He nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Then why should someone else have the honor of handing out the Almanacs?”
My heart rate sped up. This was a dig against Daniel. It was an age-old Ames tradition that the president giftedeach and every yearbook to his schoolmates. Three hundred copies.
Manik gave Tag a questioning look. “Why did you choose me to help?”
“Because I don’t want you to worry when they go missing,” Tag replied. “You did so much work, so I want you to know they’re safe.” He paused. “And I trust you to keep a secret.”
We’re all linked to Daniel, I suddenly realized. Tag had said we each brought something special to the metaphorical “table,” but everyone also had some link to Daniel.
I looked around our circle. Tag had truly assembled a motivated crew. Manik was our unsung Almanac editor. Alex Nguyen had shockingly lost last year’s election to Daniel and was still peeved. Zoe Wright considered him about as interesting as a leaf of lettuce. And Maya—Maya Rivera was his fraternal twin!
“Come on, Manik,” she said now. “It’s been a while since my brother’s been humbled.”
But what am I doing here?I wondered. Daniel could be pretty pompous, but I didn’t really have anything against him. Everyone else had a vendetta while I was his prom date.
The jingle of my mom’s keys swiftly reminded me.
“Okay,” Manik finally agreed. “Let’s do it.”
“Hell, yeah,” Zoe said, and then Tag’s eyes met mine. It wasn’t until I nodded that his tensed shoulders relaxed.
“Right,” he resumed. “Before we head out…” He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a silver flask. “A salute.”
“Sweet.” Alex took the flask first, unwound its cap, and took a pull. Everyone jumped backward when liquid came spewing out of his mouth. “Whatisthis?” he asked Tag. “Diet…” He choked. “Coke?”
“Excellent deduction skills, Alexander,” Tag said as Zoe grumbled. She liked soda about as much as I liked coffee. “I think it’s best if we kept our wits about us, don’t you?”
Alex rolled his eyes and passed the flask to Manik, who gulped before giving it to Zoe. Maya, still looking ill, smiled and raised the flask in solidarity instead of drinking. I took a sip of Tag’s favorite drink and then handed it back to him. Our fingertips brushed.Did he feel that?I wondered, sparks flickering through my veins.
“Cheers, fools,” he said and drained the flask before stowing it back in his backpack. “Now it’s time to take the stage.”
The six of us silently said farewell to King’s Court, creeping across the cobblestones and making our way back to Ames’s main paved road. “Stay out of the light beams,” Tag cautioned, so we zigzagged around the streetlamps’ dangerous pools of light. With the yearbook office in the student center, Hubbard Hall was our first stop.
“Crap, someone’s at their window,” Zoe whispered as we passed the sophomore girls’ dorm, and I stopped to see myfriend was right. A girl sat on her window seat; we had a clear view of her, which meant she had a clear view ofus.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tag whispered back. “She’s holding up her phone, see?” He pointed. “FaceTiming.”
Zoe released a breath, but I sucked one in…because I could hear the jester hat’s jingling bells in Tag’s backpack. They weren’t loud per se, but the sound was consistent and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Quickly, I sidled next to him. “Why do you still have the hat?” I asked in a low voice that only Alex could hear. “Your email said you didn’t want noise.”
Alex snorted. “Iknewyour emails would get personal.”
Tag ignored him. “We need it for one more thing,” he said through gritted teeth. The hat was bothering him too. “If I could stop the chiming, I would.”
“Okay,” I said, but instead of falling back in line, I stayed next to him and Alex, who patted my shoulder. That was one of the things I loved most about Alex Nguyen: He put you at ease. He calmed you. Tag always said that too. “If Alex isn’t nervous, then I tell myself I have no reason to be either,” he once said, then added, “And I feel safest with you, Hopscotch.”
Hopscotch, I recalled like a distant dream. “What kind of celebration dance is that?” Tag had asked during a sophomore whiffle ball game in the Circle. I’d scored a home run for our team and been a little smug about it, bouncing up and down on my feet. “It looks like you’re playing an invisible game of hop—”
“Don’t!” I’d read his beautiful mind. “Don’t even think about it!”
But he smirked, as if to say,Too late.
It hadn’t taken me long to warm to the nickname. I was Lily to everyone but Hopscotch to him. Every day, all day, always. He’d only started calling me by my name again when Blair and the other girls had started swooping in like vultures.Don’t let him pull away, I told myself, but it soon grew harder and harder to hang on to him.
My heart tumbled even now as our band successfully reached the front entrance of Hubbard Hall. Its columns looked especially intimidating, glowing pearly white from the moonlight and towering above us. I held my breath until someone gently nudged me. Tag.
It was go time.
