Amanda stood beside but also one step behind Violet. It was clear who would be doing all the talking. Violet leaned forward and said, “What could be more thrilling than a glittery, excitement- and drama-filled … Hollywood theme!” She made jazz hands to emphasize her point.
The girls all around me whispered back and forth, mostly looking unsure.
Violet spoke loudly, “We would need four spotlights to spin around the room, a red carpet, and several photographers to act as paparazzi. We would need about a dozen potted palm trees.”
Sheesh. Her list of ideas sounded more like demands.
She waved a finger in the air as she added, “And I think it would be best if we made the dance couples only. If we don’t do that, the boys will just hang out with their friends. And everyone should dress up like their favorite celebrity couple.”
Personally, I thought the boys would rather spend the night home with the stomach flu than attend that dance. But no boys were here to vote. Fiona was right. This could be a disaster.
“And for pictures,” Violet said, “we’d need a huge background display that’s a replica of the Hollywood sign.”
While Violet continued to list off “required” items that would surely not be in our budget, I racked my brain for an idea of my own. What did I know about dances? I’d never been to one. I didn’t know about anything except astronomy. I didn’t belong here with these girls. I wished I was hanging out with Darcy. Or in my yard at night, gazing through my telescope, looking for …
Then it hit me.
I could picture it vividly in my mind. And I knew it would work.
“So, in summary,” Violet said, “no idea is going to be better than ours so we should just vote now. Raise your hand if —”
Fiona stepped forward and banged the gavel. “Great job, Violet and Amanda. Anyone else?” She looked at me with pleading eyes.
I took a deep breath and raised my hand.
Fiona pretended to be surprised. “Norah Burridge! Please, come on up.”
Everyone turned in their seats and watched me. My heart started beating like crazy. You can do this, I told myself. Just stand up and start walking.
A wave of nerves slammed into me as I strode up the aisle. I reached the front, turned, and faced everyone. They were all seated in desks, staring at me. Waiting. I gripped the podium tightly to hide the trembling of my hands.
“My idea, um, is … A Starry Night.”
Violet rolled her eyes from the front row.
I took another deep breath. “Imagine dancing with your friends or with your crush under a beautiful night sky. Decorating would be easy. Party stores sell star-shaped balloons and cutouts. We could also make our own stars and planets from cardboard and tinfoil and hang them from the ceiling. We could have glow-in-the-dark stars up on the walls. And we could even sell glow bracelets to make some money!” At this, I saw Mrs. Haymon nod encouragingly and I felt a burst of confidence. “Also,” I finished, “I have a huge poster of a full moon that we could use for a backdrop for photos.”
Fiona beamed proudly from the corner of the room. Girls whispered excitedly and nodded. All except Violet and Amanda.
I had to force myself to walk rather than run back to my seat. My heart started to slow back to normal. I couldn’t believe I’d said all that! And it had actually made sense!
Fiona held her hand to her chest as she returned to the podium. “What a wonderful idea, Norah. Within budget, and totally romantic.”
Murmurs of agreement came from the crowd. A few girls turned and smiled at me.
“Time for a vote.” Fiona banged the gavel. “Raise your hand if you want the Starry Night theme.”
It was nearly unanimous. I couldn’t believe it. I felt the warm tingling of a blush on my cheeks.
“And now raise your hand if you want the Hollywood theme.”
Violet’s and Amanda’s hands were the only ones in the air. They looked around and quietly pulled them back down.
“A Starry Night it is!” Fiona said. “At our next meeting, we’ll make new posters and start on the decorations. Meeting adjourned!” She banged her gavel then ran up to me.
I barely had enough time to get up from the chair before she was whispering in my ear. “Awesome job! You rule!”
I felt a rush of pride. My obsession with astronomy had paid off! This had begun as a favor to Fiona, but now I was truly excited about planning the dance. I could picture it. Dim lights, surrounded by glowing stars, slow dancing with Zane …
I only wished Darcy had been there to share in the glory.
Fiona looped her arm through mine as we walked out together. “I knew asking you to join was a great idea.”
I felt a bump on my shoulder. Violet brushed by me, rougher than necessary. “Sorry, nerd.”
She said that like it was an insult, but I stood straighter. Being smart is something to be proud of.
As Fiona and I walked down the hall, she continued to chatter about my dance idea.
“At the next meeting,” she said, her green eyes twinkling with excitement, “be prepared to work. We’re going to make those cool stars and planets you were talking about.”
She opened her mouth to say more, but then, eyeing something over my shoulder, seemed to change her mind. “See you later, Norah!” She spun around, her long brown hair flying, and hurried down the hall.
Why is she in such a rush? I wondered.
But then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and Zane was standing there, smiling at me.
Ah. That’s why.
“What are you doing here after school?” I asked, blushing a little.
He pointed down at his outfit — a sweaty T-shirt and athletic shorts. “I just finished playing intramural floor hockey in the gym. Now I’m heading over to the high school for soccer practice. How about you?”
“I just got out of the Dance Committee meeting.” I motioned toward the classroom.
“Interesting.” He paused and shifted his weight. “Because I was hoping to run into you. I want to ask, um …”
His voice trailed off. I watched as he tugged on his ear, then ran his fingers through his hair. He seemed suddenly nervous. Was he … about to ask me to the dance?
A tingle of excitement ran through me.
“Yes?” I prodded.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, so are you going to the dance?”
“Yes, I am,” I answered quickly. My heart was doing cartwheels.
His cheeks turned pink. He kept looking up at me, then down at the floor, then back up again.
“Well, then,” he finally said, “I was wondering if you’d like —”
“Zane Munro!”
Zane and I were both startled by the booming voice. Principal Plati was marching down the hallway toward us.
No! He was ruining my moment! Whatever it was could’ve waited one more minute!
Hopefully, he’d be quick and Zane and I could get right back to our conversation.
“Zane, you need to come to my office.”
Or not.
Zane furrowed his brow. “Is something wrong, Mr. Plati?”
The principal looked from Zane to me. “We need to have this conversation in my office, Zane. Follow me. Now.”
This seemed serious. And, clearly, it was something Mr. Plati wanted to tell Zane in private.
So, obviously, I had to eavesdrop.
After all, Zane might need my help.
As he and Mr. Plati walked toward the office, I pretended to read one of the dance posters up on the wall. The handwriting was round and looping, and a tiny heart was doodled inside all the lowercase e’s. Definitely written by a girl.
I looked back over my shoulder, and Mr. Plati and Zane were gone. Now was my chance. I dashed down the hall and went into the school office. The waiting area was empty, and the secretary had either gone home already or was away from her desk. The inner door to Mr. Plati’s office was closed, and I snuck up to it.
I couldn�
��t make out the words Mr. Plati was saying, but it was clear that he was using his angry voice. One that Darcy knew very well. It wasn’t exactly yelling, but it was loud enough that I could quietly push the door open an inch and he wouldn’t notice.
Now I could hear everything. I leaned my ear next to the crack and listened.
“And you’re sure you had nothing to do with the fire?” Mr. Plati was asking Zane skeptically.
My heart sped up.
“Yes, sir,” Zane answered with a tremble in his voice. “You know me. I’ve never been in trouble before. I would never do something like this.”
“And you’re saying you weren’t even here early Monday morning when the fire started? You weren’t in or around the field house?”
“No, sir,” Zane replied. “Well, I mean, I was here at the school. But the field house was already burning.”
There was a long pause. I wished I could put my eye up to the crack to see their expressions. Why didn’t Mr. Plati believe Zane? Of course he had nothing to do with the fire. This was Zane we were talking about! He was one of the good kids.
My chest squeezed. Maybe someone called in an anonymous tip. The person who e-mailed Zane and said he’d be blamed. I shook my head. No. That wouldn’t work. An anonymous tip is not evidence. It would be some faceless person’s word against Zane’s. Of course Mr. Plati would believe Zane.
“We have a problem then, Mr. Munro.”
Uh-oh. You knew you were in big trouble when Mr. Plati called you mister or miss.
“What is it?” Zane asked.
I felt so bad for him, facing this all alone in there. Why would anyone want to put Zane through this?
Mr. Plati let out a long sigh, like he was deeply disappointed. “The problem is that, in addition to setting the fire, you’ve also now lied to me. Because I know you were at the field house. I have evidence.”
My mind scrambled. Evidence? What evidence?
I heard the squeak of a drawer opening. And the light thud of something being placed on the desk. Then I heard Zane gasp.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I risked it and put my eye up to the crack.
“This was found at the scene of the crime,” Mr. Plati said. “Look familiar?”
He lifted a small black item in his hand. A wallet. Zane’s wallet.
I rocked back on my heels like I’d been slapped. Whoever set the fire had stolen Zane’s wallet or found it after he’d dropped it. Then they put it at the scene to frame him. I was overcome with anger. My face felt like it was burning.
“Are you going to deny that this is your wallet?” Mr. Plati asked. “Because your student ID is inside.”
Zane paled. “No, I mean yes, that’s my wallet. But I lost that a few days ago.”
Mr. Plati raised his eyebrows. “Inside the field house?”
Zane shook his head. “No. I’ve never been in the field house. It wasn’t open yet.”
“But when Mr. Gray ran in to try to stop the fire” — Mr. Plati pointed a finger at the wallet — “he found this on the floor.”
“I — I — I,” Zane stuttered.
I’d never heard him this nervous. My heart went out to him.
“Someone’s framing me!” he blurted. “I got a threatening e-mail and everything!”
Mr. Plati leaned forward on his desk and clasped his hands. “Is that really the tactic you’re going to use?”
“It’s the truth,” Zane said, bewildered. “Why would I burn the field house?”
Mr. Plati let out an aggravated grunt. “I overheard a conversation in the hall last week, between the soccer team and the basketball team. It seems some of you boys on the soccer team were all riled up about the field house.”
Zane’s face turned bright red, and he looked down at the floor. “We’re just mad because the basketball team gets a brand-new field house and we’re basically kicked out. We used to practice here and now we have to go all the way to the high school for practices. It’s not fair.”
Mr. Plati nodded. “I heard that. It would’ve been hard not to, since you were using such a raised voice.”
“We were angry,” Zane muttered.
“But how angry?” Mr. Plati asked quietly. “Angry enough to ‘burn the field house down’?” He used finger quotes as he said the words.
I nearly slid down to the floor in shock. He was quoting Zane? Zane threatened to burn the field house down?
Zane’s shoulders shook. “I was only joking when I said that. It was just one of those things you say but you don’t mean.”
“That’s what I assumed at the time,” the principal said. “I thought to myself, ‘Zane Munro is a good kid. He’s angry right now and that’s why these words are flying, but he certainly doesn’t want the field house to burn down.’” He shifted in his seat. “But the problem is, Mr. Munro, that the field house did burn down. A week after you said that. And your wallet was found at the scene.” He took a long pause. “Are you sure there’s nothing you need to tell me?”
Zane’s eyes were glassy. “No, sir.”
Mr. Plati leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m disappointed in you, Zane. I hoped that you’d be honest and face what you did. You’re better than this.”
Zane banged his hand on the arm of the chair. “I didn’t do it, Principal Plati. I swear! Someone is framing me!”
But Mr. Plati only shook his head. “I’ve already called your parents. They’re on their way. The police will be taking over from now on. You can show this supposed e-mail to them. In the meantime, you’re suspended from school and banned from school events. No soccer games. No dance.”
My heart broke into a thousand pieces. Only a few minutes ago, it had seemed like Zane was going to ask me to my first dance. I’d been so excited and had so much to look forward to. And now it was all falling apart.
In a deep, sorrowful tone, Mr. Plati ended with, “And the rest depends on the results of the investigation.”
Chairs scraped as they started to get up. I scurried back into the hall. Zane emerged from the office a moment later, looking stricken.
“I heard everything,” I whispered.
Zane looked up at me with eyes that held no hope. “You believe me, right? I did say that about the field house, but only because I was mad. I didn’t mean it. I never, ever would have done something like this.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and said firmly, “I believe you. I know you didn’t do this.”
For some reason that made a bit of light return to his eyes. But, even still, he said, “You should go. I’m supposed to wait here for my parents. It’s going to be bad when they get here.”
“It’s not fair!” I snapped. I chewed on my lip to fight back tears. “You didn’t do it! I know you didn’t. You told me on Sunday that you’d lost your wallet days before. And you got this e-mail from someone. Let me go in there and plead with Mr. Plati.”
Zane shot out a hand to stop me. “Norah, no. Stay out of it. He might think you’re helping me cover it up. I don’t want you to get in trouble, too.”
He wanted to protect me. That was ten thousand kinds of awesome, but I wasn’t going to stand here and let this happen.
Zane’s shoulders sagged. “I’m in huge trouble, Norah. I’m suspended and I might even get charged with a crime.”
I clenched my fists. Not if I had anything to do with it.
I walked home from school alone. It felt so unnatural not to have Darcy beside me, bumping my shoulder now and then as we walked. All I could think about was Zane and the fire. Who could have framed him? And why? If Darcy had been with me, that’s all we would have talked about.
I let myself into my house and did homework by myself in my room. I got it done in half the amount of time without Darcy chattering on beside me, but it was much less fun. Mom called up when dinner was ready. I went down the stairs, feeling depressed. I felt worse when I smelled cooked mystery meat. I didn’t care which meat it was. It wasn’t pasta, so … b
lech.
I ate my potatoes and picked at the meat loaf, cutting it up and pushing it around the plate to make it look like I consumed more of it than I really had. Being a picky eater had made me a master at that. I considered it an art form. For good measure, I also slipped a few bites under the table to Hubble.
“Is something wrong, honey?” Dad asked halfway through the meal. “You seem a little sad.”
I twisted my mouth, not knowing whether or not I wanted to talk about it. The person I really needed to talk to was my best friend. I felt so hopeless. I wanted to help Zane, but I didn’t know where to start. I needed Darcy. I was still mad at her about certain things, but those almost seemed less important now.
Mom put her hand over mine and forced me to look into her eyes. “What is it, sweetie?”
They weren’t going to give up. I might as well spill. I let out a deep breath. “Darcy and I aren’t speaking.”
Mom made a pouty-lipped face and patted my hand. “Oh no. I remember those days. My best friend and I had fights now and then, too.”
“I don’t know if this is just a ‘now and then’ kind of fight, Mom. We might never be friends again.” I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
Mom’s expression changed from pity to concern. “I hope that’s not the case.”
“Same here,” Dad piped up, reaching across the table to squeeze my other hand. “You and Darcy have been inseparable ever since she moved in next door. I thought you guys would be best friends till graduation day.”
Mom clicked her fork against her plate as she thought. “Would you like me to call Darcy’s mother?” she suggested. “Try to help?”
Oh, please, no. “I’m not in preschool, Mom,” I snapped. “You can’t just set up a playdate and make us be friends again.”
Her eyes gazed down at her plate. “I know that.”
I immediately felt bad for the way I’d said it. “I’m sorry, Mom. You’re only trying to help. I just think this is something I’m going to have to fix on my own.”
Saying it out loud gave me the confidence to do what I’d been avoiding all afternoon. I looked up at my parents. “I’d actually like to go next door and work on that now. May I be excused?”
Framed & Dangerous (9780545443128) Page 3