“Hey, get back here!” Ben dropped his broom and took off across the garbage-strewn sidewalk in pursuit of Ferret Face. The little creature dove under a pile of newspapers and came out with a half-eaten hot dog. Ben snatched it away. “No chance, buster! You don’t know where that’s been!”
“He knows exactly where it’s been, and so do you,” Griffin pointed out. “It’s been in the garbage. It is the garbage!”
“No offense, Griffin, but stuff a sock in it,” muttered Logan. “I ought to have my head examined for following you and your cockamamie plans. It’s only a short step from community service to community theater. My talent belongs to the world, not some podunk playhouse.”
There was a chorus of discontented mumbling from the entire team.
“Come on, you guys,” Griffin reproached them. “We’ve gotten blowback from operations before this.”
“We’ve gotten blowback from operations that were necessary,” Pitch amended. “This was just to make Darren look like a clown — which is something he does pretty well on his own, with or without our help!”
A squad car drove by on Ninth Street, the officer looking at them pointedly as he passed. The workers went back to their jobs.
Savannah heaved a sigh. “Well, at least things can finally calm down around here now that everybody knows the lottery ticket was a hoax.”
Melissa stopped sweeping, her eyes peeking out from behind her hair. “That’s not technically true. What we did to Darren was a hoax. But the missing ticket — whatever happened to it — is a fact.”
“Thanks for that, Melissa,” Ben groaned. “When I’m wading through garbage, nothing cheers me up like thinking about money I’m never going to have.”
An SUV pulled up to the curb. The window whispered down, and Mrs. Benson leaned out. “Get in, Pitch, and make sure you sit on the plastic.”
“Sergeant Vizzini said we have to stay till five.”
“I’ve already informed the police.” Pitch’s mother looked disgusted. “What fun — having to clear my daughter’s dentist appointment with the law!” Her jaundiced eye found Griffin. “Pitch was never in trouble a day in her life until she started palling around with you. If I had my way, that would come to an end.”
“Mom, don’t be so dramatic,” Pitch put in tiredly.
“And she was certainly never a bully,” Mrs. Benson went on, as if no one had spoken. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself for the way you bullied that poor Vader boy!”
Griffin was shocked. “I didn’t bully Darren, Mrs. Benson.”
“Well, I don’t know what else you’d call it, sending the poor boy crawling through garbage and humiliating him in front of the whole town!”
Pitch shot Griffin a small shrug as they drove off.
Griffin was horrified. “Can you believe that? Me, bullying Vader? If you look up ‘bully’ in the dictionary, there’s a picture of him!”
“Listen, Griffin,” Ben said, “we know that because we’ve been dealing with Darren our whole lives. But think what it looks like to the adults in this town. We weren’t fighting for justice or saving animals this time. To anybody who doesn’t know Vader, this was a hundred percent mean.”
Griffin found no comfort at home, either. His parents understood all too well that their son was The Man With The Plan. Whatever had happened, it was a sure bet that Griffin was the ringleader.
“I know you don’t like Darren Vader very much,” his mother said primly. “But that’s no excuse for making a fool of the poor boy.”
“First that stunt with the SweetPick, and now this,” his father added. “Griffin, you’ve got to get your head on straight.”
That was the worst part of all. He’d already lied to keep Darren’s name out of the SweetPick incident. How could he tell the truth now and expect to be believed? But he’d only taken the rap in the first place so Dad wouldn’t have a beef with Mrs. Vader, who he depended on for business. It was so unfair!
Nor was there any relief for Griffin at school. The story of the lottery hoax was all over town, driven by gossip and the fact that the streets were littered with torn garbage bags and trash. On Monday, Dr. Egan, the principal, called for a schoolwide anti-bullying assembly. Griffin could feel dozens of eyes burning into his flesh as speeches were made and videos shown. It was one of the most uncomfortable hours of his life.
Finally, just as the torture appeared to be coming to an end, a hand shot up near the front.
“Dr. Egan,” came an all-too-familiar voice. “May I please say a few words to everybody?” Darren Vader stood up, his face radiating sincerity.
How could the principal say no? This was the boy the whole town knew had been the victim of exactly what the assembly was about.
Darren joined Dr. Egan onstage and accepted the microphone. “It isn’t easy for me to talk about this. I still feel hurt and embarrassed, but — I was bullied.”
Griffin recoiled in horror. Darren was looking directly at him.
“I haven’t been sleeping so great since it happened, so I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I’ve figured out that the only way to get past my pain is to forgive the people who did this to me. And so I do. All except one — the one who thought it up, The Man With The — well, let’s just say that the whole thing was his idea.”
Well, that does it, Griffin thought in agony. That last part was as good as a giant neon sign that said: THERE HE IS! THE BIG, BAD BULLY! Now the entire school was staring at him. Even his team looked kind of disapproving, all except Melissa. And he couldn’t be sure about her, because it was impossible to get a look at her whole face. Only Ben seemed a little sympathetic — surely you could expect support from your best friend! But Ferret Face must have sensed the scorn of the crowd, because his beady eyes were cold and glaring.
Dr. Egan hurriedly snatched back the microphone. “Well, thank you, Darren, for those — uh — inspiring words. Let’s remember what was said here this morning. We’ll dismiss from the rear.”
On the way back to homeroom through the crowded halls, Logan caught up to the others. “Man, did you hear that? Darren must have been really hurt!”
“Are you kidding me?” Griffin was beyond annoyed. “How can you call yourself an actor when you just fell for the biggest acting job since they paved Broadway? You want to talk about bullying? How about standing up in front of eight hundred kids and telling them to be mad at one person? It’s got to be the first time in history that there was bullying onstage in the middle of an anti-bullying assembly!”
“Hey, you guys, wait up!” A short, slight, blue-eyed boy with blond hair spiked on top fell into step with them. “Can I walk with you? This school’s totally confusing. I couldn’t find my homeroom with a GPS.”
Pitch laughed. “Just pick a direction, then go the opposite way. It usually ends up right.”
Victor Phoenix had arrived in Cedarville the previous week at the height of the Dumpster-diving frenzy. On his first day at school, he’d had his new classmates howling with laughter at his description of moving day.
“We unpacked our stuff. But as soon as we put the boxes at the curb, these people came and tore everything apart! It was like a snowstorm out there! I was positive we’d moved to the Twilight Zone!”
“I guess your Twilight Zone theory just got confirmed,” Griffin told him now. “Did you catch that act in there with Darren Vader?”
Victor’s response was dead serious. “It took a lot of courage to speak up the way he did.”
Griffin bit his tongue. The kid was new, which meant he hadn’t had a chance to get to know Vader yet.
He’d learn soon enough.
That afternoon’s community service brought the cleanup crew to Ravine Road, on the outskirts of downtown. Luckily, the Nassau County street sweepers had been through this area, so there wasn’t much to do beyond rebagging the wire trash bins and a little light cleaning with their brooms. After about twenty minutes of work, they were done.
“Maybe we should
move on to the next block,” Melissa suggested in her quiet voice.
There was a chorus of groans, all in the negative.
“Do I look like a garbage-picking wizard?” Ben demanded. “I clean what I have to, and nothing more.”
Pitch checked her climber’s watch. “We’re still on the clock for the next forty minutes.”
Luthor suddenly stiffened, his cropped ears at attention. A low growl rose in his mighty throat. A few seconds later, a light-furred Siamese cat trotted around the corner, tail held high. The big Doberman emitted a sound that would not have been out of place coming from a T. rex. He was off like a shot.
“Luthor!” exclaimed Savannah harshly.
Terrified, the little Siamese whipped back around the corner, out of sight. A moment later, she reappeared in the arms of none other than Victor Phoenix.
“Oh, hey, you guys,” the newcomer called. “Street’s looking good.”
“We lucked out this time,” Pitch explained. “The sweeper truck got here first.”
Savannah could see only the cat. “Oh, she’s gorgeous! Look at those blue eyes! Is she a real applehead Siamese?”
Victor nodded. “Wow, you sure know a lot about cats.”
Griffin laughed. “Also dogs, ocelots, boll weevils, lions, koalas, and Komodo dragons.”
Victor shot him a Who asked you? look, and then turned back to Savannah. “Her name is Penelope. I’ve had her since she was a kitten.” His face turned tragic. “But I don’t think I’ll have her much longer.”
Savannah looked alarmed. “Is she sick?”
“No, but my dad is. He’s developed a sudden allergy to cat dander. The doctor says it must have been triggered by the move — you know, the cat hair flying when we packed up all our stuff.”
Savannah reached out and plucked Penelope from his arms. “Oh, sweetie,” she cooed. “So soft! Our two cats are senior citizens. They have wisdom, but I’d forgotten how much fun the young ones can be.”
Luthor tried to insert his enormous head between Savannah and the cat she held. In his mind, he was “sweetie.”
Savannah pushed him away. “Not now.”
But a nanosecond later, Luthor was back, trying to lick Savannah’s face.
“I think someone might be jealous,” Ben commented.
“Don’t be silly,” Savannah said, absently scratching behind Penelope’s silky ears. “Luthor’s never jealous. We live with lots of animals, including cats. We’re one big happy family.”
Victor reached out and took his cat back. “You’re lucky. All I have is Penelope. And tomorrow I have to take her to the animal shelter.”
“No, you don’t,” Savannah said firmly. “Bring Penelope to my house instead.”
“But, Savannah!” Griffin gasped. “Your mom said she’d disown you if you brought home another pet!”
Victor scorched him with a look that would have melted lead.
Griffin recoiled. What did I ever do to that guy?
“First of all,” Savannah lectured, “they’re not pets. They’re friends, equals. And second, we’re not adopting her. We’re just taking her until Victor’s dad works out his allergy problem.”
Victor was overcome. “You would do that for me? You hardly know me!”
“It’s no big deal,” she assured him. “Penelope will live at my house while you get your dad a good doctor. Obviously, you’re welcome to come and visit her as often as you want.”
“And you’re sure it’ll be okay with your folks?”
“Absolutely.”
Luthor watched in dismay as the cat was handed back to Savannah. His short cropped tail abruptly stopped wagging.
On Wednesday, Griffin set his tray down at the long cafeteria table to find Logan and Victor poring over a large cardboard chart, so absorbed that their lunches sat ignored.
“What’s that?” Griffin asked.
“It’s our Oscar prediction chart,” Logan explained. “See? We’ve got all the major award categories on the board, and the possible nominees on Post-it notes. When new movies come out, we make our best guess about which actors and directors and writers and so on have a chance at which awards. Like, for best actor —” He stared at Victor. “Christian Bale? No way! What about Johnny Depp?”
Victor pointed to a Post-it on the other side. “I have him down for supporting actor in that cowboy flick.”
Logan’s eyes became dreamy. “I could have killed in that role.”
“You’re an actor?” Victor asked.
“Are you kidding? Remember that commercial for Toenail Fungus Genie? I was the kid who said, ‘Works on jock itch, too.’”
Victor looked impressed. “That was you?”
Savannah sat down next to them. “Hi, Griffin. What’s up?”
“I’m being totally ignored like I don’t even exist,” Griffin informed her conversationally.
“Cool,” she said absently. “Hey, Victor, I shot some video of Penelope playing with Cleopatra, my monkey.” She slid her phone across the table.
Griffin took a bite of his sandwich, only to find his appetite gone.
Melissa arrived, and handed Victor a flash drive containing a special debugging program for his computer. Pitch was next, bearing a length of climbing rope and a carabiner. She and Victor began showing each other various knots.
Griffin couldn’t help himself. “He’s a climber, too?”
“No,” said Pitch, barely looking up. “An Eagle Scout.”
Griffin looked on in amazement. Victor Phoenix had barely been in town a week, and already it was like he’d been friends with everybody since kindergarten.
Ben was the last to join them. He sat down and began to tie into his lunch.
Good old Ben, Griffin thought. At least he could rely on his best friend not to have forged a deep personal connection with the new guy.
Ben tore off a piece of bologna and handed it down his collar. All at once, he began to squirm, scratching madly under his T-shirt.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Savannah.
“Ferret Face is shedding,” said Ben in a strangled voice, continuing to wriggle. “His fur is inside all my clothes! The itch is driving me crazy!”
Victor looked up from the rope. “You ought to try mixing a raw egg in with his chopped meat,” he advised thoughtfully. “It’ll stop that shedding, and egg will make his coat shiny, too.”
Ben beamed. “Thanks a lot! I’m ready to try anything at this point.”
Did this kid have an answer for everything? Griffin decided to give it a try. “You know, Victor, my foot’s been bugging me lately. The back of my shoe’s been rubbing against my ankle.”
“So?” Victor returned to his knot tying with Pitch.
“So have you got any advice for me?”
Victor shrugged coldly. “Do I look like a shoemaker?”
Griffin looked around the table. Melissa and Ben were eating; Savannah was watching cat and monkey videos; Logan was rearranging his Oscar picks; and Pitch was affixing an elaborate knot to her carabiner. No one had been paying attention when Victor dissed him so totally.
Why does Victor Phoenix hate me?
After lunch, Victor left early to head to the locker room for gym. The others were about to go their separate ways when Griffin called the table to order.
“Make it fast,” requested Logan, rolling up his Oscar chart and securing it with a rubber band. “I want to get this stowed before I forget Victor’s locker combination.”
“Guys,” said Griffin urgently, “don’t you notice something a little weird about Victor?”
“He’s nice,” offered Melissa timidly.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that he just so happens to be interested in exactly the things you guys are interested in? He loves movies … and cats; he’s good with a computer; he ties knots; he knows how to keep a ferret from shedding. Doesn’t that set off any alarm bells?”
Ben shrugged. “He’s smart. He knows about a lot of dif
ferent things. I like him.”
“I know you think the main basis for a friendship is getting your friends arrested,” Pitch added. “But in the real world, people hit it off because they have stuff in common.”
“Okay, how about this, then,” Griffin persisted. “Have you noticed that he hates my guts?”
“Don’t be paranoid,” Savannah scoffed. “He doesn’t hate anybody’s guts.”
“He hates mine!” Griffin’s voice was rising. “He ignores me like I’m not even here. And when he does talk to me, it’s only to say something nasty. He’s worse than Vader.”
“Oh, come on!” Ben scoffed. “How do you compare any human with Vader?”
“I’m serious,” Griffin insisted. “With Darren, at least you know where you stand — he hates everybody.”
“You’re imagining things,” Ben accused. “You know why we like Victor? He’s nice, he’s fun, and Detective Sergeant Vizzini has never heard of him. Which counts for a lot when you live with my mother.”
“You guys are so blind!” Griffin raved.
“I know what your problem is,” said Pitch decisively. “You’re jealous. You don’t like him because we do. And you’re afraid you’re being replaced by a guy who’s so helpful he’s practically the other Man With The Plan!”
If she had plunged a knife into his back and twisted it, she could not have caused Griffin more pain.
Cleopatra, the capuchin monkey, expertly climbed the ladder-back chair. With a spring of her agile little body, she launched herself over the dining room table, sailing just under the chandelier. As she passed, a little hand came up and clinked a dangling crystal. She landed delicately on the far end of the table and dropped to the floor.
Next, two black-tipped ears appeared on the launch chair. Blue eyes and whiskers rose up over the plane of the table. Penelope leaped, powered by muscular haunches. The Siamese followed the monkey’s path, swiping and missing the chandelier with an immaculate white paw, but tweaking the crystal with the dark tip of her elegant tail. She landed in the seat of the opposite chair before jumping down beside Cleopatra. The capuchin chattered appreciatively, and the two friends lined up to do it again.