There’s no time for sarcasm. We need to make sure our stakeout goes perfectly on Sunday, and I want to update Devon. The janitor said there wasn’t a power outage but that there have been a lot of “weird electrical issues” throughout the school of late, which is why they’re having the maintenance day. It’s not a coincidence, that much I know.
This time next week, I’ll be able to focus on Yale and convince Headmaster Ward to restore my position as Head Prefect. This time next week, I’ll be getting ready for the Senior Snowflake Charity Ball. At Niveus, the Snowflake Ball is the most important event of the year. And it’s not just Niveus students; the headmaster invites the biggest donors and Niveus alumni to watch as the Snowflake Kingand Queen are crowned—and marked as the students that everyone needs to know as they graduate.
Last year’s Snowflake Queen got into Harvard, with one alum’s very powerful recommendation. That crown could be the thing that gets me a guaranteed spot at Yale.
Why aren’t you in detention?
I got sick.—D
Sure he did.
Well when you’re “better,” we need to visit Morgan Library.
Okay.—D
Boys are infuriating.
The Sunday plan is not perfect yet. I’m still not sure whether coming in at nine in the evening is too early, nine thirty is too close to whentheymight arrive, or ten o’clock is too late. I’ll pay the janitor, but then what—we roam around the school like people with no scheming bones in their bodies? We need an agreed place to hide that is close enough for us to enter the library soundlessly. We need an easy getaway. And I want proof—visual proof—of whoever sits at that computer. I can do most of it on my own, but I need to know that Richards isn’t going to mess up. Or lie about his health again.
I jump as another text buzzes.
By the way, I think Aces followed me.—D
What do you mean?
Someone in a mask followed me home, I think. They were taking pictures.—D
Are they still following you?
No, I don’t think so. I tried chasing them but they got away.—D
That makes me feel uneasy. If they are following us… then all the more reason we need a solid plan for Sunday.
He better be in tomorrow –
“Hey…,” someone whispers. I look up to see Belle in the doorway, blond curls packed up in a high ponytail and wearing her bright-blue lacrosse uniform. My eyes move down to her bare legs, then away again as I turn, bend over, dip the toothbrush in the bucket filled with soapy water next to me, and proceed to scrub at the nonexistent dirt on a random table.
“Hi,” I say.
Scrub. Scrub.
“Finished practice?” I ask.
“No, just on my way there, actually… Wanted to see if you were here, say hey, maybe avoid Coach and her screaming for a few moments,” she says.
I stop scrubbing, turning to face Belle and her apparently really long legs.
“Glad I can be your break from that.” I watch the door carefully. “If Ward comes in, though, I’m going to tell him you were bothering me,” I say with a smile.
She laughs. “You’d sell me out?”
I shrug. “Maybe, maybe not, depends on how I’m feeling.”
I was sure that saying no to Belle’sThe Notebookinvite would dampen our new friendship, but she’s here, in front of me, making me all flustered and nervous. It’s almost as if I like her or something, in amore than friendsway. But that’s absurd.
Isn’t it?
“And how are you feeling?” she asks, head tilted to the side.
