I sent up a thanksgiving to the patron saint of little gay boys who sneak around (which is pretty much every little gay boy), and when my heart crawled down out of my throat, I went after them.
Ahead of me, they turned down another hallway.This time, though, I didn’t need to worry about sneaking, because almost as soon as they rounded the corner, they began to speak.Their voices were too low for me to make out the words, but let’s put it this way: their tones werenotfriendly.Someone answered—a man—and his tone shifted from confused to angry.I picked up my pace.Whatever was happening, it was escalating quickly, and Fox and Indira were going to need my help.(My job was to call Keme and tell him to come protect us.)
But when I rounded the corner, I came to a halt.
Remember how Keme’s eyes got wide when he saw me?
Well, I think mine just about fell out of my head.
Fox had a man pressed up against a drinking fountain.The man wore a blue work shirt and trousers, and to judge by the mop and bucket, he was one of the custodians.He must have clocked in at six feet, and he was probably twice Fox’s weight; in objective terms, he towered over them.But somehow, Fox seemed to have the upper hand.They had their little switchblade comb pressed under the man’s scruffy jowls, and the man was leaning back, trying to get away but unable to because of the drinking fountain.
“I do not like being threatened, Raymond,” Fox was saying, “and this is not high school anymore.We know what you’ve been doing, and we have proof.So, either you confess to the administration, or we’ll tell them everything we know.”
Just one guy’s humble opinion, but it wasn’t going to work.They should have told him,It’ll go easier on you if you confess, because then the bad guy has an incentive—
“I just gave him the keys,” Raymond Minor said.“I don’t have anything else to do with it.He said I had to, or he’d tell Mr.Gates.”
Fox and Indira exchanged a glance.
“What are you talking about?”Indira asked.
“The lockers,” Raymond said.“Mr.Dunkle, he said I had to give him the keys, or he’d tell them about the accident.”
With a faint note of bewilderment, Fox said, “Mr.Dunkle?”
Yes, I thought.Of course.It all made sense.Because Mr.Dunkle was Keme’s evil math teacher.
4
Raymond gave directions to Mr.Dunkle’s classroom, and Indira and Fox charged ahead.
I slunk along after them, my mind racing.
Of course it was Dunkle.I’d suspected him all along.
Well,kind of.
I mean, I definitely hadn’t liked him.
And while, no, I hadn’texactlyformulated the hypothesis that Mr.Dunkle might be the one stealing Keme’s lunch (not in so many words, at least), I’d suspected…something.I’d had a bad feeling about him for sure.And that meant I’d basically been right all along.
As we got closer to Mr.Dunkle’s classroom, my heart started to beat a little faster.This was going to be it: the final confrontation.Indira and Fox had done a surprisingly good job of this whole sleuthing thing so far.But they were amateurs.They didn’t have the breadth and depth of my experience when it came to confronting crazed killers—or, for that matter, evil math teachers.This was going to be my moment.I’d let them get things started, but once things got serious, I’d step in and—
It's not like youalwayshave to have a plan.Sometimes, you can just wing it.
This must have been Mr.Dunkle’s prep period because his door was open and he didn’t have any students in his classroom.Indira and Fox strode inside, and I took up a spot by the door to listen.
“May I help you—” came Mr.Dunkle’s familiar, reedy voice.
That was the exact moment someone grabbed my arm and I screamed.
It was only a little scream.A tiny one.In my throat, mostly.
Keme gave me a scouring gaze that was two parts disgust and one part total bafflement.But then he started to pull me away from the classroom, whispering, “Dash, please, you have to go!”
“No,” I whispered back as I pried his fingers off (or tried to—he was freakishly strong).“We finally figured out who was stealing your lunch—” Thewein that sentence might have been a tad generous, but I felt like I’d basically figured it out myself.Through deductive reasoning.Like Sherlock Holmes.“—and now we’re going to make sure it stops—”
Several things happened in quick succession.
