“What’s the offer?” I say.
“We’ll forgive what you’ve done if you accept a position in the Chaos Club. There’s only a few months left in the year, but it would be a good setup for next year. We need someone to carry the torch for us, and you’ve been chosen.”
There’s a pause, and then the guy says through the distorter, “We’re told a midyear invitation like this has never happened before. You should feel honored.”
I have a hard time finding words. Of all the scenarios I played out in my head before coming here, I never imagined this one. Me, in the Chaos Club?
“Who told you to do this?” I ask.
The guy says, “What do you mean who?”
“You said you were told this has never happened before. Who’s in charge? Is there some sort of, I don’t know, alumni panel or something?”
This time the pause is longer than I’m comfortable with. I imagine the two trying to figure out how to respond to the gotcha I’ve just nailed them with.
The girl finally says, “We can fill you in on the specifics later. But, Max, this is your chance to be a part of something special. I mean really special. We’re planning something everyone in the town will witness live. Nothing’s even been done like this before—”
“That’s enough,” the guy says.
I decide to push my edge.
“How did you find out about me?”
“We got an anonymous email with the picture attached.”
“Anonymous?”
“Completely.”
“Why would someone do that?”
No answer.
“We don’t have all night,” the guy says. “What’s your answer?”
“What happens if I say no?”
“You don’t want to do that.”
“But what happens?”
“There will be ramifications.”
The girl is on the distorter again. “Join us and we’ll tell you everything. Isn’t that what you want?”
In a way, yes.
Why did they choose us for the water tower prank?
How do they pull off their pranks unnoticed?
Who’s their leader?
What’s their next prank?
With just a quick yes, I can know the answer to all this and more.
Plus, becoming a member of the Chaos Club is as close to a professional heist crew as I’m likely to get.
It’s just too great an offer to turn down.
But.
“Go screw yourselves,” I say.
“You’re not serious?” the guy says.
“I already have a crew, and we’re taking you assholes down. You’ll regret ever messing with us.”
“We told you—”
“Max,” the girl says, this time without the distorter. “You need to reconsider.”
“Or you’ll give Stranko the picture?”
“Worse.”
Her voice is soft and serious. I could still change my mind, I guess. A big part of me still wants answers. But no. They’re just trying to scare me, to blackmail me into joining them, like they blackmailed me into coming here. So hell no.
“I’m out.”
The girl sighs, and both of them start moving past me for the door.
“You started this, remember that,” the guy says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The doors opens, and I say, “Aren’t you going to untie me?”
“The ropes aren’t too tight,” the guys says. “You’ll figure it out.”
“But how will I get home?”
Then the girl whispers in my ear, “Good luck, Max.”
I don’t recognize the voice. Or maybe I do. When the door closes, I’m alone, and suddenly all my macho bullshit is gone. I jerk at the ropes trying to free my hands and find that the guy was right. The ropes are loose but not that loose.
My feet aren’t tied, so I stand up but quickly bang into a table or desk or something. I fall back into the seat and work the ropes, my breathing coming faster. It takes a good minute to get one hand out. After that, the other’s out in seconds. My hands tear the mask off my head, and I use my sleeve to wipe the sweat off my face. It’s only then that I open my eyes.
Oh no.
I’m in the school.
In Stranko’s office.
Which has been painted neon pink.
The entire office—the walls, his desk, the ceiling, the chair I’m sitting on, even the state lacrosse trophy—all of it’s neon pink.
I barely have time to process everything when someone’s putting a key in the door, and suddenly I’ve broken the most important heist rule of all—I got caught.
Chapter 18
Of course Stranko has me arrested.
Handcuffs, police car, fingerprints, mugshot…all of it.