Tag and I texted for a while, joking about Daniel’s current location—Still trying to hop the telescope balcony’s gate!—but Alex confiscated his phone around 1:30.Taggart has run out of screen time, the last text read.Good night.
“Lily, go to sleep,” my mom mumbled after I slid out of bed and accidentally stepped on a squeaky floorboard. It was 2:45.
“I’m getting a snack,” I whispered.
A beat passed before she flipped on her lamp. “What kind of snack?”
I brought the whole bowl of chocolate pudding back upstairs. “Has he come to commit his federal crime yet?” my mom asked through a big spoonful.
“Federal crime?”
She gave me a look. “It’s illegal to read other people’s mail.”
I shook my head and together we finished off the pudding. Josh would be horrified when he saw the empty bowl in the sink tomorrow.
“Okay, this is pointless,” my mom said an hour after we’d gotten back under the covers. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do thisright.”
Two minutes later, we were in official stakeout mode at her window. I’d grabbed both cushions from her love seat for us to sit on, and she’d lowered her blinds just enough so that Daniel wouldn’t spot us spying on him. My mom patted me on the back for having the good sense to leave the outdoor lights on, and while we waited, I told her about Daniel refusing to help Tag last spring and also blaming me for nearly ruining his reputation. “He thinks he dodged a bullet,” I said. “Because if we’d been dating, my oh-so-scandalous lifestyle wouldn’t reflect well on him—him!”
My mom snorted. “He’s all yours, Harvard.”
The rain stopped at 3:30.
“Do you think he got caught?” I rubbed my eyes. “Are Gabe and Mr. Harvey—”
“Look!” She snatched my arm, and I gasped when I saw Daniel Riverafinallyapproaching our cottage. The wet pavement glistened, but he did not. The student council president was a walking puddle, his hair plastered to his forehead and clothes absolutely drenched by the storm. “I think he’s carrying at least ten extra pounds,” my mom observed as we watched him drip-drop his way to our mailbox.
“At least,” I agreed. Daniel’s steps were slow, stilted, and not particularly sneaky. It was safe to say he was exhausted from battling the rain and oceans winds all night.
Oh, and his adventure might’ve been a little tiresome too.
I watched him unlatch the mailbox and turn on his phone flashlight once the next clue did not immediately present itself. My pulse pitched excitedly when he extracted the envelope. “Mr. President! Mr. President!” I narrated. “To an emergency cabinet meeting you are sent!”
“Its agenda contains quite the hook.” My mom matched my theatricality. “What happened to Ames’s beloved yearbook?”
I smirked. How was he going to take this?
The answer was “not well.”
We giggled like little girls when Daniel crumpled up the clue and threw it across the lawn before rethinking such a strategy. “I was worried that he would show everyone the clues,” I whispered as Daniel squelched over the wet grass. “But I don’tthink he will. The Jester has not only made the school laugh, but he has also made a laugh of itspresident.” My lips twisted into a smile. “Daniel won’t—”
“Meow.”
“Oh my god,” I breathed. “Puck’s out there.”
Our cat was circling Daniel, his meowing getting louder and louder with each suspicious step. “No, no, go away,” Daniel hissed. “Get the hell out of here!”
My mom dashed over to her bedroom’s overhead light switch. We exchanged evil grins. “Ready?” she asked.
I saluted her. “Set.”
“Go!” we exclaimed, and once she flicked the switch, her bright lights streamed through her blinds and scared the shit out of Daniel. Was somebody awake?!
You better run, Rivera, I thought while he sprinted up the street.You have that final clue to find…
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