“I don’t need you to totally reprogram the machine,” Jackson said. “I just need you to break it.”
“Sure,” Hashemi said. “Breaking is easy.”
“We’re also going to need communication equipment,” Jackson said. “Something that allows us all to talk to each other and that’s easy to hide. Can you handle that, too?”
“By Friday?” Hashemi opened a new browser on the laptop. “The hardware won’t be a problem, but setting up the right software might be a little tricky. Maybe I can use some of the programming from the universal translator.”
Jackson moved his cup of tea and picked up the MAPE, which had been serving as a coaster. “Bradley, see if you can get me a copy of the main office key so I can create another bump key. I’ll take care of getting a new machine.”
“Where will we get the money?” Bradley asked.
“Let me worry about that,” Jackson said. He walked away from the group, with Charlie a few steps behind him.
“What?” Jackson asked. “I know you’re worried about money, but I can tap into my savings —”
“Forget about the money for a second,” Charlie said. “We need an Eckersley.”
“A closer? For who?”
“Who do you think?” Charlie looked over his shoulder. “Hash is in over his head. That’s a lot of work for him to do by the end of the week.”
Jackson leaned against the wall. “Megan?”
“She could help out during the actual heist as well. She’d be a much better White Rabbit than me or Bradley. And the word is she got a big birthday check from her grandmother last month. Given the right motivation, I bet she’d be happy to spend it.”
Jackson glanced at Hashemi, his body hunched over his laptop. “I don’t know….”
“Come on, Jackson. Stop being a hypocrite. How can you ask Gaby to forgive you when you can’t even forgive Megan?”
Jackson groaned. “You love bringing your sister into this, don’t you?” He stared at the MAPE, then at Hashemi. “Okay, but she’s backup only. Hash gets a chance to pull this off first. And she has to prove she can keep her mouth shut before we bring her onto the team.”
Charlie nodded. “Sounds fair.”
“And you know Mariano Rivera is a better closer than Eck ever was.”
Charlie covered his ears. “Don’t ever say that around my dad. He might not let you back into the house.”
Jackson laughed. “You mind calling Ray about the machine? I need to talk to Hashemi.” He shuffled the MAPE from his left hand to his right. “I just realized there’s something else I need him to break.”
S. —
Just got a text from Traci. AJ dumped Brandy last night. Right before the formal. She already had her dress and everything. Boo hoo. Cry me a river. That’s what she gets.
— A.
Megan read the note once more, then looked around. She was sure it had been slipped into her locker by accident, but there was no telling who it was intended for. Sara McGill had the locker next to hers, and Summer Goldberg was two lockers beyond that.
She placed the note in her back pocket and grabbed her books. This wasn’t the only strange message she’d received this month. When she had found a note in her bag saying that Stewart had gotten his copy of Ultimate Fantasy IV from Keith Sinclair, she hadn’t wanted to believe it. But when she asked Stewart, he couldn’t even look at her as he tried to fumble his way through a lie. Keith Sinclair was a sworn enemy of the Tech Club — not even UF IV could change that.
(And she had not been this close to kissing Stewart, despite what he and his idiot friends thought.)
She slipped into her desk and read the note again. There was nothing like being the first one with hot gossip to share — especially when it involved someone as cruel as Brandy Atkinson. Brandy was the meanest girl at school, maybe even meaner than Keith. No one would shed a tear for her if AJ had dumped her.
“What are you reading?”
Megan clutched the note to her chest. “Nothing.”
Emily, her best friend, smirked. “Doesn’t look like nothing,” she said as she reached for the note. “Let me see —”
“No! I can’t. It’s not —”
“Come on, Meg. It must be juicy. You’re practically drooling.”
Megan shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She shoved the note into her book bag. “Forget you even saw it.”
Megan kept her ears and eyes open, hoping for any clue about AJ and Brandy. While the couple usually ate lunch together, come noon, AJ was nowhere to be seen. Later, as Megan passed her locker, she saw Brandy whispering to her best friend. Brandy’s eyes may have been red, but Megan wasn’t sure.
Megan was beginning to wonder if she should have said something to Emily. Em and the Drama Club always had the inside scoop. Surely they would know what was going on.
But Megan also knew what had happened the last time she had blabbed about something that didn’t concern her. She was still trying to make up for that one.
At the end of the day, just before she reached her locker, she saw AJ and Brandy walking down the hall, hand in hand, blatantly ignoring Dr. Kelsey’s PDA rules. She opened her locker to find another note.
Congratulations. You passed. Meet me by the swings at the Fitz at 3:30 p.m. if you want the entire story.
— J.
“I should have known you were behind this,” Megan said as she sat down at a picnic table across from Jackson. “You’re the only guy I know who sends handwritten notes.”
“It wasn’t just me,” Jackson said. “I had a little help from Charlie and Hash — they found a way to delay AJ during lunch —”
“You dragged Hashemi into this?” She balled her hands into fists.
“It was a test. A leap of faith, as Charlie would call it. By the way, I’m sure Brandy and AJ thank you for not spreading any rumors about them.”
“Not cool, Jackson. I’ve been trying to apologize for months —”
“I know, but —”
“Let me finish!” Megan said. “Every time I tried to apologize, you looked like you’d rather chew glass than talk to me. I can’t even look at Gaby without feeling guilty. And now you decide to make fun of me by playing some prank?”
“It wasn’t a —”
“You’re just as bad as Keith!” she yelled. “No, you’re worse. You’re a … a … a DenIb Qatlh!”
“But I — wait. What did you call me?”
“A Denebian slime devil,” Megan said. “In Klingon.”
“Didn’t know the school offered that language elective,” Jackson mumbled. “Look, I’m sorry, but I had to know that I could trust you. And now I do.” He placed his notebook on the table. “Don’t you want to know why Keith gave Stewart the game? Why Stewart dropped out of the election? How this affects the Tech Club?”
“The Tech Club?” Megan planted her hands on the table. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
So he did.
Afterward, he sat there, watching Megan’s face become redder and redder as she ranted about Stewart and Keith. Jackson was a bit surprised by the … flavor of her word choices. He was almost glad that half of her words were in Klingon.
“I wish I could have told you some of this sooner. There’s just too much at stake.”
“At stake?” She clicked her teeth. “You’ve got a plan. You want to take Keith down, don’t you?”
“Absolutely. Do you want to help?”
“Absolutely.”
Jackson scribbled out Hashemi’s address and handed it to her. “Meet us here in an hour. Be sure to bring your birthday money.”
Hashemi could barely speak. Standing inches away from him was Megan Feldman. Tech Club president. Cheerleader. Goddess.
“So is this why you’ve been missing Tech Club meetings?” she asked.
“You noticed?”
“Of course,” she said. “No one can describe warp core theory like you.”
“Um …”
Jackson stepped between
Hashemi and Megan, then placed his hand under Hashemi’s chin and snapped his drooling mouth shut. “Megan, do you know Bradley?” Jackson asked. “You can thank him for delivering all those anonymous messages.”
After the introductions, Bradley glanced toward the door, wedged open to let air into the suddenly hot shed. “Are you sure it’s safe to meet here?” he asked.
“Keith thinks he has us beat,” Charlie replied. “He doesn’t have any reason to watch us anymore.”
Jackson chuckled. “And, you know, we changed the locks.”
“So what’s the plan?” Megan asked.
Jackson picked up his cup of tea. “Hashemi. The list.”
Hashemi’s hand trembled as he handed her the sheet of paper. “As long as we have all these items by tomorrow, I should have enough time to rig everything.”
She glanced over the list. “What’s a not-a-Scantron machine?” she asked. She looked at Jackson, then at Hashemi. “What are you guys up to?”
Hashemi blinked in reply.
“Charlie, why don’t you and Bradley go over the list with Megan, just to make sure we haven’t missed anything? I need to talk to Hashemi about the machine.”
As Charlie and Bradley led Megan away, Jackson sat on the stool across from Hashemi. “You’re acting like you’ve never spoken to her before.”
“I don’t speak to her. Not in Tech Club meetings. Not anywhere. I just sit and stare.”
“But she likes the same types of things you like. You two should have plenty to talk about.”
Hashemi removed his glasses and wiped away the sweat that had collected on the frames. “Knowing my luck, she’ll fall head over heels for you by the time this is all over.”
“She’s cute, but she’s not my type.” Jackson finished his tea. “She doesn’t play enough basketball.”
Gaby stood backstage, her speech folded into a tight square in her hands. She didn’t need the paper — she had read it enough times to memorize it. It was full of figures and facts and all the information necessary to help her fellow students make an informed decision.
It was also as boring as ketchup flowing out of a bottle.
So while the candidates for historian, then treasurer, then secretary, and then vice president took the stage, Gaby remained as far from the podium as possible, mumbling to herself, walking back and forth along the backstage wall.
Finally, Carmen jumped in front of her. “Keep walking like that and you’ll ruin those fancy new shoes of yours.”
Gaby looked at her feet. The heels still made her feel off-balance, but they were low enough that she didn’t feel like she was about to fall on her face. They were plain navy blue with little silver buckles — nothing like the pair that Tia Isabel had forced onto her for the formal last year.
“Don’t sweat it,” Carmen said. “You know that speech back and forth.”
Rule Number Two popped into Gaby’s head. Stay cool under pressure. A rattled crew is a mistake-prone crew. She was sure that applied to Student Council candidates as well.
Gaby glanced toward the stage when she heard clapping. “Keith’s next. I bet he’ll say everything I’m going to say.”
Carmen snatched the paper from Gaby’s hand. “Then say something different.”
“Hey, give that back.”
Carmen quickly scanned the speech. “Everyone out there’s been beaten over the head with facts. At this point, they either believe them or they don’t.” She handed the paper back to Gaby. “Keith is going to give them a lot of promises about what he’s going to do. Remind them of what you’ve already done.”
Gaby looked at the speech. “But if I cut all the facts, my speech won’t be long enough.”
Carmen laughed. “They just listened to seven other kids babble on. Believe me, shorter is better.” She looped her arm around Gaby’s. “Come on. It’s almost time.”
Gaby felt herself leaning on Carmen as they approached the stage. She could see Keith at the podium, his entire body bathed in yellow light. He even held up his thumb like a real politician.
Gaby glanced at the speech once more. Then she handed it to Carmen.
“You sure?” Carmen asked.
Gaby nodded.
Carmen patted her on the shoulder as Keith finished his speech. “Good luck.”
Instead of looking out at the crowd, Gaby stared at the podium as she crossed the stage, focusing on the click of her heels against the polished hardwood. She heard one clap, then two, then three, and then, all at once, a sea of applause.
It took a second for her to realize that they were cheering for her.
She reached the podium and adjusted the microphone. She couldn’t see into the crowd, but she knew that Omar and Lynne and Fiona and Charlie were in the audience.
She figured Jackson was there as well, cheering just as loud.
“I know you all have been sitting there for a while, so I’ll make this short and sweet and to the point.”
“Amen,” someone called out.
She smiled. “I can recite all the facts and figures about where we are as a school and about where I think we need to go. You’ve seen these facts — they’re on all the fliers I passed out, and they’re on all my posters. The facts are clear — Maplewood is a great school with a great student body. But we can be better. And I’m not just talking about improving the athletics or academics. Student Council doesn’t exist just for the benefit of the basketball team or the Debate Team. Student Council is here for the entire school.
“I’m sure you’ve heard other candidates talk about what they plan to do once they’re elected. I’m going to talk about what I’ve already done.” She looked down at herself. “Despite the skirt and shoes, you guys know who I am. I’m the same girl now that I was last year, and the year before that. I’m the girl who chased every loose ball in every basketball game I played. I’m the girl who cheers for the football team — no matter the score — and the Chess Team, even if I have to cheer quietly. I’m the girl who proudly served as a Student Council classroom representative last year, which is more than I can say for some of the other candidates.” Gaby paused as a few students hooted and hollered. “I am Gabriela de la Cruz. I have always been proud to be a Maplewood Fighting Dolphin. When I’m elected, I will continue to cheer and support you all, both as your friend and your president.” She took a step back, then leaned in and yelled, “Go Dolphins!”
They were still cheering when she left the stage.
The final bell had rung a few minutes earlier, but Jackson remained at his desk. Even after he closed his notebook and left the classroom, his mind stayed on his notes. The election was only two days away, but his to-do list continued to grow.
Then he rounded the corner, and every item on that list quickly withered away.
It wasn’t his locker that made his mind go blank. Rather, it was the girl in the pencil skirt and the navy blue shoes.
“Hey,” he said. He quickly took Gaby in — hands behind her back, bangs swept to the left, face blank of emotion. He dropped his book bag (on his foot, but he didn’t notice), then went to open his locker.
He paused. It was already unlocked.
Gaby brought her hands from behind her back, revealing the missing padlock. “Just wanted to see if I could still do it.”
“Samuel would be proud. He didn’t think you were paying attention when he taught us.”
“If I’m being totally honest, I didn’t pick the lock.” She spun the lock around her index finger. “I guessed the combination.”
Jackson swallowed what felt like sand. The combination was her birthday.
“That’s what I get for being predictable.” He caught hold of the padlock and began to pull away, but as soon as her skin brushed against his, he dropped the lock, this time on his other foot.
Gaby stepped back so Jackson could pick up the padlock. She almost tugged her ponytail, but stopped. If I can talk to an auditorium full of students, I can do this.
“Charlie’s be
en really giddy over the past few days,” she said as Jackson crammed books into his locker. “He’s acting like he used to when you two were planning one of your schemes. But you don’t do that anymore, right?”
“I heard your speech today,” he said. “It was great.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask a question. You made a statement, phrased as a question.”
“Jackson Greene!” She crossed her arms. “Quit dodging.”
“Quit fishing.”
“So you’re not going to tell me what you guys are up to?”
“Like I said before, I liked your speech. It was very inspiring.” He closed his locker. “You’re still going to the formal, right?”
She nodded.
“With Omar?”
She hesitated, chewed on the inside of her lip, then nodded. “Yeah. But not as a date. A whole group of us are going together.”
Jackson opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “So you’re not going as a couple?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Jackson took a deep breath, so long that Gaby thought he was trying to suck all the air out of the hallway, then said, “I wish I had been smart enough to ask you to the formal. I’m sorry. For everything.”
They stared at each other — only for a few seconds, but to Gaby, it felt like hours. Days even. She searched his face, looking for the con, the game, the prank, the joke.
All she saw was regret.
“Be sure to tell Omar to buy you a corsage,” he said. “Better yet, he should buy you a bouquet.” He slung his bag over his shoulder.
“It’s not like that with me and Omar. We’re just friends.” She placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it harder than necessary. “Really. Just friends.”
Then, realizing that she was not only touching Jackson Greene but was within kissing distance, Gaby pulled away.
Jackson scratched his jaw. “So if it’s not a real date, someone else could bring you a corsage or a bouquet?”
The Great Greene Heist Page 11