Payback, page 5
I don’t know.
Heat rises in my cheeks. I have a plan to get through today. A plan to gather Vale Hall’s expelled students and for us to take our stories public so we can bring down Dr. O. A plan to call Caleb as soon as I get a free minute to run upstairs and grab the burner phone. But I have no idea what I want to do after that.
I’m not particularly good at anything but conning.
Shrew moves closer and rests her flag-clad hands on my shoulders. I stiffen, unsure if she’s going to try to shake me. She isn’t particularly soft when it comes to delivering bad news.
That’s kind of why I like her. She doesn’t pretend things are fine when they’re not.
She doesn’t lie.
“It’s time to start thinking about these things,” she says, in a way that makes me want to forget about resistance headquarters and focus on that original plan that drove me to Vale Hall in the first place: getting out of this messed-up city.
“I will help you get anywhere you want,” she tells me. “But you have to give me a direction. Do you like the literature we’ve read? The environmental studies section we did? Anything related to history or business? I know you’ve done well in Mr. Moore’s Vocational Development class. I don’t love the idea of you going that direction, but maybe something in acting? Geri’s lining up college visits already. Theater is always an option.”
I didn’t know Geri was doing this, and knowing she’s got the jump on me makes my jaw tighten like I’ve just eaten something sour. But it also reminds me of another actor that went through this school. Damien Fontego.
Will he side with us when Dr. O leaves the school?
I can’t think about college while the director still has the power. While he’s leveling up to the U.S. Senate, and Caleb and Margot are on the streets, and any of us might be cut loose or offed by a hit man.
“Think about it,” Shrew tells me. “We’re going to revisit this soon. I want you to think of three interests before then.”
“Okay,” I say. And then, because it seems like she does actually care, I add, “Thanks.”
A rare glimmer lights her eyes. “Don’t make me regret believing in you.”
I try to make a quick exit, but between the news and our little run-in with Grayson, it’s already time for class. Sam and Henry are the first to arrive, Grayson following with a smirking Geri beside him. The sight of them makes me uneasy. That’s an alliance I wouldn’t trust if the world depended on it.
Normally we’re separated by year, but because of the UN activity, all twenty-nine students are present today. The crowd is a good distraction for me to sneak out and warn Caleb about Dr. O’s new play, but as I walk by Paz and Joel, I run straight into Min Belk.
He’s my least favorite of the two security guards, and not just because he gave me a B in last summer’s ballroom dancing section of PE. He’s as loyal as a bloodhound, and anything he sees or hears is delivered straight to the director.
“Going somewhere?” he asks.
I jolt back. “I … um … forgot to brush my teeth.”
“Ew,” says Paz over one shoulder.
“I was in a hurry,” I tell her. Which is true, but now that I’ve brought that fact to light I’m extremely aware of my own dragon breath and cover my mouth with one hand.
“Here.” Behind Belk stands the newest addition to our student body. June is taller than me by several inches, and is wearing black boots, black jeans, a black corset over a black long-sleeved tee, and enough black eyeliner to rival Cleopatra.
She fishes a box of mints out of her backpack and tosses them to me.
Belk smiles.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Here to serve,” she tells me, reminding me of how we first met at a restaurant when she was a pocket-picking waitress, and I was running game on Matthew Sterling’s staff.
“That guy’s a ray of sunshine.” She motions toward Belk, now moving tables where Shrew points. “His vocational development class is about as much fun as a kick to the face.”
Over the past month, Vale Hall has implemented its conning curriculum, though with several notable changes. The first is that Min Belk has taken over for Moore, a fact which none of us is particularly delighted by. The second is that all materials and readings relate to sales, and marketing yourself, and other perfectly legitimate career advice, even if the underlying point is that we’ll use this knowledge to do exactly what Dr. O wants.
I glance across the room to Grayson again. Though he comes to the other classes, he never attends Vocational Development. I guess that’s because he’s already mastered the skills. He conned me from the start.
“Yesterday Belk told me I’d stand out less on a job if I changed my makeup,” June says, dabbing a finger at the corner of her dark painted lips. “It’s a shame he was so distracted by the way I looked.” She lifts her wrist and pulls up her sleeve, flashing Belk’s bulky silver watch she undoubtedly lifted without his knowledge.
I grin, thinking of the meeting last night at the train yard. Maybe June would be a good asset to the resistance.
“Watch yourself around him,” I say.
Her gaze holds mine for a moment, then darts away. “Watching myself around all of you, but thanks.”
She saunters off toward Joel, then glares at him until he gives her his seat.
Charlotte hurries in, toting my messenger bag over one shoulder. She’s already put my UN research binder inside, and when I reach for it, I find a protein bar too.
“What was that all about with you-know-who?” she whispers, pulling me toward one of the seats at the table marked “Australia.”
I glance around her to where Grayson, Geri, Alice, and Beth have clustered at another table. They’re all laughing as he waves the blue and white flag in the air.
It feels wrong. The first time I saw him he was a loner, barely acknowledging those he’d invited to a party at his own house. Now I can’t tell if that was the real Grayson, or this is.
“Nothing,” I tell her, straightening the red, white, and blue Australian flag we pulled out of Shrew’s UN box last week. “He was just trying to embarrass Henry.”
“He’s such a jerk.”
“I can think of better descriptors.” Sam joins us, Henry at his side.
“I want to attack Switzerland,” Henry announces. The fierce determination on his face sets off a new alarm in my brain.
My gaze flicks to Grayson, who’s now tucking the Swiss flag behind Geri’s ear.
Henry’s fists clench around his laptop.
“That’s aggressive,” says Charlotte. “But I’m in. Do we have nuclear bombs?”
“No one attacks Switzerland,” Sam tells us. “Switzerland is neutral.”
“Switzerland is definitely not neutral,” I say. With Grayson and Geri on board, I’d be surprised if this entire Model UN didn’t end in the third world war.
“We’ll take them down,” Sam assures us. “Just wait until we get to communications technology in industrial development or the growing demands of sustainable energy.” He laughs.
Henry and I stare blankly at him.
“I love it when you talk dirty,” Charlotte says.
Sam winks at her, making her giggle.
“What did Shrew want this morning?” He lowers his voice, focusing the conversation my way.
I’m about to tell them about the whole what-do-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up inquisition when I catch a glimpse of the NYU emblem on the sweatshirt Charlotte’s wearing. Sam’s going to be an engineer; he once told me he’s known since he was seven. Charlotte’s always wanted to go to law school. She wants to help kids like her, and prosecute those who try to hurt them. Even Henry announced a few months ago that he wants to be a social worker. If he gets his master’s in it, he can even be a therapist.
Maybe plans have been changed due to the baby, and our precarious situation with Dr. O and Grayson, but at least they had plans. I can’t see anything beyond right now.
Nerves crackle just beneath my collarbones.
“Nothing,” I say. “She had a question about my physics quiz.”
Charlotte frowns.
“Good morning, Ravens. Welcome back to the prep stage of Vale Hall’s Model UN,” Shrew announces, more pep in her voice than should be legal for anyone talking about diplomacy. “Let’s get to work on those research binders. We need facts. History. Treaties, conventions, and resolutions. It’s our last day for exploration. Opening statements start tomorrow morning—that’s when stuff gets real, as you kids like to say.” Joel gives her a fist bump as she walks by. “Remember, the country awarded the highest marks will be the next proud caretakers of our favorite mascot.”
“So I’ll just keep Petal in my room then?” Geri asks sweetly.
Vale Hall’s prized silver, spray-painted piggy bank has traded hands many times over my months at Vale Hall, but has been residing in Geri’s room for the last two months since Henry handed her over. He couldn’t stand keeping her after his ballroom dancing victory with Grayson.
With Petal on the line, everyone is quick to get to work. Voices rise as people open their laptops and begin searching for useful research for the coming days. I’ve just taken out my binder when Ms. Maddox, our nosy housekeeper, enters the room, pushing a fancy silver cart topped with mugs of what looks like steaming coffee.
Shrew approaches her, and after reading a note on the tray, snorts and motions for Ms. Maddox to pass out the drinks.
“Students, it seems that Switzerland has already chosen to begin negotiations with a peace offering. Swiss hot chocolate, to help you conduct your research.”
At Switzerland’s table, Alice and Beth exchange a high five as Geri smiles victoriously down at her binder. Grayson leans back in his chair, fingers woven behind his head, but when he grins our way, there’s a strain around the corners of his eyes that doesn’t match his team’s delight.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was an actual apology.
“Why is he torturing me?” Henry groans. “He knows I love hot chocolate!”
Irritation heats the back of my neck as Grayson raises a mug in our direction. Whatever flash of worry I thought I saw is gone now, and all that remains is a smug look of satisfaction.
“Sam,” I say, “we have to destroy Switzerland.”
* * *
I DON’T HAVE another free, unmonitored moment until after lunch, when I fake a trip to the bathroom to duck into my room and grab the burner phone. I haven’t called Caleb on it before; we said it was only for emergencies.
Dr. O has rigged the game to become a U.S. senator, and is using Caleb’s old mark to do it. This feels like an emergency to me.
I quietly lock the door behind me. Ms. Maddox is downstairs prepping dinner, and Belk is teaching the underclassmen PE. Moore is taking someone to a job in the city, but I’m not worried about him. It’s the other two who are always listening.
My palms are damp as I reach for my copy of A Tale of Two Cities on my bookshelf beside the desk. It looks like any of the other books Shrew has assigned since I’ve been here, nothing anyone should notice if they happened to snoop around. As I open the cover I take a few seconds to flip through the drawings Caleb did last summer. Pictures of buildings he’s seen and wants to see. Pictures of me that morph over the pages into graceful towers and fountains.
A knot ties in my throat.
I flip to the back of the book, where I’ve cut out a block of pages and hidden the small black phone inside. It takes only a moment to turn on.
No messages. No missed calls. I check every night before bed—that was our agreement. Caleb leaves his phone on—no one cares if he’s carrying a burner—but if I get caught, I’m in trouble.
I need to hurry. If Shrew doesn’t notice I’m gone soon, one of my classmates will.
My fingers dial the numbers I’ve repeated in my head a hundred times.
It rings once. Twice.
“Answer,” I mutter.
Caleb picks up before it can ring a third time.
“Hello?” He’s out of breath.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Brynn.”
The way he says my name makes my throat tighten, even as my pulse slows. There’s not an hour that passes I’m not scared something bad might be happening to him, and hearing his voice, even under these circumstances, is a relief.
“What happened?” he asks. “Are you all right? Where are you?”
“Here,” I whisper, hurrying into the closet. I know the doors aren’t soundproof, but I slide them closed anyway. “At school. I’m fine.” My arm sweeps to form a gap in my hanging clothes and I sink to the floor, back against the wall.
“Henry? Charlotte and Sam?”
“They’re fine. Did you see the news?”
He blows out a breath. “Yeah. I saw.”
I can picture him raking a hand through his black hair.
“Can you believe it?” I whisper. “Do you think this was his plan when he sent you in with Camille?”
“I don’t know.” His voice sags with regret. Caleb may be good at conning, but his moral compass points truer than the rest of ours. He always felt bad about hurting the mayor’s daughter, even after she sent the Wolves after him.
Caleb’s moving. I can hear the click of a door, and then the rush of traffic outside. “If I didn’t know him better, I’d say Dr. O was improvising. You said he was surprised when Sterling was arrested, right?”
“Yes.” I remember right after the cops took him to jail. Dr. O called me into his office, demanding I tell him if I had anything to do with it.
Henry and Grayson were off the hook. The director might have suspected their involvement afterward, but he never questioned Henry, and as far as I know he didn’t talk to Grayson either.
“All he ever told me was that he wanted Mayor Santos out of the picture. He said she was corrupt. Once I saw her meeting the Wolves, I figured he was right.” A siren on his end grows louder, then fades. “Now I’m wondering if he set those meetings up. For all we know, Sterling’s Senate seat might always have been the endgame, and he just played us all to make it happen.”
Caleb’s right—this doesn’t sound like improvisation at all. It sounds like deliberate scheming.
“You all have to be careful,” Caleb says. “He had a ton of freedom as the director, but people will be watching him once he takes the Senate seat. If any of you step out of line—”
“We’re done, I know.”
We’re both quiet a moment, imagining what that looks like.
“How are you?” I ask him, my voice thin.
“Okay. Not bad. I mean, considering.” He gives a rough laugh. “Actually, I had some good luck.”
“Yeah?”
“I went to pay rent this morning and Joe said not to worry about it—until summer.”
I picture the old man who owns the bowling alley where Caleb lives and works. He’s crotchety on a good day. I wouldn’t exactly take him for the charity type.
“He’s letting you work it off?”
“No, he’s still paying me. He said he had more leagues sign up than usual, and I should save my money.”
I don’t buy it.
“You don’t think he’s lying, do you? No one knows where you are?”
“If they did, I doubt they’d be paying my rent.”
Fair point. But it still doesn’t feel right.
“Maybe you should move, just in case. We have an assignment for conning class—how to get something for free without stealing it. I can say I’m practicing tomorrow. We can look for a new apartment.”
Grayson’s words whisper in the back of my head. People are starting to notice.
It doesn’t matter. If Caleb’s in trouble, I’ll be there.
“I’m all right,” he says softly. “Thanks, though.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
“I was actually going to call you,” he adds. “Margot’s … not feeling great.”
My chest clenches. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s just … cold at HQ. She needs a place to crash.”
Headquarters. I imagine the drafty train car at the abandoned lot. It’s a step up from Margot’s last apartment—a shared studio next to the bus depot she was afraid to go home to.
“Right.” I know Caleb will look out for her, but something about his tone has me waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“She’s not going to make it to the Wolves rally in Mason tomorrow night.”
The plan to make contact with Dylan Prescott, aka Charlie McGinnis, flashes through my head.
“Hold on,” I say, reading between the lines. “That doesn’t mean you’re going alone, right?”
“It’s not going to be a big deal,” he assures me. “It’s not a closed party—there’ll be lots of people there who aren’t members. I’ll wait until Dylan’s alone, and—”
“Nope.” I’m shaking my head. “Not a chance, Matsuki. You may not remember last time you crossed paths with the Wolves, but I do. Probably because I didn’t have a concussion.”
I shiver, recalling too easily the night he called me down to the pit. His face and ribs were a mess of bruises and cuts. His lip was sliced and swollen. His glasses were in pieces.
This might be a different charter, the man responsible for Caleb’s attack might be in jail, but I’d just as soon chew off my own foot than let Caleb go alone.
“You and Henry were just out. Sam’s got his hands full, and none of us want Charlotte risking more than she has to.”
“What about Raf?” I ask. Renee isn’t ready; she’s still too scared.
“Have you seen the guy? He’s a ticking time bomb.”
He’s right. Forget the bruises and injuries, Raf looks like he’s waiting for another fight. Bringing him to a motorcycle gang’s party isn’t a smart idea.
This is why we need more allies, like Henry said.
“What’s wrong with Margot? How do you know she won’t be ready by tomorrow night?”
“She won’t be,” says Caleb, in a firm, protective way that puts me even more on edge.
“Then it’s me.” I push myself up off the wall. “I’m going with you.”
