Pierce is waiting outside the cafe when Mom's car rolls to a stop in a five-minute parking spot. I told her that I'm going to meet a friend, though I didn't specify it'd be a guy. I clasp my fingers over my purse's strap, glancing at my mom. With her sunglasses over her eyes and her lips flat, I can't tell what she's thinking.

Hands still on the wheels, she turns to me. "Okay, have fun. Remember that I'm picking you up in an hour and a half at the latest. It seems to me that you have some schoolwork to catch up on."

I duck my head. "Sure thing, Mom." With all the sneaking around and mini investigations, as well as my own anxious thoughts, I haven't been able to keep up with all my assignments. I already missed two daily grades in chemistry and algebra, though I don't want to tell Mom about it if I can help it.

I hop out of the SUV into the cold, autumn air and shut the door behind me. Mom drives away before Pierce approaches me.

"Hey. So you want to join the drama club?"

"It's more like I want more information about it," I hedge. This seemed like the best way to get him to talk about Evan, ease into it by discussing a somewhat related topic. Besides, perhaps Amber was right. Maybe it would be beneficial for my psyche to take up a hobby to distract from my anxiety.

"Sure." He opens the door for me. The bell chimes overhead, and a few people in the crowded coffee shop turn their heads. Warmth surrounds me once more in the heated space. The door shuts, ending the chilly draft of wind that was hitting my back. Almost every table is occupied, many just with one person staring at a computer screen, headphones in and papers strewn around them, a drink within arm's reach.

A jazzy pop song plays over the speakers. I find myself falling into step with the beat as I approach the counter. Two groups wait in front of me. The first is a group of three girls currently telling their orders to the barista. From behind the counter, I see Brian putting his apron on for his shift, which starts right now according to the analogue clock on the wall. A group of guys is next in line. I don't really recognize them except...

I duck my head as warmth rises in my cheeks. One of them is Isaac, the boy I knocked over with the tray earlier this school year. I don't feel as panicked when I think about the incident — too much stuff that's way worse takes up space in my head now — but I still feel bad about it happening. Hopefully he won't notice me.

Gosh, it's crazy when I think back. I was terrified that I might've harmed him, might harm someone by accident. And now, I'm caught up in a murder investigation.

Isaac is laughing and messing around with his buddies, so he doesn't turn around and notice me. Pierce's eyes are glued to the menu, hands in both pockets of his jeans, so he doesn't notice that I'm distracted, either.

"Cash or credit?" the barista asks when the boys approach the counter. They all pull out dollar bills and place them on the counter.

Pierce starts toward the counter first, and I let him go ahead and put space between me and the other boys, who are strolling to the end of the counter, where the finished drinks are placed.

Pierce waves to Brian from behind the counter. "Long time, no see."

"Yeah," Brian chuckles. "It's been what, a full twenty minutes?"

"Drama club just can't ever get out on time." Pierce shakes his head. "Such is life when preparing for the regional one-act play tournament."

"What can I get you?" Brian asks.

"I'll get a cold brew with cinnamon cold foam," Pierce orders. "Largest size possible."

"Coming right up." Brian glances between us. "Is this order together?"

"Separate." Pierce pulls a five dollar bill from his wallet. Brian's brow twitches, eyes flicking between us once more. But he clears his throat and turns to me. "And you?"

"I'll get a small Toasted Marshmallow decaf latte."

"Hot or iced?"

"Hot."

Brian nods. "It's cold outside."

"For sure." I wrap my arms a little tighter around my red windbreaker.

"Cash or credit?"

"Credit." I slip the shiny card into the machine, then pull it out, returning it to my crossbody purse. Pierce and I walk to the end to collect our drinks. The bell rings, and I glance over my shoulder as Isaac and his friends leave the coffee shop. A breath of relief escapes my lungs as they leave. One less awkward interaction to potentially deal with.

"Madelyn and Pierce?" Brian calls. I grab my drink from the counter, relishing the warmth on my palms.

Pierce takes a sip of his coffee. "Where shall we sit?"

Since entering, a table by the window has opened up. We take that one, sliding into chairs opposite each other.

"I'm just going to say it," Pierce chuckles. "Decaf is for the weak."

"Oh really?" I cross my arms. "You prefer to stay up all night?"

And have even more anxious thoughts bombarding your mind?

Pierce laughs. "Fair enough. I'm probably going to pull an all-nighter anyway. All this theater stuff has put me behind on schoolwork."

Despite the levity in his tone, I detect some fatigue and worry.

"I guess theater is a lot of work."

"It takes time and discipline," Pierce replies. "But it's worth it."

"What is this competition you are all preparing for? I remember Hannah mentioning it during lunch, but that's the last I heard of it."

"It's for the East Coast Regional Theater Competition," Pierce says. "It's an invitational only sort of competition. Only the best high school theater groups along the East Coast are invited to participate."

"How do you get invited?"

Pierce shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. "Just by making a name for ourselves I guess. Eralyn has been around long enough to do that."

"I guess you're all really excited to compete."

"Yeah." Pierce rubs the back of his neck. "It's just a lot of work, like I said."

"Do you ever meet outside of school? Like on the weekends?"

"Sometimes. Not this past Saturday because of everything that happened. Besides, Hannah had that group project thing with you for AP euro."

"Did you work on your lines instead?"

"No. Actually, I met up with my own AP Euro group to work on our assignment."

"I didn't realize you were taking that."

"Yeah, well, I think pretty much all the drama club members are."

"Do you get along well with everyone?"

"For the most part. I mean, we're all really passionate about what we do so it makes the environment great to work in. Hannah especially really gets into the whole competition thing. Not that that's a bad thing. She just likes everything to be perfect."

"Is she, uh, difficult to work with at times?"

"Not gonna lie, yeah," Pierce chuckles. "But she means well. There's just a lot at stake for all of us."

"How so?"

"The winning school gets recognized by some major theater magazines and journals. But even more important are the individual actor and actress awards. Major people in the theater arena watch the competition, including major colleges like Julliard and even some Broadway people. To win could be a major career boost."

"Wow. So, are you still doing Hamlet?"

Pierce swallows. He seems more standoff-ish than before, losing the easy demeanor I've seen the last few times I've talked to him. It makes me wonder if his demeanor has been a front this whole time.

"Yes," Pierce says. "Miss Valar says it's best to just stick with the scheduled programming."

"Who's going to play Hamlet?" I ask. "If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"I am."

My eyes widen, but I quickly school my features to temper my surprise. It seems like Pierce had quite a bit to gain from Evan's death. It's not just about being able to play Hamlet; it could be the difference between having an acting career or not.

"Wow, that's a pretty significant role. If you were to win an award, would you likely gain recognition from talent agents?"

"For sure." His hands rub his coffee cup nervously. "That's why I'm really trying to put it all out there. Do my very best."

"Do you want to be a theater major?"

"Naw, I'm going Pre-Law. But it wouldn't hurt to get a scholarship. Law school can be very expensive."

Hence why he needs to be recognized for an award.

"Do you think Evan would do as good a job as you playing Hamlet?"

"Oh, for sure. There's a reason why he was the top pick for that role. I was going to play the uncle."

Thoughts swirl in my head as we sip our coffees. A few beats later, a new line of questioning forms.

"Do you think Evan's personality fit the role?"

Pierce starts by nodding, then stops. "Well, not quite. I mean, Hamlet is an angsty teen. Evan was always cheerful, enthusiastic. Like, he had a stuffed cookie keychain hanging on his backpack. Whenever someone was upset, he'd try to cheer them up with it. With theater, he was more like a chameleon, pulling off crazy different roles in plays. He was more dramatic than anything else, and dramatic is what is needed for Hamlet."

"So he was never moody or anything?"

"He had his stressful moments. But don't we all? On the whole he was just a happy kid."

"Was his behavior ever reckless or erratic? Bordering on manic?"

"No way. I mean, he loved his pranks and doing fun things, but I would never describe him as manic."

I nod. That's two people corroborating the same thing. But Pierce did say that Evan had his stressful moments. Could those be times when he was on drugs?

"So you probably doubt the whole xanax thing?" I say.

"Dude." Pierce puts his coffee cup down, the ice cubes clattering against each other. "There's no way he could've memorized all his lines and been as convincing as he was if he was on anything. It's impossible."

I want to ask why he's so sure that it's impossible, but I don't want to push Pierce too far. He might think I'm insinuating that he might be taking something, which I would be.

"Well, anyway. Back to the theater group, I was actually thinking about joining the tech crew. What sorts of roles are available there?"

"Well, there's lighting and sound, makeup, hair, costumes — though those are typically coordinated by Mrs. Hanisham. Then there's the set design and setup."

"How many people are on the tech crew?"

"There used to be three, but we only have two kids since Drake left."

"How advanced does someone need to be with, well, tech, to join?"

Pierce laughs. "I mean, it's not really that necessary. Sound people need to have more knowledge, as do lighting people. Everyone else can be lay people when it comes to technology."

"Who currently does sound and lighting?"

"The school had to hire someone to do it since Drake left."

So he is good with technology, maybe even good enough to hack into things... like a dating app.

"How was Drake when it came to drama club? He was always super quiet in my classes."

"Honestly, don't tell anyone I said this, but he had a very bad attitude. He was rude to almost everyone, and really, I think he only joined because the school thought it'd help him be more of a team player, and technology was something he was good at."

"Did you talk with him sometimes?"

"I tried to engage him in conversation, but he just gave clipped answers and was usually on his phone."

My brow creases. "So if you weren't really friends with Drake, how did he know that Evan had the dating app?"

"He was just around us all the time. He probably overheard us talking about it."

I nod, downing the last drops of my coffee.

"How was your coffee?" Pierce asks.

"As good as caffeinated coffee. Yours?"

"I order this almost every time. I guess I'm a creature of habit." Pierce swirls the remaining half of his drink around before taking another sip.

I should've ordered a large drink, like Pierce. The toasted marshmallow ended far too quickly. But I try to save money where I can, and buying a small coffee seems like a worthwhile sacrifice to save a few dollars.

"So, you still want to join drama club?" Pierce asks.

"I'll think about it," I say as I stand to throw my cup away.

There's a lot of new information to consider.