“Is that caulking?” Adleta asks.
“Yeah,” says Malone. “I ran strips around the edge of the case and where the doors normally open. I’m not sure how secure it is though. If it gives out—”
“We’ll have a goldfish holocaust,” Wheeler finishes.
“Why didn’t you take the art out first?” I ask. “Didn’t you have a piece in there?”
“Two, actually,” Malone says, “but to create, you must destroy.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Ellie says, and she and Malone start laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Adleta asks.
“Just wait,” Malone says, then looks to the doorway.
Oh no.
It’s Libby. It only takes her three steps into the room before she’s shouting, “Oh my God!” and shoving her way to the display case. When she gets a closer look, she goes full-on hysterical, pounding at the glass so hard we’re all probably seconds away from a goldfish tidal wave. Luckily for all of us, Mrs. Roberts steps out from the crowd and gently guides Libby into the hall. I’m not sure if it’s to calm her down or protect the rest of us from a Libby rampage.
“Oh man,” Malone says. “Libby’s charcoal self-portrait for the Scholastics Competition was in there. That’s a shame. And she was sure to get a Gold Key for it too. Maybe even a scholarship.”
“Wow, bummer,” Ellie deadpans.
Then they both start giggling, trying—and failing—to control their volume.
Wheeler and Adleta join in too, but I don’t. I can’t. I won’t. Of course, like an idiot, I say, “Man, that has to suck if you’re Libby.”
Malone’s eyes darken. “Are you purposely trying to sound like an asshole or are you actually showing sympathy for Libby Heckman?”
“No, but—”
“Good, because I’d hate to think you feel sorry for her. That would mean you’ve forgotten what she put me through last year. And what she did at the pep rally last week. Girls commit suicide over things like that, Max. Maybe some girls you know have actually even considered it.”
“I just meant—”
“So you don’t get to try to make me feel bad about this, you got it? You wanted us to pull a prank in the name of the Chaos Club, and that’s what I did. If I chose Libby as my target, that’s my decision, not yours.”
“But—”
Malone drops off the chair and walks through the jam-packed students still in the room.
Wheeler gives me a yeeesh look.
Adleta’s not even looking at me.
And Ellie says, “I’d think you of all people would be a little more supportive.”
“I’m just saying maybe that may have been a little much. You saw Libby, right? And that’s the drawing she’s been working on for weeks. It’s completely ruined.”
“So what? Maybe try to see it from Kate’s point of view next time and not just your own. I have to get to my locker before class.”
“Smooth, dude,” Wheeler says.
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
? ? ?
For the rest of the day, I feel like shit, which is only compounded by Malone ignoring my apology texts. But am I wrong? Making a bunch of guys puke and destroying a girl’s art—how does it help us get back at the Chaos Club? What was business before is now personal, and I don’t like it. Or maybe I’m overreacting. Stranger things have happened. It’s really an ethics question, so I do the only thing I can think of: I stop by Watson’s room on the way out of the building.
“What can I do for you, Max?” Watson asks. He’s at his desk in the back of the room with his feet up, an Existential Dread Is My Copilot coffee cup resting on a pile of today’s pop quizzes.
“I have a philosophy question,” I say.
“Then you came to the right place. Fire away.”
“Is revenge ethical?”
Watson raises his eyebrows.
“Now that is an excellent question. Maybe it should be this week’s Big Questions of Existence topic.”
“I’d rather hear what you have to say on it.”
“Well, not to be evasive, but it doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is what you think. All questions of ethics are like that. The answer depends on what you believe in—your religion, if you have one; your upbringing; your environment. You have to set your own parameters for what’s acceptable. If you don’t, someone else will do it for you.”
“I should’ve known better than to come here looking for a straight answer.”
Watson laughs and says, “I’m not one to give answers. I’m more interested in giving you the tools to come up with the answers yourself.”
“And in this case?”
“That means thinking about what you believe in and why—the why is the important part—then making decisions based on that. It’s the only honest way to do things.”
“You’re like the illegitimate child of Yoda and Socrates,” I say.
“That might just be the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Watson says. “However, I will say that revenge and justice aren’t the same thing. Most people make the mistake of confusing the two.”