“Hasn’t anyone else seen Amadeus?” Jams wondered aloud.
“Nope,” Hunter said. “I’ll add it to the list of movies that we have to watch when we get home.”
“Antonio Salieri was an eighteenth-century composer,” Leigh continued, theatrically loud. “And yet he is best remembered for his rivalry with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. There’s a whole section about it on his Wikipedia page. But unless you’re like Jams and just have a passion for the Tony Award–winning play based on Mozart’s and Salieri’s lives, why the hell do any of us know this?”
“It’s a question in the Melee,” Simone said, warily looking at the camper on her team who had incorrectly answered the question to begin with.
“Yes!” Leigh said. “And isn’t that strange? Who would consider classical music to be on par with English lit and psychology and science? Shouldn’t we have, you know, a math section?”
For the first time, I let myself look at Brandon. His head had lifted at the mention of a math section, hesitantly interested. The skin under his eyes looked shadowy and unrested. I wondered if the stress of the Melee was keeping him up at night, staring at his ceiling and running through equations.
“According to an article the Eugene Register-Guard did about Camp Onward, there was a math section of the Melee until last year. And then it disappeared,” Leigh said, wiggling her fingers mysteriously in the air. “When Wendell Cheeseman took over as the camp director. Which is weird. Why would a history professor care whether or not we know who Antonio Salieri is?”
She looked around, waiting for more of a reaction, but was met with mostly confusion. Except for Kate, who had started shredding her napkin.
“Last week,” Leigh continued, undeterred by the silence, “someone with motive and means and a heart as cold as ice broke into every occupied dorm in the residence hall and stole all of the binders, most of the food, and some of my fanciest tampons.”
Meg put her head in hands. “This is how I get fired.”
“But who?” Leigh asked, waving a fist in the air. “Was it a camper who wanted to win at all costs? A counselor with a score to settle? An administrator with a filthy secret?”
Her hand froze in the air.
“The second one?” guessed Victor Onobanjo.
“All three!” Leigh cried. “Last night, a counselor and a camper were seen colluding in Mudders Meadow. Kate Brant and Faulkner.”
That elicited gasps. Kate’s hands flew to her mouth. “No!”
“Yes!” Leigh said triumphantly. She swung around to look at Faulkner, who was sitting, blank faced, with Team Four. “Faulkner, whose cocaptain was suddenly sent home from camp with no explanation. Faulkner, who happened to be put in charge of the classical music section of the binder. Faulkner, who has no first name!”
“Ben was sent home for abandoning his post,” Cornell said. “He was sleeping in Fort Farm.”
“With his girlfriend,” Hari added.
“But if you all knew that,” Leigh said, slightly miffed at being interrupted, “then why did Cheeseman show up and throw out two of the counselors days before the end of camp?”
“Can we go back to the part where Faulkner doesn’t have a first name?” asked Meuy, adjusting her glasses.
Peter the MIT counselor shook his head. “Everyone has a first name.”
“Yes, but Faulkner is a mononym. A single word to hide behind. But she was too clever by half. She had to sign her crime.” Leigh had started to pace toward the Team Four table. “Isn’t that right, Rowan Oak?”
Faulkner scowled at her in return. “It isn’t a crime to change my name. Rowan Oak was the name of William Faulkner’s estate. Which would you rather be called?”
Leigh tapped her chin, thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Maybe I’d want to be called by my full name. Rowan. Oak. Cheeseman.”
“Whoa,” I said.
“Took the word right out of my mouth,” Hari said, his jaw agape.
“But Rayevich is so exclusive that faculty members’ families don’t get special consideration for admission. They don’t even get a discount on tuition! So, Rowan Faulkner was accepted to Rayevich College two years ago on a full scholarship as a winner of the Tarrasch Melee,” Leigh said, her face wild. “And this year, a Kate Brant was also granted a position at camp. Of course, according to the Internet, Kate Brant of Coos County, Oregon, doesn’t exist.” Leigh narrowed her eyes at Kate. “But Katerina ‘Katie’ Cheeseman is well known as a piano prodigy. A homeschooled piano prodigy. And who would know more about classic music than someone who’s been studying it since the age of two?”
“Whoa!” Galen shouted.
“Damn,” Jams said.
“Ben and Trixie are going to be pissed they missed this,” Meg said to Brandon, who nodded numbly.
“Admit it, Katie Cheeseman,” Leigh said darkly. “You had your father and your sister break into the dorms and steal all of the binders. You weren’t keeping up. You had the lowest percent-correct on the team. You wanted Perla gone because she has the highest IQ on our team!”
“No,” Kate spat back, getting to her feet. “I wanted her gone because she snores and she’s mean!”
Perla looked affronted. “I do not snore!”
“Yes,” Meg groaned, “that’s what we should take issue with here.”
“Dr. Benita and Dr. Mendoza have already been informed as to the Cheeseman family’s deception,” Leigh said, dusting off her hands. “No Cheeseman will be allowed to remain in any part of the competition. Enjoy the rest of your breakfasts.” She threw her crooked grin all around the room. “Except for Rowan and Katie, who should probably get the fuck out.”
37
The dining hall emptied in stunned silence. I might not have believed Leigh’s speech myself, but as we all stepped out into the quad, Wendell Cheeseman was spotted carrying polka-dot luggage out of the residence hall and disappearing toward the east parking lot.
“Now who will ring the buzzer at the skirmish?” Perla asked.
“That’s your takeaway from this?” Galen asked. “We’re down a teammate! Your roommate!”
Perla shrugged. “She did have the lowest percent-correct on the team. She was really only good for the classical music section and, considering it was made for her, she wasn’t even that great at it. Should I mourn?”
I cleared my throat. “You guys are actually down two teammates.”
The group turned to face me. Possibly in shock. Possibly blinded by the sun.
“Beast Mode?” Hunter said softly.
“It’s a long story,” I said. “But my ride is on its way.”
Galen gaped at me. “But you’re so close to winning the Cheese … the counselors’ endowment! You just have to win one more event.”
“It’ll have to be someone else. Maybe someone that Faulkner didn’t help cheat.” I checked over my shoulder. The minutes were dwindling down to seconds. “Okay, quick hugs. No time to be sad. You guys need to go to your skirmish.”
I hugged down the line of Meg, Hunter, Jams, and Galen. Hari shook my hand. Leigh squeezed me extra hard.