He sighs on the other end of the line. “So, what now?”
My heartbeat drums in my chest. I can’t believe I’m saying this to the Arch. “I came up with a plan.”
“To get on Lockhart’s personal laptop? Are you nuts?”
“Do you know another way to get our hands on it?”
Arch pauses again. “No. So, what’s your plan?”
“Not my plan,” I correct him. “Our plan.”
“So, now you want me in the group?” There’s a trace of cockiness in his tone I don’t like.
“Do you want to help or not?”
“Yeah, I’m in.”
Down the hall the toilet flushes.
“I gotta go. Meet us behind the Dumpsters tomorrow morning. Shelby will get you set up.”
His answer is cut off by me hanging up the phone just as Moby walks in the room.
Moby wipes some sweat off his forehead, then glances at the phone. “Everybody ready for tomorrow?”
I dust my hands together. “Yep.”
But even if the Arch is just helping with this one plan, I know I’m not ready for how Moby and the rest of the Cadre will react when he shows up.
I tell Moby to meet me early the next morning. The plan is to get to the Dumpsters before the rest of the Cadre and explain what’s happening. Hopefully, I’ll have time to calm him down by the time everyone else shows up.
• • •
Next morning, I meet Moby at our usual spot. Neither of us says a word until we’re a block from the school. Then Moby says, “Who do you think stole it?”
I roll my shoulders. “I dunno. I guess somebody who really wants to stick it to Lockhart.”
“Why do you think that?”
I consider it for a second. “I guess because that’s why I would steal it.”
Moby nods. “Yeah.”
“Why? Who do you think took it?”
He kicks a rock off the sidewalk and onto the street. “Somebody nobody suspects.”
I stop walking and give him a questioning look.
“What? You and the Arch are the main suspects. Why would either of you take it? Lockhart would be all over you.”
He starts walking again and I follow.
When we get to the school’s parking lot we creep along the wall toward the Dumpsters. It’s still early, but we don’t want to attract any attention. Once we’re safely behind the Dumpsters I set my bag down in a dry spot and take a deep breath. I’ve tried out a million different ways to tell him about the Arch, but none seems easier than just blurting it out.
“So, listen, Mobe.”
He stops buttoning up his sweater and turns toward me.
“Remember on Friday, how . . .” The words freeze in my mouth. Suddenly my blurt-and-pray idea doesn’t seem so simple.
“When you were talking about the person who wants to join the Cadre?”
I don’t bother to hide my shock. “Uh, yeah.”
“Are they coming today?”
“Yeah. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
His shoulders drop a little.
It’s now or never. “Wellll, it’s the Arch.” When the words are out I lean back slightly in case Moby actually explodes.
Several very quiet seconds go by before Moby sucks in a deep breath and says, “Oh, okay.”
I relax out of my exploding-best-friend pose. “Wait, you aren’t mad?”
“No. Why?”
I shake my head, mystified. “Well, last year you were mad when Shelby joined.”
“Because I thought you were going to get a new best friend. I know that isn’t going to happen with the Arch.”
“Probably not.” I give a small laugh, relieved Moby isn’t going to freak out.
Moby laughs too. “Definitely not.” Then he laughs even louder as he buttons his sweater the rest of the way. The way he says it makes it sound sort of like a threat. “So, what kind of plot do you have cooked up for the Cadre of Evil today?”
“You remember what the Colonel said about Valerie what’s-her-name? I think I know how to get Lockhart out of here long enough to get in and hack her computer.”
Moby rubs his hands together. “How?”
Before I can answer, a girl’s voice comes out of the deepest shadows at the back of the alcove. “Plots, computer hacking, Cadres . . .”
Megumi steps into the shaft of morning light filtering between the two Dumpsters. She has a headlamp on her head and a comic book in her hand. “Whatever you guys are talking about, I want in.”
CHAPTER 11
I really need to start carrying a flashlight with me; I don’t think my heart can take anyone else popping out of the shadows behind the Dumpsters.
“What are you doing here, Megumi?” My voice wobbles from being startled.
“You told me about this place, remember?”
I remember. It was when I tripped over her feet sticking out of the hedge. “I didn’t think you’d actually come here.”
She takes off her headlamp and stuffs it into her bag. “Why, because of the smell?”
I’m suddenly embarrassed by exactly how funky it is back here. I don’t want her thinking I’m the kind of person who actually likes hanging out behind Dumpsters. “It’s bad right now because it’s warm. By November it will be a lot better.”
She nods. “Yeah, but it is private. And you were right—after a while you don’t even smell it anymore.”
Moby sucks in a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t smell anything.”
Megumi covers her mouth and giggles. “See?”
I consider telling her that Moby’s nose is immune to bad smells from living with himself for eleven years, but I want her gone before everyone else shows up. She seems like a nice kid; I don’t want to get her mixed up in all this. Before I can think of a really good reason to boot her out she says, “Who’s the Arch?”
Before I can answer, Moby does. “The Arch isn’t really a who, so much as—”
“Wait, are you talking about Archer Norris?” she interrupts.
“Yeah, do you know him?” Moby says.
Megumi looks surprised. “You won’t believe this, but he’s the only person here other than Chub who has any clue about Ronin Girl.”
The thought of them looking at the comic together in the halls makes my head get hot.
“Are you and Archer friends?” Megumi asks.
Moby and I scoff at the same time.
“What’s so funny?”
For a second it occurs to me that I don’t actually know the answer. “It’s kind of a long story.” I motion toward the exit, but she stays right where she is.
“I like stories. Don’t you, Moby?” She sits on her backpack, puts her elbows on her knees, and looks up at me like a little kid ready for a nursery rhyme before bed.
Moby walks over to her side of the alcove and sits down next to her. “I’ve heard it before, but I’ll listen again.”
I fold my arms so she’ll know I’m serious about what I’m about to say. “I’d love to tell you all about me and the Arch and everything, but we’re expecting some people for a private meeting and you probably don’t want to know what we’re going to discuss.”
Megumi wrinkles her forehead. “Why wouldn’t I want to know?”
Moby leans toward her and whispers horribly, “Plausible deniability.”
She looks at us each once to see if we’re serious. When it’s clear we are, she stands and dusts off the seat of her pants. “Got it. Private meeting.” She heaves her backpack over her shoulder and she’s about to slip out the exit when something gets in the way of the light filtering between the Dumpsters. All three of us plaster our backs against the metal boxes. The thing blocking the light moves and a silhouette falls on the back wall of the alcove.
The outline of Lockhart’s flattop is unmistakable. She turns her head in both directions, then sniffs the air. The three of us try not to breathe. If she decides to stay and watch the buses unload, nobody el
se will be able to sneak back here and there won’t be a meeting this morning.
She whips her head back and forth one more time, and then calls to the custodian, “Mr. Kraley! I need you to do something about the smell from these Dumpsters.” Her heels clack away quickly, then stop. I can’t make out her words but she’s going on and on about the smell. What does she expect him to do, wash the garbage?
Megumi leans over to me and whispers, “Looks like I’m staying.”
Unfortunately, she’s right. We can’t risk Lockhart seeing her and finding our hiding spot. I’m about to declare the meeting off and figure out a way to reschedule it when there’s a metal clatter and a scraping sound like a shopping cart crashing into a car. It comes from the far end of the parking lot. Lockhart’s heels fly toward the sound.
“Go!” I whisper to Megumi, but before she can react Shelby careens into the alcove, pushing Megumi right back in. She’s followed a few seconds later by the Arch.
A few seconds after that, the last official member of the Cadre, Sizzler, shows up. He takes up as much space as two average-size seventh graders, so everyone shifts around to make room. When they notice the Arch, Sizzler and Shelby back into a corner as far away from him as they can get. This isn’t how I wanted this to go down. I was hoping to have a minute to explain things to everyone before they saw him.
Shelby drops the duffel bag she’s carrying, folds her arms, and glares at the Arch, then at me. “What’s he doing here?”
I don’t have time to tell her everything. “He’s here to help.”
Something clicks and Shelby’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait! Is this costume for him?” She kicks the bag.
This is going to get out of hand if I don’t calm her down. “Listen, guys, I just need you to trust me, okay?”
Shelby flaps her hand toward the Arch like she’s trying to dry her feathers. “I trust you, Maciek. It’s him I don’t trust.”
Sizzler nods. “Did you forget about literally everything that happened last year?”
They have every reason not to trust him. I open my mouth to say whatever I need to say to keep the plan on track, but the Arch comes to his own defense.
“Listen, Shirley—”
Shelby slowly turns and pushes her glasses up on her nose. “It’s Shell-bee, thank you very much.”
“Sorry, Shell-bee. I know I’m not your favorite person—”
“True,” Sizzler says.
The Arch looks at him, then back at Shelby. “But I didn’t steal the Boogerloo, and I have just as much at stake as the rest of you if we don’t find the thief. So what do you say? Cut me a little slack. What have you got to lose?” He lowers his head but raises his eyes like a puppy begging for forgiveness.
My plan to get on Lockhart’s computer will only work if everyone is on board. I look at Shelby. She gives the Arch the same peer-into-your-soul stare she’s used on me in the past. After a few seconds of silent inquisition, she straightens up. “We’ll see, we’ll see.”
The Arch scratches the back of his neck. “Um, okay.”
There’s rustling in the entry and then the McQueens slip in one by one. When all three of them are in, it becomes impossible to move without rubbing against somebody. If Moby wasn’t pinned against the back wall next to Megumi, he probably would’ve disappeared by now.
The triplets are normally very punctual. “What took you guys so long?”
One of them pulls the substitute hat out of another one’s satchel and puts it on. “Sorry, boy-o. There was a dragon guarding the keep. We had to create a distraction so everyone could get in.”
Classic McQueens. “What was that noise?”
“We—um, found a shopping cart on the way to school.” The three of them chuckle. “Tragically, it got loose and crashed into Lockhart’s car. I’m sure the scratch will buff out.”
I shake my head in fake disappointment. “That’s a shame.”
“She’ll be busy for a bit.” He winks, then rubs his hands together. “Did someone say something about a caper?”
They don’t mention payment, and I don’t offer. They shoot a quick look at the Arch, and then the one with the hat tips it toward him. The McQueens are total professionals. The Arch nods back, an odd look on his face. First I think it’s confusion, but then I realize it’s something else. He’s stuffed into a tiny space, shoulder to shoulder with a group of people who came together last year to take him down. He isn’t confused; the Arch is actually nervous. I take a moment to enjoy that, and then I wedge myself between him and Megumi and call the meeting to order.
I point at Shelby’s duffel. “Did you get everything we need?”
Shelby fishes in the bag and pulls out a wrinkled page torn from a magazine. She holds up the picture of the artist Wahoolie in front of the Arch and looks back and forth between them.
“I think so. I couldn’t tell from the pictures if Wahoolie has a hook for a hand or something else, so he’ll have to keep it tucked in the sleeve.”
“Wait, what?” the Arch sputters.
I’ve actually been looking forward to this moment. “You said you wanted to help. This is how we do it.”
He taps the picture with the back of his hand. “I don’t look anything like that guy.”
Shelby snaps the picture back and folds her arms. “Moby doesn’t look like a twenty-three-year-old poker player either, but we fooled you, didn’t we?”
Moby puffs out his chest and grins.
The Arch sighs and shakes his head. “This’ll never work.”
Everyone looks at me, concerned. The plan won’t work without a Valerie.
“It only has to work for a second. But if you’re scared . . .”
“C’mon, Archer,” Sizzler says. “You’ve never been the type to chicken out.”
The Arch chews his lip for a second, then kicks the brick wall with his heel. “Fine. Give me the makeup.”
Everyone laughs, then remembers that Lockhart might come back at any moment and then goes silent again.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Archer.” Shelby unzips her bag and digs inside. “No makeup this time. This role only calls for wardrobe and a goatee.”
We need to make sure everything fits and that the Arch looks enough like Wahoolie to fool someone from a hundred yards away. While Shelby dresses him in the costume, I go over the plan with everyone else. Sizzler pulls out the voice-changing gizmo he used when he pretended to be my dad on the phone last year during the Arch’s campaign speech.
“Can you make it sound like Wahoolie? He’s Australian. That devil-robot voice you used on me will make Mrs. Osborne suspicious.”
Sizzler pokes some buttons. “It doesn’t do accents. I watched some interviews with him on YouTube, but I can’t sound like him.”
“Try it once,” I say.
He finds the setting he wants, then talks into the thing. The voice that comes out is his, but much deeper. “Can I talk to the principal?”
“Whoa!” Moby’s eyes go wide.
It sounds pretty cool, but it definitely does not sound Australian. “We’ll have to go with Plan B.”
The Arch looks impressed. “You have a Plan B? Thorough.”
I touch my fingers together. “I always have a Plan B.”
He leans as far away from me as he can in the tiny space. “Okaaaay.”
I lay out the alternate plan for luring Lockhart to the coffee shop, then give everyone else their assignments.
I’ve spaced the McQueens out from the parking lot all the way to the courtyard, with Moby closest to the office, so he feels like he’s a major part of the operation. If Lockhart leaves the coffee shop too early, it means that my plan to fool her with our fake Wahoolie has failed, and Sizzler will have to race back to signal the first McQueen who is stationed in the parking lot. He will then start a chain of birdcalls when he sees Sizzler’s signal, and I’ll know I’ve got less than a minute to get out.
I wish Sizzler, Moby, and the McQueens luck and send them off. A moment l
ater Shelby puts the final touch, a goatee that looks like it was freshly shaved off a poodle’s butt, onto the Arch’s face.
He presses his lips together to keep beard glue from oozing into his mouth. “This’ll never work.”
We’ll find out at lunch if he’s right or wrong. “It only needs to fool her for a second.”
Shelby pops a beret on the Arch’s head, then stands back to inspect her work.
He doesn’t look exactly like the guy, but as the Colonel would say, “It’s close enough for government work.”
I look the Arch in the eyes. “Do you know what to do?”
He rips the butt-hair beard off his face and hands it back to Shelby, who stashes it in a Ziploc bag for later. “Yeah, don’t get caught!”
I push him toward the exit. “We’ll meet back here during lunch, after it’s done.”
He doesn’t say a word, just slips out.
Shelby zips up her duffel and moves toward the door. “See you in homeroom.”
I wave to her but when I look up she has a scowl on her face. I’m about to ask her what that’s about when she turns on her heel and slips out.
“What’s her problem?” Megumi asks. I’d forgotten she was still there.
“I have no idea. Well, I hope you enjoyed the meeting. I’m sorry I missed you at lunch yesterday. Maybe we can read Ronin Girl after we sort all this out?”
She makes no move to leave.
“Okay, well, I have to go.”
She folds her arms. “I told you I want in.”
“Well, this plot is full. Maybe next time.”
“I don’t think you understand, Chub. If you want to read Ronin Girl, I’m going with you.”
CHAPTER 12
Like most people, when I’m facing a really tough decision, I always ask myself, What would Captain Kirk do? Deciding between risking the plan by taking Megumi along and not getting to read Ronin Girl is no Kobayashi Maru, but it’s one of the hardest choices I’ve ever had to make. I’ve learned from years of being friends with Moby that last-minute improvisations are a surefire way to ruin a really good plan. On the other hand, the rarest comic I’ll ever see is within reach. My mom always calls things like this “Sophie’s choice.” I have no clue who this Sophie is, or how my mom knows her, but there’s no way she had a tougher decision than the one I’m going to have to make.
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