Nerves needled the back of my neck. “It’s the Jester’s prank,” I told Penny. “The Jester took the yearbooks.”
“Yes, Lily, I’m aware,” she replied. “President Rivera made that quite clear.”
“Then why are you asking us?” Tag said. “If you want to know if we saw anyone—”
“I am asking for the obvious reason,” Headmaster Bickford interrupted. “The Almanacs were seen in the office yesterday but not today, which means they disappeared sometime within the last twenty-four hours.” She looked from Tag to me. “And the only other event of significance within that time frame is your tryst. I wondered if they could be one and the same.”
She cleared her throat. “Because to be honest, Taggart, while Mr. Nguyen certainly has an imagination and more than enough enthusiasm, I always thoughtyouwould make the better Jester.”
My heart lurched, but Tag kept a cool face. “Alex isn’t the Jester, Headmaster.”
“I know,” she said as I heard the squeak of the back door. My mom was home. “Though he is considered a likely candidate, so I will be speaking with him tomorrow.” She flicked an invisible piece of fluff off her jacket. “Thank you both for your candor.” My mom stepped into the room with a bottle of chilled white wine. No matter what the situation was, she knew how to defuse it. Headmaster Bickford smiled gratefully, then advised Tag to get some rest. “You look very tired, dear.”
In her heart of hearts, she did have a soft spot for him.
TWENTY-FOUR
The Almanac intrigue was stronger than ever on Saturday. Whispers about the yearbooks’ hiding place filled the hallways, and everyone’s eyes met during mandatory morning class, trying to decipher whether the Jester was in the room. Alex was officially out of the running, since the entirety of Ames had woken up to an email from him:
From: [email protected]
Subject: Please stop punching me
Ladies and gentlemen!
While I am extremely flattered that you think me worthy of wearing the jingling jokester’s cap, I am NOT the Jester. I know it’s a nearly impossible realization to face, but you all must look deeply inside yourselves and come to terms with the truth.
Repeat after me: Alex Nguyen did not touch the Almanacs!
I will not be taking any questions, concerns, arm punches, or fist bumps at this time. Please respect my privacy.
Cheers,
Alex
Zoe and I’d agreed that he was good—almosttoogood.Alex Nguyen did not touch the Almanacs.Because indeed, he hadn’t laid a hand on the yearbooks; instead of helping us move the boxes on Thursday night, he’d held back Maya’s hair while she hurled in the bathroom.
Classes concluded at lunchtime, and by that afternoon, Blair Greenberg was the newest nominee. Underclassmen twittered like birds around her Adirondack chair, and surprisingly she wasn’t loving it. Pravika, Zoe, Maya, and I were halfway across the Circle, sunning ourselves on beach towels, but we simultaneously sat up when we heard her eruption. “No!” she shouted. “I am not the Jester, so back the hell off!”
“Someone’s salty,” Zoe commented after Blair burst from her chair, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and then stormed off to her dorm. Zoe smiled teasingly at me.
“Well, there’s my brother,” Maya said, “on a mission to intercept her.”
She pointed to Daniel, who was all but sprinting towardBlair. He was the only one who hadn’t welcomed the weekend, still wearing his Ames blazer, a striped tie, and khakis. My guess was he was sweating bullets under his jacket.
And not just because it was almost eighty degrees.
“Daniel, don’t!” Blair barked at him. “Don’t you dare!”
“But—” Daniel started, although before he could continue, Blair swerved around him and even flashed him the finger in her wake.
Pravika sucked in a breath. “Okay, she’sdefinitelynot the Jester.”
“Nope,” Zoe said. “Just a mad woman.”
I bit my pinkie nail.
