But then he shouted, “Don’t ever accuse me of anything again! I am not a thief!”
“Jack, stop by the cafeteria and get some breakfast before you go on to second bell,” Mrs. Sherman suggested gently. “Sometimes a little food in the morning helps me manage my day so much better. And stop by Nurse Thornton’s office as well, you hear?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jack mumbled. He grabbed his cymbals and his extra-large book bag and left.
“Maybe you were wrong, and the person was able to wash that stuff off, Osrick,” Arielle whispered.
Osrick, looking quite sure of himself, shook his head.
Mrs. Sherman put down the black light and flexed her fingers. “Whew! My hands are cramping up on me. Peggy, would you finish up for me? Thanks.” She handed the small black light to Miss Pringle, who seemed reluctant as she picked up the light’s handle with her thumb and forefinger and nodded to Arielle to come forward. When Arielle came through clean, Miss Pringle motioned to Rosa Gonzalez. Arielle noticed that she did not go back to class as she was told, but lingered in the hall.
Osrick came up next, his small palms shining clean and bright under the light. Then he did something odd. He bumped the light with his left hand, and it slipped from Miss Pringle’s grasp onto the table. As she reached to pick it up, her right hand slid under the luminosity of the UV light.
Glowing a blue-white bright, the iridescent imprint of the antitheft powder on Miss Pringle’s fingers and palms screamed the accusation in the suddenly silent room.
ARIELLE
CHAPTER 28
THURSDAY, MARCH 10
ARIELLE GASPED. MISS PRINGLE DROPPED the black light onto the floor and the bulb shattered into tiny pieces. She looked at Officer Hammler and Mrs. Sherman, and then at her hands, which under daylight looked perfectly normal. She touched a key on the lanyard around her neck. Her eyes darted around rapidly, as if she were looking for an escape, or trying to figure out what to say.
“Peggy,” Mrs. Sherman said gently, “let’s go to my office and have a little chat, shall we?”
Miss Pringle nodded mutely. Officer Hammler put his hand on her shoulder as he walked out of the room with her. She did not pick up her coffee cup, so it sat there on the table, looking oddly out of place.
Arielle noticed Rosa still hovering in the hall, listening for any tidbit or detail.
“Osrick,” said Mrs. Sherman, “thank you for your wonderful detective work. Until we get to the bottom of this, I’m asking that you and Arielle keep what just happened to yourselves.”
“Okay,” Osrick said. Then he added, “If you check that storage room in the back of the chem lab, the one she keeps locked twenty-four/seven, I’ll bet you’ll find some of the stolen stuff.”
Mrs. Sherman looked mildly surprised, then nodded sadly. “Go on to class now, kids.”
“Okay, but we’re in Miss Pringle’s class second bell—there’s no teacher up there!” Arielle protested.
“I’ll send the building sub up in a few. You guys are seniors—I trust you to behave yourselves for five minutes. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Sherman hurried toward her office. Rosa scurried a few paces behind the principal.
Arielle and Osrick headed in the opposite direction down the mostly deserted hall. “How did you know?” she asked him.
“I sit close to that storeroom door, you know. So I noticed that Miss Pringle was, like, really diligent about locking that door. Even if she went in there ten times during class, she’d lock it back up every single time, and double-check it by jiggling the lock to make sure.”
“Well, she keeps chemicals and stuff in there. I guess she’s required to keep it locked.”
“No, there was something not normal—kinda like obsessive—about how she kept locking that door,” Osrick said, shaking his head. “I made a kind of game of it—trying to peek into that storeroom before she could lock it back. Sometimes I’d catch glimpses of things.”
“Like what?”
“I saw an iPhone on a shelf.”
Arielle inhaled sharply. “You did? Why didn’t you say something?”
“She could have brought her own iPhone.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I also saw a camera, a couple of cell phones, and a laptop—all neatly organized on a bookshelf.”
“Lots of teachers have that stuff,” Arielle reasoned.
“I know. I just had this funny feeling at first,” Osrick explained. “But then I saw her take Paula Ingram’s Game Boy.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. She was real slick and quick about it. Remember when she was messing with Roscoe about copying off the Internet? While she was talking to him, I saw her slip her hands into Paula’s book bag and drop the Game Boy into the pocket of those baggy pants she wears.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Arielle asked.
“Be for real, Arielle. Who am I to accuse a teacher? You gotta have proof! That’s when I started searching the Internet.”
Arielle frowned. “I don’t get it. Why would a teacher steal stuff? They make lots of money—at least more than any of us do.”
“It’s a sickness, I guess,” he replied. “Like alcoholism or drug addiction.”
“Freaky,” she said, shaking her head. “Hey, I gotta make a bathroom stop. I’ll see you upstairs. You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” As she turned toward the girls’ restroom, Osrick called out to her, “Hey, Arielle. Thanks for believing in me. This was the most fun I’ve had since I’ve been in high school.”
“You’re okay, Osrick. Really okay.” She smiled, waved, and disappeared into the girls’ bathroom.
KOFI
CHAPTER 29
THURSDAY, MARCH 10
UPSTAIRS, MISS PRINGLE’S ENTIRE CLASS stood by the windows watching the spectacle below. A police car had pulled up to the front of the school, red and blue lights flashing. Two officers had gone inside the building, but neither had come out yet. Kofi watched, trying to ignore his body screaming for a pain pill. A couple more days, he thought, and I’ll be past this. No more little Oxy babies for me. No more. He felt like slapping himself on the back.
“Who they busting?” Cleveland asked.
“I don’t know, man,” Kofi replied with a shrug.
“What was all that blue light stuff about down in Room 123?” Brandon wondered.
“If your hands glowed under that light, that proved you were the school thief,” Rudy explained.
“So who did they catch?”
“I don’t know, man. After they checked each person, they made you leave. They obviously caught somebody, though. All I know is, it wasn’t me!” said Jericho.
Eddie sat in the back of the room, his feet up on the desk in front of him. “And it wasn’t me. Although I know lots of you hoped it was.” He glanced at Dana.
Kofi tightened and released his fists. I’m not gonna mess up the rest of my life by clocking this dude, he thought. But it sure would feel good.
Kofi caught Dana’s eye. Not today, she seemed to be saying. She took a deep breath as she watched him, and indicated he should do the same. He did, but it only helped a little.
Eric Bell said, “I notice they didn’t call me down to be checked. I guess they were looking for somebody who could run real fast with the stolen loot!”
Jericho grabbed the handles of Eric’s chair and gave him a twirl. “I’ve seen you get top speeds on that thing in an empty hallway, Eric. An electric wheelchair is an awesome motorcycle. Don’t underestimate yourself!”
“And don’t overestimate my chair. A kid on roller skates could beat me!”
“So where’s Miss Pringle?” asked Kofi.
“The coffee queen? Probably downstairs in the cafeteria filling up,” November replied.
“And where’s Rosa?” Luis said, concern in his voice. “It’s not like her to be late to class. The last I saw her was when we were in that room getting checke
d.”
“Well, maybe she’s the thief,” Roscoe suggested. “Maybe that police car is for your girl.”
“Don’t you talk like that, man!” Luis rose out of his chair, his fist drawn back.
“Hey, chill, dude,” Roscoe said apologetically. “I was just jokin’. Arielle’s not back yet either. I can’t help it if I notice beautiful women!”
“Crazy Jack is a no-show as well,” Jericho commented, “but maybe he went home. He was actin’ kinda whacked-out this morning.”
Rosa bounded into the room, her eyes bright and her face full of excitement. “I know who the thief is!” she announced.
Almost everybody gathered around her. “Who is it?” they clamored, all speaking at once.
“Crazy Jack?”
“Ram?”
“Eddie?”
He glared at them from the back.
“Arielle?”
“Oh, be for real,” Rosa said with a shake of her head.
“Rudy?”
“Weird Osrick?”
“No!” she said, bouncing up and down in anticipation. “It’s not a student at all!” She paused for effect.
“Tell us!” they screamed.
“It’s Miss Pringle!”
“Shut up!”
“That’s crazy!”
“How do you know?” Luis asked.
“I work for Mrs. Sherman, you know, so I waited after I was checked. A little while later Officer Hammler took Miss Pringle back to the office, and I followed them.”
“You mean Miss Pringle, our teacher, is the thief?” Jericho asked, incredulous.
“Yep. Hers were the only hands that turned blue.”
“A teacher?” Roscoe echoed. “That’s messed up!”
“How did they catch her?” asked Eric.
“Well, I listened on the little intercom that connects to Mrs. Sherman’s office, and I heard everything!” Rosa seemed to bask in being the center of attention.
“Officer Hammler put some secret spy powder on some money and an iPod yesterday and hid it in Arielle’s purse!”
“Arielle was in on it? No way!”
“No wonder she’s not here.”
“You know how Miss Pringle changes her clothes in the girls’ locker room every day so she can go running on the track?”
“Yeah, I saw her yesterday,” said November.
“Wasn’t she supposed to be one of the locker room guardians?” Olivia asked. “They assigned certain teachers to look out for the thief.”
“Well, that’s really convenient,” Dana commented wryly. “What a perfect setup.”
Rosa could hardly wait to continue. “So Miss Pringle jacks the stuff out of Arielle’s purse, goes on her run, and has no idea she’s been caught!”
“You’d think she woulda washed her hands or taken a shower since yesterday,” Cleveland mused.
“The stuff stays on for three days,” Rosa said with newfound authority. “And if you rub it, it goes deeper into your skin.”
“Wow.”
“Remember when Mrs. Sherman got her wallet lifted in the cafeteria?” November asked the group. “Who supposedly found the wallet in the trash?”
“Miss Pringle!” Dana said, remembering.
“Nobody ever put two and two together!” Olivia smacked her head.
“They found the iPod and the money in her purse,” Rosa announced. “And the rest of the stolen goods, I think, are locked in that storeroom.” She pointed behind Osrick’s desk.
“For real?” Roscoe ran to the door to check the knob, but it would not turn. “No wonder she kept that door tightened up all the time.”
“You mean my Game Boy might be in there?” Paula asked.
“It’s possible,” said Rosa. “When Miss Pringle admitted to everything and told where she’d stashed the stuff, that’s when Mrs. Sherman said she was forced to call the cops.”
“Deep. A kleptomaniac!” Jericho said in amazement.
“Spoon would give you ten points for that word,” Roscoe joked.
Rosa brought the conversation back to herself. “So I decided now was a good time to slip out of the office and tell people what I knew.”
“Who else have you told?” Osrick asked from the back of the room. The whole class turned to look at him. His face was red with anger.
Rosa tossed her dark curls. “I told my two best friends, Jennifer and Cecelia, and three other kids I didn’t know, and then I came up here. Why?”
“That was private information, and not for you to tell,” Osrick said furiously.
“Forget that! Juicy news like this has got to be told! How do you think reporters make a living?” She turned away from him as if she’d flicked away an insect.
“The woman deserved respect,” Osrick insisted, “and privacy.”
“She didn’t respect our stuff!” said Luis, defending his girlfriend.
“And it looks like the cops aren’t giving her much respect either,” Cleveland reported, looking out the window. Kofi watched as well.
With hands cuffed and head bowed, Miss Pringle was being escorted out of the building by two uniformed police officers as the stunned students watched in silence.
KOFI
CHAPTER 30
THURSDAY, MARCH 10
THEN THE HUSH THAT FILLED THE ROOM was shattered. The fire alarm reverberated once again. Clang-clong! Clang-clong! Clang-clong!
“Not again!” Cleveland cried out in frustration. “I’m ’bout SICK of these alarms!”
“For real, now,” Roscoe agreed.
Everyone in the room grumbled, moving away from the window to find their coats.
Jericho sighed. “Let’s get Eric, dudes, and get on out of here.”
“Hey, now they need to spread that blue stuff on the fire alarm, to get that crazy alarm ringer out of here,” November said thoughtfully.
Kofi put both his hands to his head. The constant headache pounded, his stomach churned, and his shoulders itched. Everything seemed to throb like a purple cloud around him. And that clanging, clanging, clanging of the fire alarm wouldn’t stop.
In the next moment, everything changed.
Kofi inhaled and almost forgot to breathe out. The classroom seemed to be suspended in time. Like a stop-motion movie scene, he stood by that window observing every detail, every person, every event separately, and at the same time.
The classroom windows—dull, yellowed, and streaked.
The stacks of chemistry books on the floor—covers curled at the edges.
The computers—humming and glowing with fuzzy printed text.
A wastebasket—overflowing with paper and chip wrappers and dirty tissues.
The sharp smell of orange peels and spilled chocolate milk—more trash.
Desks—scuffed, scratched, and bent, never quite balanced on all four legs.
The late winter sun—dull gold, trapped outside the locked windows.
The painted concrete floor—criss-crossed with the shadows of dusty footprints.
The periodic table of the elements—creased, ripped, and memorized.
A whiteboard—smeared with notes from colored markers.
Posters of several long-dead scientists on the wall—looking serious and cold.
Jericho—his face mirroring confidence, confusion, then disbelief.
Eric—intense, but helpless, his hand clutching the controller of his chair.
Rosa—screaming and screaming.
Luis—reaching out to pull her close to him, her screams turning to whimpers.
Olivia—her round face full of shock. She does not move.
November—frantically searching with her eyes.
Roscoe—silent for once. Hands trembling.
Cleveland—big and powerful, but unsure. Fear covers his face.
Brandon—pale, red-faced, one hand in his pocket.
Dana—his Dana—crawling on the floor.
Paula—stunned and silent.
Osrick—huddled almost unseen in
the back.
Eddie—looking almost amused.
And Jack—red-eyed and crazed—standing at the door. Pointing an AK-47 assault rifle directly at them all.
“Everybody sit down!” Jack yelled. They sat. Dana stayed on the floor, curled into a ball. Rosa had curled herself into the arms of Luis.
This is unreal! Kofi thought. Stuff like this only happens on the news.
“What’s up with this, Jack?” Jericho said, his voice steady.
“Shut up!” Jack screamed. He pointed the gun directly at Jericho. November gasped.
The fire alarm continued to ring shrilly in the background, a crazy accompaniment to Jack’s appearance. Clang-clong! Clang-clong! Clang-clong!
“I will no longer be ignored!” Jack cried out. “It’s time to listen to what I have to say!”
“We’re here to listen, man,” Jericho continued, looking Jack in the eye, his voice quiet, soothing. “Just spit it out. We’re here for you, Jack.” He took one step away from Eric, whom he’d been shielding with his body, toward Jack.
Don’t try to be a hero, Jericho! Kofi screamed in his head.
“Don’t move!” Jack growled.
Jericho froze.
Jack looked around the room, taking in the scene, aiming the gun erratically—first at Roscoe, then Rosa, who cringed, and finally at Dana.
Kofi inhaled deeply. Not my Dana. No way!
Jack’s eyes blinked rapidly. “Where’s Pringle?” he asked.
“She’s not coming back,” Jericho explained.
“Why not?”
“She got arrested,” said Eric quietly, using the same tones Jericho had.
“I don’t get it.” Jack looked confused.
“She was the thief.”
“And see, they tried to blame me!” Jack raged. “Made me feel like dirt—checking my hands for poison.” He rubbed his left hand on his jeans. His right hand held the rifle securely.
“They checked all of us, Jack,” Jericho reminded him. “All of us.” Somehow he seemed to have become the spokesperson for the class.
“That blue light!” Jack said. “They tried to burn me with the blue light!”