It wasn't until lunch that I had a chance to tell Sam and Kyle what had happened at the hospital. I caught up to the two of them in the cafeteria. Only, as I approached their table with my tray, I realized they weren't alone. Chase was sitting next to Kyle, laughing about something on Kyle's phone.

  I bit my lip. I hadn't seen Chase since the awkward non-date at Pizza My Heart. While I thought I'd played off the I'm-totally-not-overdressed-and-date-ready-for-you thing then, I still felt a blush hit my cheeks as I remembered my foray into Idiotville, thinking he had possibly been interested in me. I took a deep breath, trying to diffuse the heat in my face, and lifted my chin, making as confident strides toward the table as I could.

  Chase spotted me first, but if he had any inkling of my conflicting emotions, he didn't show it. "Hey," he said, scooting his tray over to make room for me.

  I set mine down, doing my best to eradicate the awkward from my voice as I returned his "Hey."

  "Hart, check out the shirts I had made!" Sam said, gesturing to her chest.

  I looked down. Today Sam and Kyle were wearing matching red ones with big gold half-hearts on each.

  "Cute."

  "Oh, wait for the full effect…" She nudged Kyle in the ribs, and he moved in close, putting his arm around her shoulders. Sam put her arm around his back, and with the two of them close together, the two heart halves on their shirts came together to make a whole.

  "Okay, that is actually kinda clever," I admitted.

  Sam beamed. "Ashley Stannic took our picture after second period and said she was putting us in her column as the Herbert Hoover High Honeys of the Week. How cool is that?"

  Chase smirked and shook his head at Kyle. "I can't believe you let her dress you, dude."

  Sam stuck her tongue out at him before turning to me and doing an artful subject change. "So what did Nicky say yesterday?"

  I quickly filled them in while I dug into my platter of chicken nuggets. (Our lunch lady's version of "Wings Wednesday.")

  "So, Nicky's too scared to talk?" Chase asked when I'd finished.

  I nodded. "Yep."

  "But clearly someone is after him."

  I nodded again. "Clearly."

  "The same someone who went after Sydney?" Sam asked.

  I nodded. "Probably."

  "My money's on Connor," Kyle said, nodding. "Sydney gets caught cheating, and Connor's afraid she'll implicate him."

  "Especially after he dumps her and starts dating her rival," Sam pointed out.

  "So, he kills Sydney. Only, Nicky saw him at Sydney's place, so he tries to kill Nicky too," Kyle finished.

  "That's a lot of killing to avoid his name going to the VP," I noted.

  "Dude, Connor's on varsity. That's college on the line. Maybe even the NFL after that."

  "Is he that good?" Chase asked, grabbing a nugget from my plate.

  "Good enough to get a scholarship at least," Kyle replied.

  We all knew what kind of money that meant. Our parents drilled it into us nightly.

  "Well, what about Quinn," I floated. "She's lost out on a possible scholarship already because of Sydney. She got kicked off the lacrosse team."

  "Not to mention she had the hots for Sydney's boyfriend," Sam added. "She gets revenge on Sydney for ratting her out and clears the path to Connor. Or so she thinks."

  "Well, if we're talking revenge, there's also Jenni to consider," I said as Chase reached for another one of my nuggets, and I moved my tray out of his reach. "She and Sydney were rivals for Homecoming Queen, and we know Sydney resorted to some pretty underhanded stuff to win."

  "Like the lice scare," Kyle jumped in.

  "Right. Jenni was the one who alerted Mr. Lipkins that Sydney was cheating in the first place, and she's the one dating Connor now."

  "And don't forget she has a history of revenge," Sam added.

  "A history?" Chase asked.

  Sam quickly filled him in on the story that Jenni had burned her last school to the ground over a bad grade.

  "Who told you this?" Chase asked when she'd finished, a frown between his eyebrows.

  "Quinn," Sam said.

  "And you think you can trust her?" The frown deepened.

  That was a good question.

  "Maybe?" Sam responded. She looked to me.

  I shrugged. "Possibly?"

  "Well, it should be easy enough to find out if it's true," Kyle said. "I mean, all we'd need to do is look at Jenni's disciplinary file in the office, right? Isn't that what Quinn did?"

  "Yeah, but how do we do that?" I asked. "It's not like we can just walk into the administration office and ask to see it."

  "No, we can't," Chase said, frowning in thought still. He paused, eyes going around the table. "We have to sneak in when no one is there."

  * * *

  Chase decided the best time to break into the office was after the staff had gone home for the day. Kyle decided we should all meet up in front of the school, beneath the large oak tree, after dark. Sam decided we should wear black and be sure to give our parents cover stories.

  And I decided they were all nuts.

  While I agreed that Quinn could easily be lying about Jenni's past, I wasn't sure it was worth it to risk our futures just to find out for sure what Jenni was capable of. What if someone saw us? What if the school had alarms on the doors or something? What if Raley decided to do a nighttime drive-by just in case?

  Unfortunately, all my protests fell on deaf ears, and it was clear the three of them would be at the school with or without me. Unless I wanted to be the odd man out, I had little choice but to join them.

  Which, I realized, was easier said than done in the presence of the SMother.

  As soon as school got out, Mom was parked at the curb, windows open, her stereo blasting Aerosmith. I made for the car at a dead run, then slumped down in my seat, shooing her away from the curb before every single person in San Jose heard her screeching power ballads.

  Once home, Mom made me do my homework in the kitchen, where she could "keep an eye on my safety." One macroburger and edamame fries dinner later, I was still trying to figure out how to slip away from the SMother.

  I had snuck out of my room after dark once or twice before, but only in emergencies. There was the one time that I'd hopped out of my bedroom window and the other time I'd gone up into the attic, out that window, and then slid down the roof until I hit the top of Mom's minivan. But Mom had found out about both routes, first installing an alarm on my window, then boarding up the one in the attic. Which left precious few ways out of the house.

  There was one window in Mom's room, but, I realized as I snuck down the hallway to check it out while Mom was in the bathroom, that two story drop was a no-go. A large oak tree grew just a few feet away, but I'd have to be either a spider monkey or Spiderman to reach it from her room.

  Which left just one way out: the front door.

  I waited an agonizing eternity while she cleaned up dinner and tidied the kitchen then sent me upstairs to my room and settled herself in the living room to watch the Cooking Channel with her laptop. I paced my carpeted floor, listening to the muted sounds of the TV, and watched the sun sink lower and lower in the sky, until our backyard was bathed in deep, inky blues.

  I put on a pair of dark jeans, black sweatshirt, and dark sneakers. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun with a couple of pins.

  Then I peeked around the corner of the stairwell.

  Mom was tucked under an afghan on the sofa, her laptop perched on her knees, fingers flying. Then they paused. Mom giggled. Then she began typing again. Paused. Giggled.

  I rolled my eyes. Mom was chatting with Mr. Cyber Wonderful again.

  Mom was way too old to be giggling. It wasn't good for her. Who was this guy she was chatting with anyway? He could be anyone—some sicko, a stalker, a serial killer. While we had regular lectures at our school about cyber safety, I was afraid Mom's generation knew next to nothing.

  On the other hand, the distraction was just what I needed.

  At the base of the stairs sat the kitchen to one side and the living room to the other. At the far end of the living room, a small foyer held some cover at the front door. If I could somehow make it across the entire living room to the foyer without Mom seeing me, it was possible I could open the door without her knowing.

  I breathed deep and took one tentative step down the carpeted stairs. Then I paused, listening for any sounds of protest from Mom. Nothing. I took another and another. I was now completely exposed. If Mom turned around, I was going to have to do some fancy explaining about why I was dressed in all black just to sneak downstairs for a bedtime snack. I quickly stepped down the last of the stairs and ducked to my knees, falling to the floor behind the back of the sofa.

  Mom was just on the other side. I could hear her breathing over the sounds of her keyboard clacking. I purposely made my own breath as shallow as I could, slowly moving one leg then the other, making a snail's pace as I crawled across the room. I could see the front door. I was just a few feet away. If I could cross to it without making a sound, I had a fighting chance of getting out.

  Slowly, painstakingly, I crawled the length of the sofa. At one point, Mom stretched, and I swear I almost had a heart attack. But she didn't turn around, instead laughing out loud at something her cyber guy said.

  So age inappropriate.

  I slowly continued my trek until I hit the end of the sofa. Then I crawled low to the ground toward the door, ducking behind the foyer wall as I reached up for the front knob.

  I turned, one half inch at a time, slowly, waiting until just the right moment, when Mom's hands were noisily typing away, to turn it all the way to the right. Then I pulled the door open an inch and then another, cringing as it squeaked.

  But by some miracle of miracles, Mom was so engrossed in her conversation that she didn't hear it. I took the opportunity and quickly slipped outside, shutting the door with a soft click behind me.

  Then I dashed across the front lawn at sprinter speeds, half expecting Mom to come rushing after me. I didn't stop running until I hit the end of the block.

  Phase One: down. Operation Escape Mom was a success.

  I slowed to a walk, letting my breathing return to normal as I quickly headed toward school.

  Now, on to Phase Two.

  I only hoped that breaking into the high school went as smoothly as breaking out of my house.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Our school was built in the 1920s, decorated with huge stone columns and a neoclassical design that made it look like a cross between the White House and a Roman palace during the day. At night, however, it was lit from below, casting an eerie glow that made it look like a giant white mausoleum squatting in the middle of the street.

  A pair of ancient oak trees flanked the stone building, and as I made my way across the front lawn, I saw Sam, Kyle, and Chase standing under one, Sam dancing nervously from foot to foot.

  "What took you so long?" she asked as I approached their group. True to her word, Sam and Kyle were in matching black hoodies. Chase didn't look a whole lot different than any other day, in black jeans and a black long-sleeved tee.

  "Sorry," I told them. "Had to sneak past Mom."

  "Tell me about it," Sam said, rolling her eyes. "I had to promise my brother Kevin two tubes of cookie dough to distract my parents while I slipped out the back door."

  "Are we ready to do this?" Chase cut in, all business.

  Sam bit her lip, did some more dancing around on the damp grass. "Sorta. Kinda."

  "Sam, this was your idea," I told her.

  "It was Chase's!" she said, pointing a finger. "And it seemed good. At the time."

  "Don't tell me you all dragged me out here and now you're getting cold feet," I said.

  "Well, it's just that…if I get caught, this is going on my permanent record. Plus, I'm pretty sure my dad would kill me."

  "We're not going to get caught," Chase reassured her.

  "How can you be so sure?" I asked.

  "I'll tell you what," Chase said, turning to Sam. "How about you stay here as lookout, okay?"

  I was about to open my mouth to say that we'd be happy to stay here, when Chase continued.

  "Then Kyle, Hartley, and I will go inside the building. That way, if anything goes down, you can bolt. No permanent record blemish."

  Sam looked from Chase to me. "Okay, I'll be lookout. But I'm not bolting. I wouldn't do that to you."

  "I'm not sure Sam should stay here alone," I started, thinking now was a great time to volunteer to look out with her.

  But someone else beat me to it.

  "You're right. I should stay here, too," Kyle said, eyeing the school building.

  I shot Kyle a look. "You're chickening out too?"

  "Dude, I don't think it's safe to leave Sam here alone in the dark. Not after what happened to Nicky."

  I had a feeling that Nicky had been specifically targeted—and since Sam had no idea what had happened to Sydney, she was pretty safe. But it was kinda cute that he was worried about her.

  "I guess that leaves you and me, Hart," Chase said. "Ready to break and enter?"

  I rolled my eyes, said goodbye to my own stain-free permanent record, and sighed. "Fine."

  Step one was simple: get inside the school. Chase and I tried the obvious route first, but as we might have expected, the front doors to the school were firmly locked in place. Lucky for us, there were about a billion other entrances. We circled the main building, coming to the back quad where the ancient Roman part of our school met up with the modern math and science wings. Unfortunately, the first couple of doors I tried in the math wing were locked, too.

  "So, your plan is to try every door on campus on the off chance someone forgot to lock one?" Chase asked.

  I paused, hand on doorknob number five (locked). "I don't have a plan," I shot back. "My plan was to stay at home tonight and watch TV. This was your plan, remember?"

  Chase's white teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he grinned at me. "You're cute when you're testy."

  I clamped my mouth shut, trying not to take that as a compliment.

  "Okay, so the doors are all locked," Chase said, eyes going around the quad. "Now what?"

  "We go home?" I offered.

  "Or," he said, cocking his head at me, "we pick a lock."

  "Pick a lock? How are we going to do—ow!" I protested as Chase reached over and pulled one of the hairpins from my bun. "What was that for?"

  I watched him straighten it out, ruining it from ever holding my blonde locks again. "For picking the lock." He shot me a grin as he held up the slim piece of metal.

  I raised an eyebrow as he stuck it into the keyhole of locked door number five. "Have you done this before?" I asked.

  "Nope." He paused. "Not that I'm admitting to."

  I shook my head, but seeing as his back was turned to me, I allowed myself a little smile. "So, do you know what you're doing?"

  "I watched a YouTube video this afternoon."

  I let the smile turn into an all-out smirk behind him, but he was too intent on the keyhole to notice. Instead, I watched him move the piece of metal up and down, side to side, slowly moving it in any direction it would go. Though as the minutes ticked on, nothing happened and the door remained locked.

  Finally Chase stood back, shaking his head. "The video made it look so easy."

  "Got a plan B?" I asked, glancing around the dark campus. Truth was, I spent most of my life trying to get out of school. Breaking in had never been high on my list of priorities.

  I looked up at the main building. This part of the school was two stories high, though the east and west wings, which had been added on later, were only one story. Behind us sat rows of portables. In all, there were over a hundred classrooms, most dark at this hour.

  Most.

  As I squinted across the quad, I noticed a light in one of the windows of the science wing.

  "There," I said, pointing. "Someone's inside."

  Chase spun around. "I hate to break it to you, but it's probably just the janitor."

  I bit my lip, watching as a figure moved in the room. Right. The janitor. Who was in there mopping experiments gone wrong off the floors, wiping notes off the whiteboards, and taking out the trash. And who probably had a set of keys to get in…

  "He has to get in and out of the building, right? To take out the trash and stuff?"

  Chase nodded. "I guess."

  "So, when he goes in and out, you think he pauses to lock the door behind him each time?"

  A tiny grin played at the corner of Chase's mouth. "I doubt it. He probably just locks everything up when he's done."

  "Which means some of the doors must be unlocked while he's working."

  "Let's go check it out."

  We quickly crossed the quad, staying out of the way of any outdoor lighting, and moved close to the building as we approached the science wing. I ducked under the window with the light on, peeking just my eyes and nose above.

  As we'd guessed, a janitor was in the room—a big guy with buzz cut hair and a pair of coveralls on. He had earbuds in, his mouth moving to the music as he dipped a gray mop into a bucket and swished it along the floor.

  Chase tapped me on the shoulder then pointed to the left. Two windows down there was a door. I nodded, following him as he crouch-walked toward it.

  He stuck a finger to his lips in a silencing motion as he slowly tried turning the knob.

  What do you know? It opened easily in his hand.

  I did a silent "yes" and a fist pump as we slipped inside.

  The hallways were eerily quiet, the only sound a rhythmic ticking of a clock encased in a protective metal cage on the wall. I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the dark as I got my bearings. The good news was that we were inside the school. The bad news was that the admin office was at the front of the building and we were at the back.

  Chase led the way as we slowly walked the length of the corridor and turned right at the end of the hall to enter the main building.