.

Images flickered through my eyes. He fell off the railing, his face turning from tantalizing to pure fear as he realized what had happened. He was lying on the ground blood seeping across the leaves and into the water. The sirens screamed through the woods and the police lights reflected off the trees. My stomach clenched as guilt welled up, threatening to make my eyes water.

You can't do this, not here.

I took a deep breath.

Get the fuck together.

I unclasped my hands as the shaking slowed and bent down, gently picking up the card that had appeared in my locker this morning. I folded it back up and shoved it back inside before slamming the door shut. I leaned my head forward on the locker door as I tried to steady my dizzying thoughts.

Someone knew what happened yesterday. Someone knew I killed him. Who? Who was this Secret Keeper? How did they know? My breathing got heavier again.

Stop it, Vera.

I closed my eyes and envisioned the events of the last night. I needed to let it go, push it away. I thought of it from an outside perspective. I was watching some other girl argue with a random boy. I watched some other girl push him off the railing. I watched some other girl scream as she found the random boy's dead body. I watched her run. I watched the entire scene unfold as if it was happening to something else. It merely became a movie, one that I had enjoyed in the theater with popcorn sitting next to Jason and the Kleizmick siblings and Tyler and Alyssa.

I didn't kill him.

My breathing steadied. The assault of emotions and guilt left leaving me with nothing. My heart felt dark and empty.

I didn't kill him.

"Hey, Vera."

I jumped as a girl's voice came from inches away. I looked up to find Alyssa Alder's majestic figure standing right next to me, her turquoise blue eyes filled with concern, her blonde hair cascading down her sleeveless white top. The 5 inch skirt she wore scandalously violated the school dress code as it exposed her perfectly toned legs. The black Mui Mui boots gave her an extra two inches to her already tall frame. Sweet vanilla perfume wafted into my nose. As always, my cousin looked like a goddess. Except for her face.

Her face was stunning, don't get me wrong. The scarlet red lipstick and mascara and hints of foundation were done perfectly. There was just something off about it. After staring at her for sixteen years I could tell her makeup was put on in quickly, as if she rushed through it. The only part that looked worked on was the spot under her eyes. The foundation was applied precisely, no doubt trying to cover up dark circles.

"Hi, Alyssa."

"Thinking about Jason?" she asked, referring to my earlier position against the locker.

I nodded. You have no idea.

"Me too. I couldn't sleep for so long last night after we got back home."

Guilt crept back up my throat. I pushed it down.

I didn't kill him.

"Jordan and Julia aren't at school today," Alyssa informed me.

"Of course they aren't," a boy's voice spoke from behind. "Their brother just died."

I turned to find Tyler Turnpike standing behind me. His dark brown eyes flicked between Alyssa and I, brown hair a little wet from the rain. The blue and gold varsity jacket sat proudly on his shoulders paired with jeans. He leaned against the lockers casually. The only thing ruining the image were his tense shoulders.

"You look considerably well," he told Alyssa.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, "It's hard not to look good when you're the daughter of a movie star and an internationally acclaimed model."

Tyler smirked and nodded at me, "You too."

I needed to act normal and confident today. If they can do it, I can do it.

They weren't responsible for murdering him.

I didn't kill him.

I pushed the thought away and managed to shrug with a fake smile, "I know."

Tyler, satisfied with my answer, looked down at his phone.

"So," Alyssa said. "You're coming to the funeral tomorrow, right?"

"The funeral?" I questioned. My mind whirled. Were they already doing Jason's funeral? Should I even be going? Do I deserve to go? Would it be too suspicious if I didn't?

"My idiotic stepfather's funeral. It's tomorrow, remember?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed. Relief swept through me as I remembered that her step father had died only days earlier. Then I felt guilty. Again.

Fuck my life.

"I'm so sorry, Alyssa! I nearly forgot about it after-"

"-after Jason," Alyssa she finished. "It's fine. I did too. It wasn't until my mother reminded me that I remembered the asshole died. Finally."

I nodded, used to this behavior from Alyssa. "I'll be there, don't worry."

"Me too," Tyler added, still staring at his phone.

"Good. I could use buffer so that I don't drown all of my sorrows in champagne. That would be a little too much alcohol."

I wanted to offer words of encouragement but kept my mouth shut. Alyssa was never one who listened to empty "I'm sorry's" or "It'll be alright's". She never needed them. She knew if you were sorry or if it would be alright or not and she didn't give a damn. No matter the answer, she would carry on. It was one of the reasons my nine year old brother had a brief crush on her. Thank god that ended.

Besides, how could I comfort her and tell her everything would be fine if I was falling apart myself?

"Don't do anything stupid," Tyler told her, interrupting my thoughts.

"When have I ever done something stupid?" Alyssa asked with a mischievous smile. We rolled our eyes.

A silence fell between the three of us as we leaned against the lockers, our thoughts drifting off to the one place we tried so hard to avoid as we meticulously wove our conversation away from the missing members of our group. We tried not to think of him as we plastered confident smiles on our faces for the onlookers that passed by, avoiding our gaze.

Like me, they didn't want to think about him. Not here where everyone could witness them breaking down. Unlike me, they weren't trying to hide the fact that it was their fault.

Tyler cleared his throat, "We should probably get to class."

Alyssa and I nodded in agreement and walked off in separate directions.

I turned onto my driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. I drove up the long driveway and parked my car in the garage. I leaned back in my seat, taking another deep breath. Just yesterday I was sitting in my garage in the exact same position. Just before that I had killed Jason.

Jason who was simply sitting on the railing, swinging his legs.

No. Go away.

I still needed to make it to my room. I took out the keys and stepped out of my car, taking in a deep breath as the smell of gasoline invaded my nose. I always loved the smell of our garage.

I stepped inside the house, dropping the bag at the kitchen counter.

"Mom! I'm home!" I called out into the house.

"Hi Vera!" a voice called back as my mother made her way down the stairs. "How was your day?"

"It was fine, Mom," I replied quietly. My mom looked at me with some concern but decided not to press figuring that my lack of enthusiasm had something to do with Jason's death. And it did.

Her turquoise blue eyes watched me carefully as I made myself a sandwich.

"You got some mail today," she told me.

"I did?" I wasn't expecting anything. "Who was it from?"

"I didn't check. Would you like me to?"

"No, no it's fine. I'll open it," I told her and grabbed my bag before heading upstairs.

"I left the letter on your desk!" she called back to me.

"Thanks," I told her and made my way up the stairs and down the hall.

I could hear my brother playing with legos in his room. He must've built another spaceship with the legos from the Harry Potter set or somehow made the Saint Louis Arch with legos that were made to build a house. I smiled.

I trudged into my room and shut the door behind me, dropping my bag on the ground, setting down my plate before flinging myself onto the bed.

I laid down expecting all of the emotions and guilt to flood me. Nothing came. The movie technique worked too well.

I sighed and turned to my desk. A white envelope was innocently placed amongst the textbooks and papers that were sprawled across it. I reached over and grabbed it, my fingers grazing the smooth texture of the envelope. It was definitely smoother than most. Whoever sent it had spent quite a lot of money on a simple white envelope.

The letters "Vera Reinhart" was written in cursive with so many swirls it made me dizzy. It reminded me of masquerade ball invitation.

I tore open the flap, my mind now thinking about my first masquerade ball from when I was thirteen. The contents spilled out of the envelope and landed on the bed. My heart stopped.

Lying on the bed was a folded red card with the swirly golden letters "SK" stamped on the flaps.

I am screwed.

Vera: Vote if you're screwed too.

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