By the time Sunday night rolled around, Rebecca had had plenty of time to think about her situation.

That was a terrible segue. But we're gonna roll with it anyways.

Celeste walked around the kitchen, texting someone and giggling every few seconds, which led Rebecca to believe that she was definitely texting Spencer and simply not telling Rebecca about it...still. Kaylie was in her room, arguing loudly with the guy she had started dating days earlier. He was the third boyfriend in as many weeks, and nothing about Kaylie's relationship-hopping seemed to be alarming to either her or Jamie. And from the words echoing out of Kaylie's room, it didn't look like this one was going to last either.

Rebecca hoped it wasn't another guy that she had picked up at one of Kennedy's parties. The last time that had happened, the guy had been Rian's crush of the past year, and there had been a lot of explaining done on Rebecca's part as to why her roommate could have possibly thought he was fair game.

Jamie was nowhere to be found in the apartment, and Rebecca was pretty sure she hadn't seen the girl in at least three days. Which left Rebecca, sitting by herself in the living room, laptop in front of her as she debated what to do.

She didn't want to betray Kennedy. She didn't want to do anything to upset Kennedy. She didn't even want to look at Kennedy the wrong way. But she was still there, sitting in her living room, convinced that Kennedy was somehow going to ruin everything they had tried to put behind them. And the werewolf kept popping into her head, along with the name 'Jeremy Abrams.' The guy that Kennedy had been talking to, or rather, arguing with, when Rebecca had woken up hungover in her living room over a month earlier.

She pulled up a search engine on her laptop and typed in, 'Jeremy Abrams,' before clicking the search button. Over 8 million results popped up, the most popular of which were about the husband of a Top Chef judge. Rebecca scrolled down for a bit, not finding anyone who looked remotely like Kennedy or who looked like someone she would talk to. So she kept refining her search.

'Jeremy Abrams Clemson'

'Jeremy Abrams phone number'

'Jeremy Abrams Kennedy Abrams'

'Jeremy Abrams Kennedy Abrams phone number'

But nothing seemed noteworthy. The only things she could find about Kennedy herself were some volleyball scores and tournaments won by the girl back in high school.

As she was about to try another search, her phone rang. Rebecca flipped it over and almost had a heart attack at seeing Kennedy's name on the caller ID.

"Hey." She answered, trying not to sound suspicious. As if anyone even knew what it meant to 'sound suspicious.' "What's up?"

"Nothing." Kennedy replied, "I'm just bored. What are you up to?"

Rebecca eyed her seven open tabs with searches about Jeremy Abrams.

"Oh, nothing." She laughed forcibly, "Just doing homework."

"Really?" Kennedy asked, "For what class?"

Rebecca paused for a second.

"Graphic design."

"There's a class that's just called 'graphic design?'"

"Yeah."

"What are you working on?"

"Photoshop."

"Can you send me a picture of it?"

"Why?" Rebecca asked in exasperation, "Do you think I'm lying to you?"

Kennedy didn't speak for a second. Rebecca could hear her breathing on the other end of the line as she seemed to decide what to say next.

"No." She finally replied, "I was just curious."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes and looked at the laptop screen in front of her. The only reason for Kennedy to not innately trust the fact that Rebecca was in fact doing homework would be because she knew what Rebecca was actually doing. Which would mean that Kennedy could somehow see Rebecca's laptop.

"Alright, well, don't be weird about it." Rebecca replied, erasing her last search and typing in another one, just one name: 'Kristopher.'

"I wasn't—"

Kennedy cut herself off just as Rebecca finished typing in the name.

"You okay?" Rebecca asked, her heart starting to race as she closed all of her tabs. "You sound worried."

"I'm fine." Kennedy replied shortly, "Are we still good for lunch tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure." Rebecca replied, "You can drive."

She hung up the phone and set it down on the couch beside her, giving herself a few seconds to calm down. Kennedy had some sort of access to her laptop, whether it was through screen mirroring or just tapping her searches or...something technical that Rebecca didn't know anything about in the first place. Rebecca sat on the couch and stared at her reflection in her now-dark laptop screen. Two very specific questions circled in her head:

How did Kennedy get access to my laptop?

Why does she want access to my laptop?

Her face looked different in the dark screen. She looked tired; worn out from the toll of pretending that she didn't care about being witness to a man's death just a month earlier. She had never thought of herself as particularly pretty, but she felt like she looked even less so as she stared at her reflection: her eyes were tired, her skin was breaking out, her hair was frizzy. Nothing about her appearance screamed anything that she would have thought it would after becoming friends with Kennedy Abrams.

But after realizing about the laptop, Rebecca wasn't even sure if she was friends with Kennedy Abrams. She felt more like a pawn in some massive plot that she was completely oblivious to.

><><

KENNEDY

Kennedy sat back in her seat, her hand shaking as it brought a glass of cucumber water to her lips. She took a sip, slow and purposeful, letting her breathing calm down as the water cooled her. Rebecca Eaves had hung up on her. There were multiple things that were wrong with that, starting with the fact that people didn't hang up on Kennedy. Ever. Sometimes her friends did, but not often.

The thing that was the most wrong with Rebecca hanging up on her was that it meant that Kennedy was losing her grip on the girl. She couldn't afford to lose her grip on the girl; she couldn't afford to lose her grip on anything else at this point. The plan had gone so, so wrong. She had improvised. She had improvised well. But Kennedy's knack for thinking on the spot didn't do much for her if people were starting to catch on.

She stared at her computer screen in front of her, a perfect mirror of Rebecca's laptop. It had gone dark after Rebecca had hung up the phone. But she would have to use it again. Eventually.

Losing her grip on Rebecca meant that Kennedy would have to improvise again. But this time, it would have to be a bit more of a thought-out improvisation. Those two things seemed to counteract each other, but Kennedy was sure she could manage it.

Her phone rang for the fifth time in ten minutes, from the same number. She glanced over at the caller ID. Kristopher. For the fifth time in ten minutes.

Kennedy sighed slightly and answered the phone on its third ring, mentally preparing herself to hear his voice again.

"What, Dad?"