“I can’t begin to tell you how much I have to do,” Cam said.
Burroughs rolled his eyes. “Kids these days think they have it so hard. You wouldn’t know real work if it bit you. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, the intercom is on, so the office will hear everything that happens in this room. Understand?”
From his desk, Cam winked at Lilith. She turned to face the wall. They were not on winking terms.
As soon as the door closed behind Burroughs, Cam walked to the teacher’s desk, switched off the intercom, then sidled over to the chair in front of Lilith. He sat down and put his feet up on her desk, nudging her fingers with his boots.
She shoved his feet away. “I have a test to take,” she said. “Excuse me.”
“And I have a better idea. Where’s your guitar?”
“How did you manage to get a detention on your first day of school? Going for a new record?” she asked, so that she wouldn’t say what she was really thinking, which was, You’re the first new kid I can remember. Where are you from? Where do you shop? What’s the rest of the world like?
“Don’t worry about that,” Cam said. “Now, about your guitar. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Weird thing to say to a girl sitting in detention for eternity.”
“This is your notion of eternity?” Cam looked around, his green eyes pausing on the kitten poster. “Wouldn’t be my first choice,” he finally said. “Besides, you don’t notice forever when you’re having fun. Time only exists in sports and sorrow.”
Cam stared at her until a shiver ran across her skin. Lilith felt her face flush; she couldn’t tell whether she was embarrassed or angry. She realized what he was doing, trying to soften her by talking about music. Did he think she was so easy to play? She felt another inexplicable surge of fury. She hated this boy.
He pulled a black object the size of a single-serving cereal box from his bag and placed it on Lilith’s desk.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Cam shook his head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask that. It’s a miniature guitar amp.”
She nodded, like of course. “I’ve just never seen one so, um…”
“Square?” Cam prompted. “All we need is a guitar to plug it into.”
“Burroughs will be back in fifteen minutes,” Lilith said, glancing at the clock. “Twelve. I don’t know how detention works where you come from, but around here, you don’t get to play guitar.”
Cam was the new kid, yet he strode in here like he owned the place. Lilith was the one who’d been stuck here all her life, who knew how things worked and how crappy this school was, so Cam could just back off.
“Twelve minutes, huh?” He threw the mini amp back into his bag, stood up, and held out his hand. “We’d better hurry.”
“I’m not going with you—” Lilith protested as she let him drag her out the door. Then they were in the hallway, where it was quiet, so she shut up. She looked down at his hand in hers for a second before jerking away.
“See how easy that was?” Cam asked.
“Don’t touch me ever again.”
The words seemed to punch Cam in the gut. He frowned, then said, “Follow me.”
Lilith knew she should go back to detention, but she liked the idea of a little mischief—even if she didn’t like her partner in crime.
Grumbling, she followed Cam, keeping close to the wall, as if she could blend in with the student-made posters supporting Trumbull’s terrible basketball team. Cam pulled a Sharpie from his bag and added the letters HIT to the end of a message that stated GO BULLS!
Lilith was surprised.
“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “Once you go bullshit, you never go back.”
On the second floor, they came to a door marked BAND ROOM. For someone who had only been here a day, Cam sure seemed to know his way around. He reached for the knob.
“What if someone’s in there?” Lilith asked.
“Band meets first period. I checked.”
Someone was in there. Jean Rah was a half-French, half-Korean boy who, like Lilith, was a social pariah. They should have been friends: like her, he was obsessed with music, he was mean, he was weird. But they weren’t friends. Lilith wished Jean Rah would permanently evaporate, and she could see in his eyes that he wished the same about her.
Jean looked up from a drum kit, where he was tuning the snare. He could play every instrument there was. “Get out,” he said. “Or I’ll page Mr. Mobley.”
Cam grinned. Lilith could tell Cam instantly liked this scowling kid with his Buddy Holly glasses, which made her hate them both even more.
“Do you guys know each other?” Cam asked.
“I make it a point not to know him,” Lilith said.
“I’m unknowable,” Jean said, “to idiots like you.”
“Talk crap and get the crap beaten out of you,” Lilith said, glad to have a target for her anger. Her body tensed, and the next thing she knew she was lunging at Jean—