that he’s not interested in anything more than going for a run.” He gave her a hard look. “Was she offended?”
“Well, no, but that’s not the point. I’m offended.”
“I can’t imagine why. I took your houseguest out for a run, as promised. We even had a nice breakfast afterward. I paid. She and Laura Reed hit it off. If Jan stays in town, I imagine they’ll be friends.”
“If I wanted her to make a bunch of friends here, I’d have thrown a party,” she retorted. “Believe me, I can do Southern hospitality with the best of them.”
J.C. worked hard to stifle a grin. “Jan’s a very nice woman, Debra. She’s smart, levelheaded and practical. I mentioned to Bill that we ought to look into adding a nurse practitioner. He said he’d be happy to interview her, if she’s interested in staying.”
“Well, why would she stay now, with you all but declaring yourself off-limits?”
“Because she’d love the job and the town?” he suggested lightly. “Those would be the wise reasons to make such a drastic move clear across the country.”
She frowned at him. “You are very annoying.”
“Only because you didn’t get your way,” he said. “Get Laine Tillis into room two, okay?”
“Already done,” she said with a sniff. “Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m not going to do my job.”
“Much appreciated,” he told her with total sincerity.
That, he hoped, would be the end of her matchmaking…if he was lucky.
* * *
The starting bell for third period rang. Laura looked around the classroom and sighed. To her regret, there was no sign of Misty. Just as she was about to finish taking attendance, the door opened and Misty slipped in, hurrying to the very back of the room.
Laura heard a few whispered comments as she passed, but she couldn’t make out what was said. Whatever it was, though, put dull red patches of color onto Misty’s cheeks. Even from the front of the room, Laura couldn’t mistake the sheen of tears in the girl’s eyes.
Though she very badly wanted to get to the bottom of those comments, she decided to let it pass for now. She had a hunch one word would send Misty fleeing right back out the door.
Fortunately there was a test scheduled, which guaranteed absolute silence. There was a rustling of papers, a shuffling of feet, but no further whispering.
For the next forty-five minutes, Laura walked up and down the aisles, monitoring as the students wrote their essay responses. In the back of the room, she paused and gave Misty’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
Misty glanced up at her, her expression filled with such misery that it nearly broke Laura’s heart.
“I’ve finished the test. Could I please leave now?” Misty begged.
Though she wanted to insist that she stay right here until the class ended in another ten minutes, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“I’ll give you a pass for the library,” she said quietly.
Misty gave her a grateful look, followed her to the front of the room, then all but ran out the door, leaving Laura to wonder what on earth she was supposed to do to fix this, whatever this was.
When the bell rang, she glanced at the students who’d been whispering earlier and picked one at random. “Trish, could I see you for a minute? The rest of you are dismissed. Leave your papers on my desk.”
Trish Peterson shifted nervously from foot to foot while her classmates left. Only after the last of them had gone, did Laura meet her gaze.
“I need to go,” Trish said. “I have P.E. next period and Miss Wilcox gets really mad if we’re late.”
“I’ll write an excuse for you,” Laura said. “Have a seat.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Trish asked. “I wasn’t cheating, Ms. Reed. I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know,” Laura assured her. “But at the beginning of class, when Misty came in, there seemed to be a bit of a stir. I was hoping you could fill me in on what that was about.”
Trish’s eyes widened with alarm. “I don’t know what you mean,” she insisted, though it was obvious to Laura that she was lying. She’d been as chatty as her friends.
“You said something to Annabelle,” Laura reminded her. “A couple of the boys made comments, as well. Do you all have a problem of some kind with Misty?”
“Not me,” Trish said at once.
“Then who does?”
“No one, I swear it,” she said, her gaze darting around.
“I hope that’s the case,” Laura told her emphatically, hoping to get her point across that whatever they were up to wasn’t going to be tolerated. “Because I’d hate to find out you’re not being truthful.”
“Look, it’s got nothing to do with me, okay?” Trish insisted, her expression pleading. “Could I have that note now? I have to go. I’m the captain of one of the volleyball teams. I really need to be there.”
Though she wanted to pursue the subject some more, Laura reluctantly jotted out a note to Pam Wilcox, then waved Trish off. Though the girl had given away nothing, Laura was more convinced than ever that someone in her class was deliberately tormenting Misty and that others were going along with it. She just needed to figure out who, and how bad it had gotten.
* * *
Misty sat in the library with her head down on her books trying to keep herself from crying. No matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about the rude comments the other kids had made as she’d hurried to her seat in Ms. Reed’s class. Worse, she knew Ms. Reed had heard them, maybe not the words, but the whispering. What if she started asking a lot of questions? She was already determined to figure out what was going on. If she’d called Annabelle or any of the others on the carpet after class, Misty was probably doomed.
When the bell rang, she was tempted to stay right here. Mrs. Martin, the librarian, wouldn’t care if she stayed. She could just show her the pass again and explain she was doing an extra credit project for English.
She was still debating whether or not to risk it, when a shadow fell across the table. She looked up to find Annabelle scowling down at her.
“You need to watch it, slut,” Annabelle said.
She spoke in a sneering way that made Misty wonder how half the town could think Annabelle was some sweet little Southern belle. Of course, most people had never seen this mean side of her.
“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Annabelle prodded when Misty remained determinedly silent. “You are such a loser.”
Enough, Misty thought, squaring her shoulders. “If I’m such a loser, why are you so obsessed with me?” she retorted,
