Page 34

9

Friday morning, I wake tothe intoxicating aroma of Dad’s banana and blueberry French toast and a chirping notification. Yawning, I grab my phone. I unlock the screen and blink a few times at it.

Two Facebook friend requests: Free Williams and Ian J. Park.

I don’t hesitate to approve the request from Free just to have only one profile photo on the screen. There he is—his face peeking out from a pit of rainbow plastic balls like those at indoor family theme parks—scrunched eyes and enormous smile and hair everywhere.

Fact: I’m a master of self-control. I wait an entire twenty-two seconds—enough time to stretch, rub the drowsiness from my eyes, and have a stern conversation with my lower half about the eagerness it’s experiencing at the sight of Ian’s lips—before accepting the friend request.

What happens during my extra-long shower afterward is not a lack of will power. I’m simply scratching a very needy, annoying, satisfying itch. That’s all.

* * *

Chloe and Jayden are passingas I knock my locker shut with my shoulder. They’re a DreamWorks version of high school sweethearts—hand-in-hand, big heart eyes, glitter above their heads. Chloe’s wearing her jersey. Jayden’s in full cheerleader gear. That means one thing: Game Day.

They’re following a slow-build of hallway traffic, the usual morning horde of student zombies. But Jayden’s going the wrong way; our homeroom is at the opposite end of the hall.

“Is the pep rally starting early? Or are you two skipping homeroom for a little…” I waggle my eyebrows. “…extrastudy time?”

Grinning, Jayden flips me a middle finger.

Over her shoulder, Chloe says, “You haven’t heard?”

That the quarterback and superstar cheerleader are getting it on?Yeah, that’s not news. I don’t say that to Chloe, though. She scares me. “Heard what?”

“The Mad Tagger has struck again, my dude.” Jayden’s eyes are bright with excitement. “Tattooed the main gym’s doors. Savage! We’re going to check it out.”

“It’s serious business,” says Chloe. “Principal Moon is yelling about canceling the pep rally.”

“Total anarchy.”

Jayden’s obvious hyperbole aside, scrapping the pep rally would suck. I wouldn’t want to miss the extremely dope performance our marching band always gives. But I could live without the counterfeit school spirit. All the “we are family” unity Maplewood suddenly puts on as if half the school wasn’t at war and having meltdowns on social media last night.

“She’s talking about scratching homecoming too.” Chloe frowns.

“If the Mad Tagger doesn’t turn themselves in, we’re screwed.” Jayden shakes his head. “It’s so rank.”

I lean against my locker. Jayden and Chloe get lost in the tidal wave of crimson and steel, also known as red and gray, our school colors. School freaking spirit—go Marauders!I go the other way.

Since Rio didn’t meet me at our usual spot, I suspect she’s at the gym too. Rio and her Mad Tagger obsession is another thing I don’t comprehend.

“Hey!” Mr. Riley catches up to me in the sophomore hallway. I swear his wardrobe choices always scream “Look at me! I’m cool! I fit in!” Today he’s in a bright orange polo, wrinkled-just-enough khakis so he doesn’t appear like one of those adults that wake up early to iron, and product-stiff hair. He wears glasses, too, but those wire-thin ones that don’t look prescribed.

“Sup, Mr. Riley?”

“How’re things going?”

I shrug. I don’t really have a good answer for that one.Fine? Perfect? My future is screwed if I don’t pass AP Lit?“Okay.”

Mr. Riley gives me that look I hate—the skeptical one that’s always accompanied by a raised brow.

“You haven’t been too involved lately. Slightly disinterested.”

“I dunno. A lot on the brain,” I say, rubbing the nape of my neck. The student traffic around us is thinning out, but I still feel as if everyone’s watching us, watching me. “I have a meeting with Mrs. Scott today.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”