Thanks, doc, Tag texted before putting his phone back in his pocket. Neither of us spoke. We now walked in silence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t read the clue,” I eventually said. “I wish I did. I’m now curious why the Jester picked Admissions.”
Tag didn’t respond.
Please don’t ask why I didn’t read it, I thought, knowing he might. It was a valid question, after all. But I didn’t want to answer it; I didn’t want to explain that I was upset about Blair being his prom date.
“I believe the Jester has the clues memorized,” Tag said after a few beats. “He’s not only read them a hundred times but also thought it would be advantageous to memorize them.” He gave me a smug look. “It appears he was correct.”
“Only if he proves it,” I prompted when he didn’t say anything more.
Tag smirked, then began jumping up and down and waving his arms in the air as he jokingly announced:
Mr. President! Mr. President!
To an emergency cabinet meeting you are sent!
Its agenda contains quite the hook:
WHAT HAPPENED TO AMES’S BELOVED YEARBOOK?
I quietly applauded his performance. “Not bad,” I told him, giggling. “Not bad at all.”
Admissions was not only the headquarters for prospective Ames students but also for all the school VIPs (as my mother called them). Dean DeLuca’s office was on the second floor while Headmaster Bickford had the third all to herself. Daniel and the rest of student council also held their weekly meetings there, part of which were dedicated to pushing Ames to prospective parents in the waiting room before getting down to business in a first-floor conference room. According to Secretary Pravika, they lasted forever. The number of minutes she’d recorded on her laptop was mind-boggling.
“It’s Alex’s favorite clue,” Tag said as he looped his arm through mine again.
Behind us, Puck hissed.
“But apparently not Puck’s,” I commented before glancing back to see if the stray had finally run off. Sure enough, I caught him scampering across Madame Hoffman’s front lawn, the movement clear as day.
Because there was a light in the darkness. Not two car headlights but a single, slightly bouncing beam. It could’ve been a flashlight, but my money was on a headlamp like the one I’d worn back at the ropes course.
“Tag,” I murmured. “Someone’s coming.”
“I know,” he murmured back. “I hear feet pounding the pavement.”
And heavy breathing, I thought as the runner called out, “Hey!”
Tag and I stopped in our tracks to see Anthony DeLuca slow in front of us. “Hey, Ant,” Tag said casually as I half squeaked and skipped straight to, “I didn’t know you ran at night.”
Anthony fist bumped Tag. “Yeah, I run at night,” he told me. “Or in the early mornings.” He shrugged. “I accidentally fell asleep at 7:00 last night, so 4:30 is now morning to me.”
4:30?I thought, resisting the urge to double-check my phone.It’s already 4:30?
We had only two hours before sunrise.
“Anyway…” Anthony said, slyness seeping into his voice. “How’d it go?”
Three heavy heartbeats passed between us.
“Excuse me?” Tag feigned confusion since my tongue had gone completely slack in my mouth. “How’dwhatgo?”
“Oh, please.” Anthony stretched his arms over his head. “You know.”
Did we? Because unless someone had swallowed truth serum, how could Anthony know about the prank? He was only a junior. The fact that Tag and I were together in the faculty neighborhood so late didn’t exactly help the cause, but…
But nothing, I realized, relief washing over me. Anthony didn’t know anything about the Jester and his plans; he was joking about something else.
