I parked Halle in her usual spot and tried not to drag my feet as I approached the school. I’d made the decision; I couldn’t wimp out now. I even called Sera the night before and told her I’d probably be late and to just meet me at lunch. No turning back now.
I walked into the main foyer and my eyes immediately went to Kimberlee’s portrait on the wall. She looked innocent in that picture—happy. I knew better. I wondered if Kimberlee had ever been innocent, and I knew it had been years since she’d been happy.
I steeled myself and walked past the portrait and into the south hall.
But she wasn’t there.
I stared at the space on the floor she had occupied yesterday—the place she’d lain when I first saw her. I blinked a few times and wondered if fate had changed its mind. Had I screwed up so badly I wasn’t allowed to help anymore? Maybe it was Kimberlee who had screwed up. Okay, fine. Probably it was Kimberlee who screwed up.
For a moment I dared to hope she’d been allowed to move on after all, but the idea fled almost as soon as I thought of it. If anything, Kimberlee was more conflicted than when we’d first met.
Maybe I just couldn’t see her anymore. I walked over to her spot and tried to stand there casually. “Kimberlee,” I whispered. “Are you there?”
A backpack bumped my shoulder. “Sorry, man,” a sophomore said. “My fault.” He hurried on when he saw the look on my face. But my eyes weren’t on him; they were fixed on the line his feet had just followed. Straight across where Kimberlee should have been lying. He didn’t stop and look down the way everyone did when they made contact with Kimberlee—staring around as the chills went through them. He didn’t look at his feet at all.
She wasn’t there.
Where was she? She had nowhere else to go.
Did she?
Maybe she’d found someone else who could see her. Maybe there was another new kid. The thought made me strangely, irrationally jealous.
I went home alone after school. Sera’s parents were having company for afternoon tea—whatever the hell that was—and dinner that night, and Sera’s parents had decided that her presence was required. So I was left out in the cold. I came home to an empty garage, and a note on the kitchen door told me Mom and Dad had taken off for one of their spontaneous romantic weekends.
They think it improves their marriage—I try to think about it as little as possible.
I was vaguely hungry, but I didn’t even stop for a Coke as I headed up to my room. Everything seemed wrong. I should be happy Kimberlee was gone—whether by choice or not. But even though I’d all but given up on her, I hated that she’d given up on me.
I reached for the TV, intending to play something mindless, but after looking through my games for a full five minutes and finding nothing that appealed to me, I turned to my bookshelf instead. When I was little and we lived in Phoenix we didn’t have cable or video games or anything like that. Hell, we were so poor we rarely had anything beyond necessities. So I got into comics. I could go to the comic-book store and, as long as I bought one comic when I left, the owner would let me read the rest of them for hours. Spider-Man, Superman, Sandman—guess I was all about the S-Men—and then when I was done, I would choose my favorite and take it home. I didn’t have any complete series, just random issues. But it made for good comfort reading.
I pulled out one of my favorite issues of Spider-Man and had gotten about ten pages in when my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, and was about to hit Talk before I realized I was answering the wrong phone.
The ringing was coming from my bedside table drawer. The phone Khail had given me. The one that had only rung maybe three times in the whole time I’d owned it. It rang twice more while I tried to figure out what to do.
I should probably answer it.
Shouldn’t I?
Finally, after about eight rings, I brought the phone to my ear. “Yeah,” I said in a voice a few tones lower than normal.
A couple of seconds passed in silence. “Is this the guy who’s been returning all the stolen stuff?”
I’d have known her voice anywhere. Sera. I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything.
“Don’t hang up,” she said, and that tiny inflection, the touch of desperation in her voice, made me obey.
“I know this is you and . . . I’m calling to ask for your help on Khail’s behalf.”
Khail’s behalf?
“He got caught.”
I felt my throat convulse, making it hard to breathe.
“He doesn’t know it, but he did. Hennigan pulled me into his office last Monday and told me that when you guys broke into the school, Khail apparently was trying to turn off the alarm and he lifted his mask and got caught on camera.”
“There’s not a camera in Hennigan’s office,” I said, hoping Hennigan had just been bluffing.
“Not an official one. After the theft ring last year Hennigan decided he needed his own security and put in his own camera. Trust me,” she said before I could argue, “I’ve seen the video. It’s obviously Khail.”
Dammit! “So why didn’t he just nab Khail?” I asked, still in the weird, low voice.
“Hennigan knew it wasn’t just one person. He wanted to catch the whole ring. Thought he’d put pressure on him later. But then he figured out Khail couldn’t be the ringleader.”
“Why not?”
“He went back and checked the schedule. Khail was gone for a three-day wrestling meet the week stuff first started showing up. So Hennigan knew he couldn’t have gotten involved until later.”
I tried to play it cool. “So what? Khail’s not going to squeal. Why do you need my help?”
“You’re right. Khail will take his punishment for you and never say a word. I know it. Hennigan knows it. So he leaned on me instead.”
“What’s he got on you?” I bluffed.
“It’s not about me. Hennigan just . . . knows that I won’t let anything happen to my brother. The damage from the chemicals and sprinklers in the lab will cost the school almost ten thousand dollars. Hennigan is talking about pressing criminal charges for breaking and entering.”
Ten thousand dollars? Criminal charges? I knew there was some damage but I hadn’t imagined it was so substantial.
“At first Hennigan said if I could give him the ringleader he’d just give Khail two days’ suspension. But he called me into his office again this week.” She paused and I could hear her sniffing in the background. “He’s so pissed. He’s given up on the idea of catching the whole ring. He just wants someone. A scapegoat. And if he doesn’t have one by Monday morning—” Her voice caught and her muffled sobs made my chest ache. “He’s going to expel Khail. He won’t graduate, he’ll lose his scholarships . . . I can’t let that happen.”
And everything came crashing down around me.
I had failed.
Failed so completely and so miserably that there was no way to pick up the pieces.
For a few weeks there, I really thought I was a hero. I was like Robin Hood, or Edmund Dantès, or Percy Blakeney. A daring vigilante.
And now I was just a punk kid who was about to get his friend expelled.
“What can I do?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“Turn yourself in.”
Three simple words that struck a fear into my heart so deep I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to speak.
“I know it’s not fair. None of it is,” Sera continued. “But it’s even more unfair to let Khail take the fall for this. I don’t know why he’s involved at all, but I guarantee he’s not doing it for himself. He . . .” She stopped and had to get control of her emotions again. “He’s the most unselfish person I know. Whatever the hell he was doing with you, I promise it was to help someone else. Do not let him take the fall.” A few seconds passed in silence before she added, “Please?” in a voice so fragile and frail I knew there was no way I could refuse. “He’s not just my brother; he’s my best friend. I would take his expulsion for
him, but I can’t. I tried.”
“You tried?” In my surprise I almost spoke in my regular voice.
“I owe my brother everything. Of course I tried. But Hennigan knew I was lying. I had no proof, no nothing, and it was a crap story. I’m a terrible liar. You’re the only one who can help him now.”
It took two tries to get the words to come out of my mouth, but finally I managed to say, “Okay.”
“Thank you,” she said in that same vulnerable voice. It was almost a question, as if she wasn’t completely sure I’d actually said it—or, more likely, that I’d actually meant it.
“But I want you to turn me in,” I blurted, before thinking through the consequences of that statement. “I want to make sure you’re off the hook.”
She sniffled again. “Please don’t make me do that,” she said.
I almost couldn’t believe my ears. “I thought you wanted the Red Rose Returner to get caught.”
“I just wanted you to go away. You reminded me of a horrible time in my life, and I hated being slapped with it day after day.”
Guilt welled up in my chest. I knew now what she was talking about, and honestly, if it had been me, I wouldn’t have wanted reminders, either. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. You made a lot of people happy. Khail included. You . . . you have no idea what the stuff you gave back meant to him.”
Actually, I kind of did.
“Still, you have to turn me in. That way Hennigan can never hold this against you.” She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, so I continued. “I’m going in either way. It may as well do someone some good.”
More silence. “Okay,” she finally said. “What do I do?”
I hadn’t really thought that part out. Probably best to just keep it simple. “I’ll be at the school at six tonight. I’ll meet them in the parking lot and I’ll bring stickers if they want proof. You call Hennigan and tell him that.”
“And you’ll be there?”
The words caught in my throat, but I choked them out, sealing my fate. “I promise.”
I stared at the phone for a long time after I hung up. Part of me wished I had thrown the phone away as soon as we’d finished our big return on Monday. Wished that by the time I figured out it was my lying about Kimberlee being on watch that got Khail caught, it was too late to help.
But then I would have to live with the guilt.
I’d told my mom to trust me. Assured her I was a good kid, just trying to do the right thing. And she had trusted me. How was I going to tell her I’d repaid that trust by getting myself expelled? And criminal charges—was Hennigan bluffing about that? I flopped back onto my bed and tried to think of a way to get out of this, even though I knew there wasn’t one. It was time to pay my dues. No good deed goes unpunished, and all that.
And the biggest irony of all? Kimberlee—the catalyst of everything that had gone wrong—was nowhere to be found.
The worst part was that Sera was going to be devastated when she found out it was me. I wasn’t sure which emotion would win out—anger or guilt—but either way, I’d screwed everything up for her, too.
For the first time since I was, like, ten years old, I had the urge to curl up on my bed and cry. Right then, I just wanted to get in Halle and drive back to Phoenix, where stuff like this didn’t happen.
But I couldn’t.
I looked over at my alarm clock to see how many minutes of my so-called life I had left when my eyes fell on something on my bedside table that I had forgotten about. A tiny flicker of hope sparked inside me as I reached over and picked it up.
It was my only chance.
I picked up my cell phone and made the call.
I was lying on the bed with an arm slung across my eyes when Kimberlee came bursting through my wall.
“You can’t do it!”
I just stared at her with my mouth agape.
“I know you have all these ideas about being noble and everything, but this is stupid and I won’t let you do it!”
“Hello to you, too,” I muttered sullenly.
She rushed over and sat beside me on the bed. “I’m serious,” she said—and she looked it. “You can’t turn yourself in. You don’t deserve this.”
“How did you know about that?”
She looked a little abashed. “I heard the other end of the conversation,” she admitted.
“You’ve been spying on Sera?”
“Well, you wouldn’t do it. And I knew there was something going on!”
I sighed.
“Won’t you at least admit I was right?”
“I knew you were right!” I said. “I knew something was going on; it was obvious. The point isn’t that there was or wasn’t anything going on, but that I trusted Sera had a good reason, and I was right.”
“She was spying for Hennigan! There’s no good reason for that!”
I rose to my feet. “Yes, there is! You heard what Sera said, but were you listening? She did this to protect Khail. She loves Khail more than anyone else in the world and was willing to do whatever it took to save him. That’s not something to scorn; it’s something to admire.”
“Admire? She’s siding with him instead of you!”
“He’s her brother.”
“And you’re her boyfriend!”
“Until she finds out,” I groaned, flopping back onto my bed.
She was quiet for a long time. “Why are you doing this? No one could blame you if you didn’t.”
I sat up and looked her in the eye. “Because it’s the right thing to do, Kimberlee.”
“Right according to who?” she asked, her tone plaintive rather than argumentative. “God? Fate? It’s not fair. Khail got caught; let him take the fall. He won’t tell anyone—I know he won’t—so Sera will never know it was you. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do!” I shouted, surprised at my own fervor. “Getting caught isn’t what makes something wrong. Even if Sera never found out, I would know.”
Kimberlee glared at me, almost as if she could use some new ghostly power to change my mind. Then her eyes widened. “But you have a plan, don’t you?” she said quietly. “I mean, in the end this is all a setup. It’s all just part of the plan, right?”
It was hard to look at her. She believed I really was some kind of master planner. I’d gotten lucky before, but really, that was all it was. Luck. And my luck had run out.
“No,” I said. “I don’t have a plan. I . . . I thought I did for a minute, but . . .” I shrugged and then my hands flopped helplessly at my sides. “It’s not going to work.”
“So you’re seriously going to go over to that school tonight and turn yourself in because it’s ‘the right thing to do’?”
It did sound irrational the way she said it, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did anything else. I nodded.
Kimberlee looked at me with a mixture of sadness and pity on her face. Then she straightened up and her mask came back. “You’re crazy,” she said bitterly. “And stupid. I’ve never met anyone as stupid as you.”
Then she turned and left, sliding through the wall and out of sight.
Thirty-Two
TERRIFIED IS THE LEAST OF what I was when I turned into the parking lot at six that night. I could see three cars against the curb near the front entrance and wondered who Hennigan had called for backup.
I pulled right up close and stalled for a few seconds, taking in the scene. Hennigan stood stiffly in front of the main entrance, eyeing my car, but I knew he couldn’t see me through the tinted windows. He started to take a step forward, then stopped, pressed his lips together, and apparently decided to wait for me to make the first move.
Coward.
Beside him, looking a little embarrassed, was our assistant principal, Mrs. Bailey. I knew what she’d gotten back: a homemade frame made by her young son with a family picture inside. I’d be embarrassed to be there if I were her, too.
I did, however, a
lmost laugh at the irony when I saw that the third member of the party—almost certainly summoned against his will—was Coach Creed. I knew from a brief discussion with Khail yesterday that the whole team would be leaving very early the next morning for State. I had no doubt Mr. Hennigan had blackmailed their coach into being here as “the muscle” by threatening his two-time state champion with expulsion if I got away, the same way he’d put pressure on Sera. Coach Creed’s arms were flexed across his chest and, despite the fact that Kimberlee had never stolen anything from Creed, I would bet that given the choice he’d rather strangle Hennigan than me.
I shifted into park and Mr. Hennigan got a very strange mixture of excitement and fear on his face as the engine died. I had just unlatched my seat belt and reached for the door handle when light flashed across my eyes. Another car was pulling into the parking lot.
I couldn’t help but feel nauseous when I saw the row of lights across the top of the black-and-white cruiser as the cop parked just behind Hennigan’s car and stepped out.
I hoped I was doing the right thing.
There was nothing more I could do now. I slid out of my seat, stood, and swung my car door shut.
Hennigan blinked several times. “Mr. Clayson, what are you doing here?”
I reached into the pocket of my hoodie and grabbed what was left of the stickers. I tossed them down in front of me and then added the master key, which tinkled almost melodically. “I said I’d be here, and here I am.”
For a long, tense moment, nobody moved or spoke.
“But . . . but . . .” Hennigan sputtered, “you just moved here.” I could almost see him reviewing our interaction from Monday morning in his head—knowing he’d had the culprit in his grasp. “How could you have stolen everything?”
“I didn’t,” I said, my voice much steadier than my legs. But this would be my only chance to have my say and I was going to. “It was never about stealing. It was about giving things back. You were so focused on what you were sure I’d done wrong you didn’t stop to see what I was trying to do right.”
I knew my words wouldn’t convince Hennigan, but I saw Mrs. Bailey and Coach Creed nodding. The cop didn’t move from his spot beside his cruiser. He was so still I wondered if he was even breathing.