“Where’s Mr. Stewart?”
He frowned at me and pocketed the key. “He’s at an in-service.”
Like I’d know what that was. “When will he be back?” I asked, but already knew the answer.
“Tomorrow.”
Of course.
I kicked the lockers. The substitute jumped. “Hey,” he said, faintly.
I turned and pressed my back against the cool metal. Tipped my head back and closed my eyes. Forced my breathing to slow.
The substitute edged away.
So that was it. I’d go to lunch, pull Michael aside, then quit. Get Dwight to remove the drugs. Glue the locks. Warn Clay and keep an eye on our backs until late enough in the day to get Janie, get the money, and run.
It was the best I could do.
I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Large tiles with zigzag scar patterns hung in a grid. My eyes tracked them, circled the gray bubble of a security camera cover. Tracked farther down the hall. Circled another bubble.
Then I had it.
Dwight may have backed me into a corner, but he’d left a weapon there. And now I knew it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Outside at the lunch tables, Michael listened to Beast tell a story. Indulgence on his face like a mask of formerly withheld parental approval. Beast was flushed, happiness spreading color up his neck.
Dwight rolled his shoulders as I walked up.
“I need to talk,” I said to Michael.
Beast froze, midsentence. Disappointment staining his face.
Michael stood to walk with me. I turned to Dwight. “You should hear this, too.”
Dwight’s expression changed as his brain caught up with the implications. His eyes daggered threats.
The three of us walked out, away from the building, stopping on the other side of a short stand of rangy pines.
“Dwight planted drugs in my locker. He jumped me in the bathroom this morning so I’d bruise him up. He says if I don’t leave the group, he’ll tell the principal I jumped him and about the drugs.”
Michael’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He turned on Dwight.
Dwight shook his head. “No. That’s not what happened. He did jump me.” He opened a hand at Michael. “He won’t be happy until he’s taken my place completely.”
Michael knocked Dwight’s hand aside. “Your place isn’t big enough to hold him.”
Dwight drew back as if he’d been slapped. He jabbed a finger at me. “You’ve just signed your arrest warrant. You think I’ll stop now?”
“Something you said this morning stuck with me. Funny how something can be so obvious, you don’t think of it, or even notice,” I said.
Dwight shook his head.
“Go ahead and report me, Dwight. You just knew I’d go to my locker, right? Well, I haven’t. Those security cameras you talked about? Yeah, they got us going into the bathroom. Bet they also got you going into my locker.”
Dwight’s jaw worked. A muscle flexed in his cheek.
Michael slapped my hand, then clasped it. He turned on Dwight. “This is what historians would call a rout. Right, Ice?”
Fierce joy surged into my veins, like power. Raw, bloody, and blazing hellfire. “I’m not going tonight if he is,” I said to Michael. “We can’t trust him.”
My fists throbbed.
“Ice, he’s not going to be anywhere near me.” Michael turned sharp eyes on Dwight. “Don’t speak to me. Don’t come near me or any of the others. You’re out.”
We left him there. Watching as we walked back to the tables—and the group he was no longer a part of.
The drugs were still in my locker. As long as I didn’t go there, I’d be fine.
And if Dwight came after me or Clay, I could handle it.
As lunch ended, Michael gestured for us to stay as other groups of kids jostled their way inside. Michael turned and stared pointedly at Dwight, still lingering in the background.
Dwight flinched like acid had been thrown in his face, but he hunched into himself and went inside.
“Dwight’s out,” Michael told the small group that remained huddled around the picnic table. “Ice, I’ll pick you up at the old gym at eleven. The rest of you talk to Cyndra—you’ll all be at my house by midnight. Where we’ll wait until the guard calls. Questions?”
T-Man shook his head with the certainty of a fighter cracking his knuckles. Beast’s eyes were wide-round like all he had were questions, but he didn’t know where to begin.
“Good,” Michael said. We filed inside as the tardy bell toned.
After school Clay had an academic club meeting, so I went home and got Janie. We grabbed dinner at the closest burger joint, and I walked her to Clay’s as the sky got dark.
At the door, she squeezed my hand. “Stay safe. This is it, right?”
“Yeah. Be thinking about where you want that bus to take us.” Trying not to think of Cyndra, of her smile, holding her, the soft pressure of her body against mine.
Janie squeezed me in a hug. “Florida?” Her voice lifted at the end like a balloon bobbing on a string.
She let me go before I could get uncomfortable.
It made me happy, though, in between the jagged pieces. Picturing Janie there. Sunshine and oranges and one of those stupid hats that the tourists all wear. Hell, maybe she’d relax enough to grow out her nails instead of chewing on them all the time.
“Okay,” I said. “I haven’t said anything to Clay yet.”
She nodded. “I’ll let you tell him. When you’re ready.”
I watched until she was inside, then I walked back to school. Once there, I slipped into the old gym and changed into a pair of black jeans, a black T-shirt, and the hoodie. I lay down and threw an arm over my eyes.
? ? ?
Banging on the gym door woke me. I went out to Michael’s car. He drove silently, weaving past the gatehouse and up into the hills. We parked and then walked through his empty house. Michael didn’t call out to see if his mom or dad were home, didn’t creep in because it was so late and we might wake someone. Because he already knew they weren’t there.