As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see a metal utility shed in front of me and the outline of the top of the math building. I was at the school. If I had to guess, near the swim team's pool.

  And I realized the faint glow of light I'd seen was coming from underneath the door of the utility shed. Someone was inside.

  I moved left then right but realized not only were my hands tied up, but I was tied to something. I craned my head around in the dark, coming up against a starting block. I wriggled back and forth. The bonds at my wrists were some sort of rope, strong and tightly knotted. No way was I going to break them before whoever was in the shed came back. I kicked my legs, twisting, but it was no use. I was stuck there.

  And even worse?

  The door to the utility shed was slowly opening.

  I held my breath, watching as a shadowy figure backlit by the shed emerged. I blinked against the onslaught of light, trying to make out features. But it wasn't until he shut the door again that I was able to see his face clearly.

  I let out a sigh of relief so loud, I swear they heard me all the way in the cafeteria over the blare of the DJ.

  "Mr. Lipkins!" I breathed. "Oh, thank goodness. You've got to help me. Someone hit me over the head and dragged me out here and tied me up, and I think they might have killed Sydney, though I'm not sure, but it's highly possible because I said I was gonna blow the whistle, but I'm not really, 'cause I don't know who they are, but if you untie me we can find them, and we will!"

  I paused for breath, taking in a big gulp of chlorine-tainted air, ignoring the pain at the sound of my own voice echoing through my throbbing head.

  Mr. Lipkins took a step toward me.

  I wriggled, showing him my bound wrists. "Can you see the knots?" I asked.

  He nodded slowly. "Yes."

  "Can you get them undone? Do they look too tight?"

  "They look very tight," he responded, his voice flat.

  "Well, there must be something sharp enough to cut these in the utility shed. A knife or scissors or something? I'm sure if you just go look…"

  But I trailed off as I looked up at his face. It was calm and impassive, definitely not the reaction you'd expect from someone finding a student tied up to a diving block in her Homecoming dress.

  My thoughts must have been plain in my eyes as my throbbing brain struggled to put the pieces together, because the corners of his mouth slowly turned upward, curving into a big, wicked smile that showed off the coffee stains on his incisors in all their glory.

  "You aren't going to untie me, are you?" I asked.

  He shook his head slowly back and forth.

  "Because you're the one who tied me up."

  The grin grew wider as he nodded. "That's the first smart thing you've said, Miss Featherstone."

  Dread hit my stomach in one swift punch. "You hit me over the head."

  He crouched down low, coming to eye level. "I did," he admitted.

  "Just like you hit Nicky?"

  He shrugged, palms upward.

  "And you killed Sydney?"

  "Sydney killed herself," he shot back, anger suddenly flashing through his eyes. "She was stupid and self-absorbed. That's what led to her downfall."

  "But you're the one who committed Twittercide."

  He frowned. "What?"

  "Death while tweeting?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just pushed her into a pool and held her under."

  The calm, plain admission made my stomach roll.

  I looked past Mr. Lipkins, to the school buildings beyond. I could hear the faint sounds of dance music coming from the cafeteria. It was so close but a million miles away for all the good it did me. There was no way anyone could hear me scream from here. My calls for help would be swallowed up long before they could reach the party-goers.

  I was on my own.

  With a murderer.

  "Why did you kill her?" I asked. Not that finding out was my top priority at the moment. But the more time I could buy, the better chance someone might wander this way. Surely there was some couple at the dance who would go looking for a private corner to make out in, right? Possibly near the pool?

  "Why?" Lipkins snorted. "That should be as obvious as any three noncollinear points on a two-dimensional flat surface."

  I blinked at him. "Huh?"

  Lipkins scowled. "A plane! It's plain! Don't you kids ever pay attention in class?"

  I figured that question was rhetorical at this point.

  "Fine," he said. "I'll spell it out for you. I had to shut Sydney up before she could tell everyone what was going on."

  "And what was going on?" I asked, wriggling against my bonds. There was no way the rope was going to give out, but if I could possibly slip my hand through the loop…

  "I should think that would be obvious. I was selling test answers."

  "You!" I shook my head. "I thought Nicky was selling them…" I trailed off, remembering the way Nicky had so strongly protected his "source" for the answers. "Wait, you gave Nicky the answers to all the tests?"

  "I didn't give that punk anything. He worked for me!" he shot back.

  "But why? Why would you give kids the answers?" I was genuinely curious. It seemed like the last thing a teacher would want.

  "Why?" Lipkins repeated, his voice rising. "Why?! Do you know how much I make babysitting ignorant brats like you?"

  I shook my head.

  "Hardly enough to survive on, that's how much. I have a PhD. I graduated at the top of my glass from Cornell. I'm in Mensa! I'm a math genius! And now I spend the majority of my life trying to figure out how to keep texting idiots from stealing test answers."

  "So you decided to give the idiots the answers instead?"

  "Sell," he corrected me. "I'm finally getting what I'm worth. You idiot brats want to go to college? You go through me."

  "So you sold the answers to your own tests?"

  Lipkins nodded. "Mine and everyone else's. It was easy. I had access to anything I wanted in the teachers' lounge."

  "But why involve Nicky?" I asked, feeling my hand slip a scant quarter inch lower in the bonds. If I could work up enough sweat on my wrists, I might have a chance of slipping free.

  "I couldn't very well risk the exposure of selling them myself, now, could I?" Lipkins answered. "I caught Nicky last year trying to cheat on one of my tests. It was one of the more sophisticated attempts I'd ever seen—I'll give him that. He had hacked into my email account and found a copy of the test answers that I'd sent to the administration for compliance with state standards. He'd memorized the answers completely, so there was no proof of anything in the classroom at all."

  I wrinkled my forehead. "So how did you catch him?"

  Lipkins grinned, satisfaction at outsmarting a teen clear on his face. "I gave a different test that day. At the last minute, the vice principal had told me they hadn't gotten the go-ahead from the state on the standards yet, and I ended up giving the old test. Nicky got every single question wrong, but I quickly realized why."

  "And you recruited him to work for you?"

  Lipkins shrugged. "I simply told him he could either make a small percentage working for me, or I would tell the vice principal I'd caught him cheating."

  "So you blackmailed him?"

  Lipkins frowned, his eyebrows hunkering over his eyes as they went dark again. "Don't make it sound like he was innocent here. He was a cheater!"

  "Just like Sydney?" I asked. My right wrist had gone as far as I could slip it, so I started wriggling my left as Lipkins nodded in agreement.

  "Yes. That's right. Only Nicky was smart. Sydney was a moron. It was like she wanted to get caught. Answers on her fingernails?" he asked, waving his own grubby set in my face. "How obvious can you get? Every student within a three-desk radius saw what she was doing."

  "Including Jenni Pritchard," I said, pieces falling into place. "So when Jenni tattled on Sydney, you couldn't very well ignore it."

  Lipkins pursed his lips together. "No. I couldn't. I had to take it to the VP or else Pritchard and every other student who'd heard her accusation would complain."

  "But weren't you worried Sydney was going to blow the whistle on you?"

  "What whistle? She had no idea who I was." He paused. "Until you started asking questions."

  I gulped. "Me?" I squeaked out.

  He nodded. "As soon as you started nosing around, Sydney did, too. She knew the school board was investigating, and she somehow figured out that it was Nicky who had sold her the answers. She asked around and said that cheerleader girlfriend of Nicky's told her how often Nicky visited my classroom. Sydney knew Nicky didn't have my class, and she put it together."

  Which, if I hadn't been so focused on Sydney's personal life, I might have too. Who had the easiest access to the teachers' lounge where the answers were kept? Teachers.

  "Sydney told you this?" I asked.

  He nodded. "She called me and said that if I didn't get her reinstated on the Homecoming Court, she was going to make sure everyone at the school knew all about my involvement."

  The blackmailer becomes the blackmailee. Nice move. I had to say, it didn't sound like Sydney was as dumb as Mr. Lipkins had thought after all.

  "That's why Sydney agreed to meet with me," I surmised. "She was going to use me and the paper to out you to everyone?"

  Lipkins nodded. "She said if I didn't get her back on the court, she was going to tell you everything. But that was impossible! I mean, I don't have that kind of clout with the administration. There was no way I could get her reinstated after what she did."

  "So you had to stop her from talking to me," I said, a shiver running down my bare arms.

  He nodded his head slowly up and down. "I had too much of a good thing going. I was finally making good money. I wasn't going to let some entitled bimbo take that away from me."

  "So you went to her house?"

  "She was in the backyard. Tanning, of all things! Made suspension look more like a vacation than a punishment to me." He shook his head. "I tried to talk to her. To tell her I didn't have the authority to get her back on the Homecoming Court. I told her I'd pay her off, make it worth her while to keep her mouth shut."

  "But she didn't go for it?"

  "She said all she cared about was being Homecoming Queen."

  "So you killed her?"

  He nodded, an eerie light in his eyes. "I had to. She left me no choice. If the truth had gotten out, I'd have been fired." He let out a small laugh that held zero humor. "I wouldn't have even been able to get a job teaching kindergarten."

  "You pushed her into the pool and held her under?"

  He grinned, showing off those grotesquely stained teeth again.

  I shivered, imagining how her last moments must have been. Had she felt the water flowing into her paralyzed lungs? Or had she died instantly, one minute here and the next just…not?

  "And now," Mr. Lipkins said, taking a step toward me, "it's time to tie up the last little loose end."

  I watched in horror as Mr. Lipkins' eyes changed. Gone was the anger I'd seen when he'd talked about how he was an underpaid, underappreciated teacher and the disdain when he spoke about the ignorance of his current students. This was something different. Something dead, flat, and calm and more eerily menacing than anything I'd ever seen.

  Anxiety balled into pure panic in my stomach, making my body move and squirm all on its own.

  "Um, you know what? I'm no loose end. I'm hardly an end at all. You see, I'm not into being Homecoming Queen, or getting cash, or anything like that. I'm totally just into being quiet. Not talking. Not telling anyone about anything. I can be totally quiet. See?" I shut my mouth, illustrating my point.

  Lipkins shook his head. He was so not buying this.

  And I was so out of time.

  I wriggled my wrists as he rounded the starting block, coming up behind me. The left one slipped a little. I'd worked out some slack in the rope. But it still held tight.

  "You won't get away with this," I said, changing tactics. "Someone will notice I'm gone. They'll come looking for me."

  Speaking of which—where the heck was Chase? How long would he wait before realizing I wasn't just in the bathroom? How long had I been out? How long would it take him to figure out I was here, on campus still, by the pool with a Twittercidal maniac?

  Though, I realized as Mr. Lipkins began to separate my bound wrists from the board, it didn't matter. I was out of time altogether.

  "What are you going to do?" I asked, my voice shaking.

  He didn't answer, instead pulling me up off the ground by my still-bound-together hands. I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but for someone who spent the majority of his life sitting behind a desk, he was surprisingly strong. And as he steered me toward the edge of the pool, a horrific realization dawned on me.

  He was going to throw me in.

  "Wait, you can't do this," I said, doing my best to dig my heels into the cement. "Please, I swear I won't tell anyone what you've been up to," I pleaded.

  "Too late," Lipkins said, his hands gripping both my arms as he pushed me forward.

  I did the only thing I could think of. I went limp, playing noncompliant toddler and sagging to the ground at the side of the pool.

  "Help!" I yelled, being dead weight to the best of my abilities. "Help! Someone help me!"

  "No one can hear you," Lipkins said, towering over me, hands on his corduroy-encased hips. "They're all enjoying their stupid dance."

  Which was where, more than anything, I wanted to be. Dancing, laughing, where I'd been just a few minutes ago but now felt an entire world away. Had that been the last time I'd ever see my friends? Sam and Kyle? Chase?

  "Help!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Even though I knew Lipkins was right. There was no way my volume could compete with the DJ's. No one would hear me. No one would run to the rescue.

  I was on my own. And if I was going to get out of this alive, I was going to have to save myself.

  Mr. Lipkins leaned down, putting both hands under my armpits to lift me off the ground.

  It was now or never.

  I took a deep breath…

  …and head butted him in the nose as hard as I could.

  "Uhn!" Mr. Lipkins reeled backward, his hands going to his face.

  I took the opportunity to pop up to my feet, hopping like a bunny toward the gate that encircled the pool. Only, since Lipkins had two separated feet, he quickly recovered and caught up to me. I felt him shove at my back, hard enough that we both fell to the ground.

  I rolled to the right, bringing my feet up and kicking as hard as I could, catching him squarely in the chest. I heard the wind whoosh out of his lungs. I inch-wormed myself into a sitting position, pulling my legs up and under me to awkwardly get back on my feet.

  I got one hop away before Lipkins' hairy-knuckled hand grabbed the rope at my ankles, pulling me backward and down to the ground again.

  I fell hard, both knees scraping against the cement as I landed with a thud that slammed my teeth together. I wriggled and kicked backward with both feet as hard as I could, connecting with something soft and fleshy.

  Lipkins grunted but kept a hand on my ankles.

  "Let. Go. Of. Me," I ground out.

  "Not on your life," he growled back, regaining his breath and pulling himself up onto his knees.

  Right at the edge of the pool.

  I scrunched myself up into a fetal position, cocking my knees as close to my chest as I could, then shoved hard with both feet.

  My extra high heels caught Lipkins in the stomach, doubling him over in the middle. I kicked again, connecting with his forehead, and watched as he toppled backward, hitting the water with a splash that sent water sloshing over the side of the pool.

  I didn't waste any time, immediately popping up to my feet, kicking off the heels, and hopping toward the gate again.

  I heard Lipkins sloshing around in the water. His clothes slowed him down, but it wouldn't be long before he found his way to the side and out onto dry land again. I had to move fast.

  I hopped as quickly as I could, only vaguely aware of how ridiculous I must have looked. I made it to the side gate just as I heard Lipkins climbing out of the pool.

  I pushed on the gate, but it was firmly latched in place. Not only that, but a shiny silver lock gleamed back at me in the moonlight.

  I felt desperation bubble up in my throat as I whipped my head around for any sign of a key. But it was too late. I could hear Lipkins' wet footsteps moving the length of the pool. In an instant, his arms encircled me from behind, wet, rigid, and as unyielding as steel.

  "No!" I cried out, feeling tears well up behind my eyes as he ruined any hope of escape, dragging me toward the water.

  "Please, I—"

  But that was as far as I got in my pleading because, without ceremony, Lipkins tossed me over the edge, into the deep end of the pool.

  Cold water instantly enveloped me, hitting my body like a shock. I kicked my legs, wiggled from side to side, moving anything I could. Frigid water pressed in on me from all sides, and I felt myself sink lower and lower.

  Panic coursed through my system, and I fought the urge to scream as I watched the surface of the pool grow farther and farther away. I could just make out the blurry figure of Mr. Lipkins walking away.

  Leaving me there to drown in a watery grave.

  I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks in the freezing water. I thrashed, the ropes cutting into my wrists until they burned like they were on fire. I kicked, my feet coming up against something hard. The bottom of the pool. I shoved with all my might, shooting up toward the surface…but I fell short, only managing to move a couple feet through the thick water.

  That felt like it was growing thicker and heavier by the second, closing my vision down to one small pinpoint of light as my eyes grew heavy. My lungs were screaming for air, burning, feeling as if they were going to burst any second. I wasn't sure how much longer I could resist the urge to open my mouth and drag the heavily chlorinated water into my body, filling my lungs until I drowned.