Page 19

Chapter 19

James

I was going to be late, so I drove a not-so-respectable ten miles over the speed limit back to school and parked in a spot far away from Grace’s presidential one. My parole officer would’ve already noticed that the Subaru was missing.

Right now I was supposed to be in calculus, which, admittedly, was perfect. Ms.Olsen faced the whiteboard writing out elaborate equations more than she addressed her confused class.

Her classroom was also on the first floor.

I crawled around the side of the building, through the bushes, until I spotted Caleb’s girlfriend in one window. Keep your chill, Alayna, I prayed. Keep your chill.

Then I rose from my skulk and gave her a subtle wave (I had no pebbles to toss). Alayna didn’t look over, scribbling something in her notes, so after a few seconds, I switched to lightly tapping on the glass.

Man, did that get her attention. Her spine straightened, her eyes widened. I would’ve preferred Isa rolling hers with a matching smirk, but we can’t have everything, can we?

James? Alayna mouthed.

No, the tattooed guy from that boy band you love, I thought drily, but only because I was keyed up.

I mimed what I needed her to do, and she carefully nodded. The desk next to her was empty, the ultimate gift. Alayna snuck a few glances at Ms.Olsen before pretending to stretch, but really leaning over to unlatch one of the classroom’s windows.

I waited a beat, then slowly pulled the window open so its hinges wouldn’t squeak. It wasn’t the largest of portals, but I would fit through just fine. I hoisted myself up and through the window, landing on the floor in a low crouch. Several classmates noticed but didn’t say anything. They wouldn’tdare.

In fact, they helped. Someone across the classroom raised their hand to ask a question as I slipped into my usual seat. Alayna handed me her science binder and a pen, since I hadn’t brought anything with me. My backpack was stuffed in my locker.

“Thank you,” I whispered, a line of sweat running down my back.

“No worries,” Alayna whispered back. “Grace doing okay?”

“She’s alive,” I said.

“Good.” She smiled as a light bulb flickered on in my head. I pictured the sympathy notes on my sister’s locker. My fellow students loved Grace. Now, the question was: Did the teachers?

“Oh, James!” Ms.Olsen suddenly exclaimed. Her hand went to her heart like I’d just sprung out from behind her desk in a scary Halloween mask and shouted “Boo!”

I looked up from Alayna’s biology notes. “Yes?”

“I didn’t know you were here!”

I shrugged. “Uh, well, I am?”

My math teacher put down her dry erase marker to reassess today’s online roll sheet. “I didn’t check off your name,” she said. “Why didn’t I check off your name?” She frowned. “I marked you absent.”

“I don’t know,” I said, abandoning the backstory I’d brainstormed. It seemed too manipulative now, saying that I’d been in the bathroom while she’d taken attendance.

I also didn’t want the class to witness me lying on the stand. Helping me sneak in was one thing, but blatantly fibbing in front of them? I didn’t think that would play out in my favor. Gossip spread around school in seconds. Mrs.Emerick in the nurse’s office would never offer me Tums again.

“Oh, oops,” Ms.Olsen said, laughing to herself. “I must’ve skipped over you for some reason.” She waved her hand before dramatically clicking something on her computer. “James Barbour, present!”

Phew, I thought, sliding down in my seat. Mission accomplished.

After the bell finally rang, I hauled ass to Mr.Henderson’s classroom. Five minutes. I only had five freaking minutes. “Hello, James,” my English teacher greeted me. “What can I do for you?”

“I have detention this afternoon,” I said.

“Yes, I assigned it to you,” he replied evenly. “For relocating my car.”

Which you thought was so funny, I thought, annoyed. So funny that you shook my hand to congratulate me, yet now you seem totally pissed.

I swallowed my words. Things were already complicated enough.

“Well…,” I said slowly. “I was wondering if, maybe, we could reschedule it for next Friday? Instead of me serving it today?”

Mr.Henderson leaned back in his chair, amused. “And why would we do that?”

“Because of my sister,” I said, and released a deep sigh. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but Grace is pretty sick—I actually went home at lunch, to check on her—and our parents both have to work late because they took her to the ER this morning. They have huge projects to finish by the end of the day.” I rubbed my forehead. “I just feel badly that Grace is going to be alone for a while. She was still throwing up when I left. It took a lot to leave her like that.”

Mr.Henderson was so bowled over that he rose from his chair. “James, I apologize,” he said. “I knew, but didn’t realize…” He shook his head. “Absolutely. We can absolutely postpone your detention.” He grabbed a pen from the I never asked to be the world’s best teacher but here I am completely crushing it mug on his desk and jotted down a note. “Deliver this to the main office,” he said afterward, handing me the memo sheet, “and consider it done.”

Again, I didn’t know what it was with our school. Had the faculty ever heard of email? Or texting? Why did they insist on carrier pigeons?!

“Thank you, sir,” I said before leaving the classroom. “I really appreciate it, and I know Grace does, too.”

My teacher nodded. “You’re welcome. She’s a trooper, your sister. Tell her to hang in there.”

“Will do.” I nodded and smiled once I was back in the hall. It had worked. Detention for today had been squared away.

Well, almost.

Students were pushing and shoving one another, racing to beat the next bell, but I stopped by my locker and grabbed a sweatshirt before heading in the opposite direction of the gym. Mr.Murphy never took attendance, way too eager to split Everett’s and my class into dodgeball teams.

I’m sure you can imagine who was always chosen first.

Nice arm, Adler!

For the third time today, I walked into the administration office. “What?” Mrs.Flamporis said when she saw me. “James! Back again ?”

I turned on a grin and held up the memo sheet. “Special delivery from Mr.Henderson.”

She skimmed the message. “You’re such a sweet brother,” she said. “My brother was never this sweet to me in high school.”

“Grace is special,” I said, wanting to barf.

“She so is,” Mrs.Flamporis agreed. “Practically an angel.”

“Yes, practically.”

Because jailbreaking Everett was the definition of angelic behavior.

Why oh why had I shown her Uncle Jeff’s Phillie Phanatic costume?!

“…her signature,” I heard Mrs.Flamporis say.

I blinked. “Uh, what was that?”

“I said this note looks good to me,” she repeated, “but since it’s late notice, you’re going to need Principal Unger’s signature.”

“Oh, of course,” I said, my stomach spinning when Mrs. Flamporis pointed to Unger’s office. I’d known this was coming, but…

I wasn’t too keen on talking to the principal again today.

“I caught her posting a photo to Instagram,” Mrs.Rogerson from FCS was saying as I pulled open the principal’s office door and saw Unger stick a pink Post-it Note on someone’s phone screen. “The caption was ‘#SavingGrace.’ Like all the posters in the hallway.”

Principal Unger sighed. Amazingly, she hadn’t noticed me yet. “Those posters are the reason for most of today’s repossessions.” She turned in her chair, and I watched her unlock the corner filing cabinet to deposit the latest casualty in the bottom drawer. “Grace’s absence has set a new record.”

“Well, she’s a very nice girl,” Mrs.Rogerson offered. “Everyone adores her.”

“Yes…,” Unger started, but then spotted me in the doorway. Her face sharpened. “It is customary to knock, Mr.Barbour.” She arched an eyebrow. “Or did you not know that?”

“Mm-hmm,” I said, an answer that I knew would irritate her to no end. It was one level above a grunt. Mrs.Rogerson obviously felt the tension in the room, because she murmured a goodbye and made herself scarce.

Unger gestured to the uncomfortable armchair across from her desk. “Why are you here?” she asked as I tossed my sweatshirt over the back and sat.

I presented Mr.Henderson’s note with a flourish.

“Fine,” she said two seconds later, signing my permission slip. “Next Friday it is.”

“Great,” I replied once she returned the memo, trying not to stare at the filing cabinet. My phone was so close yet so far. “I’ll give it to Mrs.Flamporis on my way out?”

“Not so fast.” Unger’s tone suggested I settle in for a police interrogation.

Sorry, a light conversation.

Our afternoon tea and crumpets were probably due to arrive any moment.

“You were late coming back from lunch,” Unger said. She folded her hands on top of her desk. “Please explain why.”

Oh, this was going to be good…

“Sadly, I can’t,” I told her. “Because I was not late.”

“Yes, you were, James,” she said. “The bell rang, classes resumed, yet Grace’s car had not returned to its parking spot.”

“That’s because I didn’t park there,” I said, making a mental note to tell my parents about this later. As delightful as it was to go toe-to-toe with Unger, this seemed excessive. Watching me leave for lunch? Waiting for me to return?

I know I wasn’t an angel like my sister, but really?

“Yes, you did park there!” Unger went from a five to an eleven. “This morning, you and Everett Adler—”

“We did,” I calmly cut her off, “but after lunch—which I spent with Grace, at her bedside —I realized that it isn’t really my place to park there. We may share a car, but I’m not the student body president. My sister’s special privileges do not extend to me.” I took a breath. “So when I came back from lunch, I parked by the baseball field.”

Principal Unger narrowed her eyes. “By the baseball field?”

I nodded. “You can go and check if you want. The license plate number is—”

“And you were in calculus today?”

“Mm-hmm,” I said cheerily, and stretched to tap her landline. “Ms.Olsen is only a call away….”

Unger glanced at the clock. “Yes, I will definitely be sending her a text on my way out.”

My eyebrows furrowed, because:

Texting did exist among the faculty?

Unger was on her way out?

I asked. The second question, not the first. Both were inappropriate, yes, but the second would give me more information.

“That doesn’t concern you, James,” Unger said, rising from her desk and slinging a purse over her shoulder. It had pugs all over it. “It’s my own private, personal business.”

Unger turned off the lights and shuttled me out of her office, but without locking the door. Mrs.Flamporis, bless her vanilla latte–loving heart, wished Unger a wonderful weekend when we passed her desk.

I smirked to myself.

Principal Unger was not only leaving school today, but she was also not returning.

Interesting.

Interesting, and too good an opportunity to waste.

I gave it twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, long enough for Unger to walk out to her reserved parking spot, unlock and climb into her obnoxious Escalade, start its engine, queue up whatever travesty her Spotify playlist was, only to then remember that she forgot something in her office. Twenty minutes, long enough to return to the office, grab whatever she’d forgotten, and give an encore farewell to her colleagues before she made her exit again and got into her already running car, pressed play on her music, and drove off.

Twenty minutes, yeah.

Mrs.Flamporis laughed when I made my fourth visit. Class was very much in session, but she didn’t ask why I wasn’t in mine. “James!” She put down her nail polish. “Come on, pretty soon you’ll be calling this office home!”

“Funny you should say that,” I said, and gestured to Principal Unger’s office. “I actually left my sweatshirt in Principal Unger’s HQ, and was wondering if I could grab it?”

“Of course,” Mrs.Flamporis said, blowing on her red nails. Hopefully it was only her first coat. I needed all the time I could get. “Go right ahead. I’ve always said the air-conditioning here is too much…”

Luckily, the rest of the outer office was empty. Mr.Cowan was probably in the computer lab, dealing with yet another IT issue, while Vice Principal Navani was out doing whatever it was vice principals did. Evaluating gym classes? I wondered. Any excuse to flirt with Mr.Murphy?

I glanced back to make sure Mrs.Flamporis had refocused on her nails.

Affirmative.

So I silently slipped into Unger’s office. I didn’t flip on the lights or anything, instead dropping to my knees and sneaking over to the filing cabinet. The bottom drawer was locked; Unger had probably given VP Navani the key to return students’ phones after school, but that didn’t deter me. I didn’t need a proper key. One of Grace’s bobby pins would do just as well.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G…, I hummed to myself as I fiddled with the pin, my fingers fumbling only a bit. The lock clicked and popped off when I’d hit X.

X marked the spot.

I pulled open the drawer to find a buzzing, beeping, chiming, and vibrating stash of iPhones and Androids. How could Unger think with this noise? Each phone had been labeled with a Post-it Note, students’ names written in villainous cursive.

“Fucking brilliant.” I sighed. It wasn’t that I disliked cursive handwriting; it was that I disliked Unger’s cursive. It was the kind of cursive you had to squint at for a good three seconds in order to decode it.

I quickly started sorting through phones:

Leah Brennan.

Connor McCallister.

Alayna Howard.

Jacob Bluestein.

Madeline Fisher-Michaels.

And then:

That Little Twerp!

“Twerp?” I muttered, rolling my eyes and ripping off the pink piece of paper before shutting the filing cabinet and relocking the drawer. “What decade are we in, Principal?”

I stuffed the pink note in my jeans’ pocket but couldn’t resist quickly checking my phone. Find My Friends, I thought, because finally— finally— I could use the app to find out Grace’s location.

When my screen lit up, it was flooded with notifications.

Notifications that included ten missed texts from Isa.

My heart quickened.

Isa.