To Catch a Cheat

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To Catch a Cheat Page 8

by Varian Johnson


  “Kayla the Cheat’s machine,” Megan corrected. “Might as well be her middle name.” She cleared her throat. “But you know, I’ve been tinkering with a password-decoding program. We could sneak into Kayla the Cheat’s house and —”

  “Megan …” Jackson began.

  “It’s just an option,” she said. “I wanted to toss it out there in case this plan doesn’t work.”

  “That’s our problem,” Jackson said. “All of our options are bad options. Just too many variables….” He tried to stick his pencil behind his ear, but it kept falling out of place. Finally, he tossed it on the table. “Okay, let’s pack it up for tonight. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  Gaby swept her hair back from her face and watched as Jackson pulled her list of potential masterminds from his jacket. He walked off, still muttering to himself, while the others remained at the table.

  “What’s with Jackson?” Megan asked Gaby. “I’ve never seen him so nervous before.”

  Gaby shrugged, then walked away too. She knew she should have responded, but she didn’t want to tell Megan the truth.

  Jackson wasn’t nervous. He was scared.

  Gaby entered her house, dropped her book bag off on the kitchen table, and walked down the hallway. She knocked on her brother’s bedroom door, but after no one answered, she continued on to her parents’ room. Her father was lying on the bed, an empty plate beside him.

  “¡Mija!” he yelled before blowing her a kiss. “I can’t believe I missed your game. I heard you were amazing! Twelve points — all threes!”

  “I was just open,” Gaby said.

  “And what about all those assists? I can’t wait to tell the guys at the station —”

  “Lynne and LaKisha happened to be in the right place at the right time every time I passed them the ball,” Gaby said, loosening her ponytail. “And please don’t brag. Knowing me, I’ll have a horrible game next week.”

  He snorted. “Nonsense. And I’m your papi. It’s my job to brag.” He took a sip from a bottle of water. “According to your mother, I haven’t been the only one bragging.”

  Gaby felt her face warm. “Yes, Jackson was cheering. Like everyone else.”

  “You know, you can invite him over. I don’t bite.”

  “Daddy, the last time he was here, you started cleaning your hunting knife.”

  “It was a joke,” he said. “Jackson was supposed to laugh, not run for the door.”

  “He’s nervous. He wants you to like him.”

  “Mija,” he said. “I wouldn’t let you date him if I didn’t like him.”

  Gaby’s face went from warm to blazing. “So … Where’s Mom and Charlie?”

  “Your mother had to run to the grocery store but should be home soon. Carlito is outside, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” He glanced at his alarm clock. “Go tell him it’s time to come in. It’s getting late, and he’s probably freezing.”

  She nodded, closed his door, and went out to the backyard. Even though most of the snow had melted, Charlie was able to pile enough of it together to form what looked like a ragged, uneven maze.

  “Watch your step,” he said as she walked toward him. “You’re about to plow through the boys’ bathroom.”

  Gaby sat down at the picnic table. “How long have you been out here?”

  He sat down next to her. “Long enough to lose the feeling in my fingers.”

  “Charlie …”

  “I’m kidding. Mostly.” He glanced at his watch — Jackson’s watch, she noticed — then tapped the notepad on top of the table. “I’m close. I can almost make that eighty-foot dash. Just need to shave off one more second.”

  “Eighty-four feet,” Gaby corrected.

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “So you know the plan too?”

  “Jackson told me this afternoon.” She glanced at all the times scribbled on the notebook page. “Maybe you’ve practiced enough. You’re going to be sore.”

  “One. More. Second.” He licked his dry, ragged lips. “My mouth’s going to look like sandpaper tomorrow.” He winked. “At least I’m not kissing anyone.”

  “Not funny.” The last person she wanted to discuss kissing with was her brother. “I didn’t come out here to talk about me and Jackson. I came to talk about you and Jackson.”

  “Not interested in a lecture.”

  “Too bad,” Gaby said. “I know you and Jackson aren’t talking. Not really.”

  “He knows where to find me.”

  “It’s not like you’re making it easy for him to trust you.” She yanked the notebook from him so he’d have to look at her. “I mean, really — switching the meeting location was childish.”

  “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

  Gaby took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come out here to argue either. I just want you two to talk. I’ve never seen him this stumped before.” She placed her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Maybe you guys should walk away. It’s too risky.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Then talk to him. Help him improve the plan. He’ll listen to you.”

  “I tried.”

  “Try again.” She reached up and tugged on a piece of hair poking out from underneath his hat. “And if it helps, you’ve always been better at video games than Jackson.”

  “Not that I’ve played a whole bunch lately. You and Jackson hogged the best game.”

  “That’s just because we were practicing for our showdown with Eric Caan.”

  “Convenient,” Charlie mumbled. “So what was the excuse before that? Y’all were studying for the American history exam? Playing basketball at the Fitz?”

  Gaby crossed her arms. “Are you jealous?”

  “No way. Of course not.” He glanced at the snow maze. “But it’s hard to play a two-person video game when neither your best friend nor your twin sister is ever around.”

  Gaby looked at Charlie, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She and Jackson had been spending a lot of time together. Maybe too much….

  “Charlie. I’m —”

  “Forget it,” he said. “So are you just here to give me advice, or has Jackson recruited you as well?”

  “I can’t get involved. I’ll help as much as I can, but —”

  “No, that’s good. No point in getting pulled into this mess.”

  She read the times listed on the notepad, then pushed it toward him. “You really want to do this run tomorrow?”

  “I have to. And not just because I want to prove something to Jackson.”

  “Okay.” She touched her dry lips. She’d left her lip balm in her book bag on the table. “We’ve got about thirty minutes before the sun goes down completely. Let’s get to it.”

  “What?”

  “You’re fast, but only because of your genes,” she said. “If you had ever bothered to learn how to run the right way, you’d be even faster. So I’m going to teach you.” She pointed to the watch on his arm. “Hand it over.”

  “Gaby —”

  “Stop talking and save your breath,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

  As soon as Gaby arrived at school on Friday morning, she made a beeline for the main office. She had been up most of the night before, thinking through Jackson’s plan. Jackson believed the camera footage gave them the best chance at determining the identity of the mastermind. But Gaby figured it was worth talking to one more source.

  She caught Dr. Kelsey just as he was about to start his rounds. “Hello, Ms. de la Cruz,” he said as he closed his office door behind him. “My, you look fancy this morning.”

  Gaby knew he was talking about the red lipstick she was wearing. She didn’t like it, but it was the only color that adequately hid her horribly raw lips. “I just wanted to check on the status of the carpeting,” she said. She had practiced what she was going to say, but now that she was here, nerves were beginning to take over.

  “They should be able to replace it in a couple of wee
ks,” he said.

  “That fast?”

  He nodded. “It’s not quite what I wanted, but it’ll have to do,” he said. “Although our insurance will cover most of the repair costs, I’d hoped that some of our more affluent donors would have contributed to a few upgrades I wanted to make. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.”

  He had to be talking about Keith’s father. Keith had let everyone know that his dad refused to donate any more money to the school — not until there were some “changes in management.”

  “Well, I’m glad it’ll be fixed soon.” Then she took a breath. No point in beating around the bush. “Just being curious, have you learned anything else about who’s behind the pranks?”

  His eyes sparkled. “Why? Are you here to tell me something about your brother’s involvement?”

  Gaby crossed her arms. “Charlie didn’t have anything to do with it. You practically said so yourself when you decided not to take him before the Honor Board.”

  “No, I said I couldn’t prove that he was involved. Big difference.” He tugged on his coat. “Charlie by himself isn’t smart enough to pull off something like that — no offense. But I wouldn’t put anything past him and Jackson Greene working together.” He turned and looked at the door to the copy room. “I’m still trying to figure out how they pulled off that stunt during the Fall Formal.”

  “Alleged stunt,” she whispered.

  “What was that?” he asked, stepping toward her.

  “Nothing — just that I’m positive that neither Jackson nor Charlie had anything to do with the flooding prank.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  You mean, other than being with Jackson while the school was being flooded? Other than knowing that they’ve been framed?

  But instead of saying that, she replied, “Don’t you think it could be someone else?”

  “Nonsense. The only other student cavalier enough to pull something like that was Keith. And according to his father, Keith was home the entire night.”

  “There are plenty of other sneaky, slimy students at Maplewood,” Gaby said. She almost wished she had a copy of her list to show to him.

  “You mean like members of the Tech Club? The Art Geeks? The school newspaper?” Dr. Kelsey glanced at his watch. “Let me give you some free advice — you can’t choose who your family is, but you can always pick your friends. And Jackson Greene is not the type of boy you should be spending your time with.”

  “Why? He didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “Or maybe he just didn’t get caught,” he said. “He’s a criminal. It’s in his blood.” He walked toward the door. “No one is above the rules of this school, Ms. de la Cruz, no matter how popular he or she may be. As Student Council president, I expect you to alert me if you know of anyone’s involvement. Even your friends or family.”

  No, Gaby thought. My job is to stand up for all students. Especially my friends and family.

  She exited the office and headed toward Jackson’s locker. He looked up as she approached. “You look really nice this morning,” he said. Then he frowned. “And really angry.”

  “I confirmed with Dr. Kelsey — the new carpeting won’t be installed for a few more weeks, so you don’t have to worry about crews in the hallways this week or next.”

  “Yeah, Bradley told me that yesterday, but thanks for double-checking.” He closed his locker and started to walk off, but paused when he realized Gaby wasn’t following. “What? Is something else wrong?”

  “You sure Ray’s driving his van tonight?” After Jackson nodded, she said, “Good. You just got an extra passenger.”

  Three hours after the last bell of the school week had rung, Charlie de la Cruz sat in the corner of the storage closet, pressed between stacks of long fluorescent lights and old dusty mops. The clipboard holding all of Mr. Hutton’s maintenance requests jutted into the top of his head, and he was sure that the bucket sitting a few feet away from him hadn’t been cleaned in months.

  Charlie applied another coat of lip balm. Gaby had worked him hard last night, helping him shave off that one last second, but it came at the cost of his nose and lips.

  Jackson’s shiny silver watch beeped on his arm. Six o’clock. A few moments later, his earpiece crackled to life. “The school’s been empty for almost an hour,” Jackson said. “You ready?”

  Charlie spoke into the microphone clipped to his shirt, wondering if the rest of the team was listening in. “I’ve been thinking — the cameras’ flash drives record over themselves after twenty-four hours, right? So even if I get caught on video, it’ll record over itself by Monday morning. So maybe I don’t have to worry so much about the cameras.”

  “Technically, you’re correct,” Jackson said. “That’s why we’re going in today. But I’d bet all the money in Hash’s piggy bank that Dr. Kelsey or Mr. James will be in this weekend to check the video — it’s what I would do. So stop thinking and get ready to run.”

  Charlie sighed. Good thing I ate my Wheaties this morning.

  “Even though we can’t see what you’re doing, we’ll be keeping time here as well, and I’ll let you know when to run and when to stop.” Jackson mumbled a few words at someone else in the van, then said, “Forty-five seconds, Charlie.”

  Charlie stood up and rattled the door handle. It seemed colder and smoother than usual. Had it always been this way, or had he never noticed? He braced his other hand against the doorframe. He and Gaby had decided that the best strategy was to catapult himself out of the door. Not that the first leg of the run was all that difficult — he wouldn’t have any problem making it to the first recycling bin in time. Reaching the security room would be another matter. He’d practiced the run almost fifty times and had made it under eight seconds only twice.

  “Get ready….” Jackson said into his ear. “And … Go!”

  Charlie launched himself into the hallway, jumping so far that he almost crashed into the wall ahead of him. He spun to his right and sped to the large green recycling bin in the corner. As soon as he reached it, he dropped to his knees, tucked himself behind it, and checked his watch. Fourteen seconds.

  “Charlie … ?”

  “I’m here,” he replied. He hoped Jackson couldn’t tell how shaky his voice sounded. “No sweat.”

  “Okay, sit tight. You’ve got about a minute and a half until your next window.”

  The hardest part about the second leg of the run was that he had to be out of view of both cameras before he could move — limiting him to that window of 8.2 seconds. Give or take.

  The watch beeped again. Charlie moved into position. “How much time till I go?” he asked.

  “Fifteen seconds,” Jackson said. Then, an eternity later: “Five … four … three … two … one … Go!”

  Charlie exploded from his crouch and flew toward the security door, counting the time through clenched teeth. The second recycling bin grew larger in his view, bouncing from left to right with each frantic step.

  He dropped behind it but didn’t dare look at his watch. “Jackson … ?” he muttered, trying to control his breathing. “Did I … make it?”

  “Nine-point-eight seconds,” Jackson said.

  Charlie’s heart sank.

  “So I guess it’s a good thing we built in a few extra seconds,” Jackson continued.

  “Wait. What?” Charlie took in a few deeps breaths before starting again. “You mean … I made it?”

  “You actually had a window of fourteen seconds, but we didn’t tell you that. We thought a smaller window might motivate you a bit more.”

  Megan’s voice came into his ear. “And we had to punish you at least a little for lying to us about the Trophy Heist.”

  Charlie could hear everyone else in the background, laughing and cheering. He wanted to be mad, but he also knew he probably deserved it. “You guys …”

  “You’re not out of the woods yet,” Jackson said. “Your window to unlock the security room just started. You’ve got twenty-
five seconds.”

  Charlie stood, shook out his cramping legs, and unlocked the door. It was only after he turned on the lights that he allowed himself to smile. “Unplugging the cameras now.”

  “Okay, we’ll move into position.”

  Gaby had barely closed the van door before Samuel and his friend Ray Basilone sped off down the road, a puff of exhaust smoke trailing behind them. They had promised to return in an hour. She readjusted her black backpack and joined the rest of the crew. Everyone seemed happy — thrilled, even — that Charlie had made it to the room, but the way she saw it, they had all dodged a huge bullet. It should have been her inside the building, not Charlie. There was no question that she was the best sprinter in the group, and she was in the best shape. But the only way Jackson and Charlie had agreed to let her join the crew was if she dropped her request to take Charlie’s place.

  That seemed to be the only thing they agreed on.

  They walked along the edge of the campus toward the back of the school, with tall, snow-capped cedars on one side and a bare parking lot on the other. They stopped at a row of picnic tables just outside the camera’s perimeter. “Bradley, reach into my bag and hand me those binoculars,” Jackson said.

  “What do you need those for?” Gaby asked.

  “The cameras aren’t supposed to have internal batteries, but given how much Kelsey paid for the system, you can never be too sure.” He brought the binoculars to his face. “If they’re really off, then the rotating camera outside of the gym will be stationary.” After a second, he passed the binoculars back to Bradley, then spoke into his microphone. “Good job, Charlie. We’re heading to the rendezvous point now.”

  Jackson started toward the building, his feet following an already worn path through the slushy parking lot. Gaby sped up to catch him, leaving the others behind.

  “Tell me the truth,” she said. “Did you really think Charlie was going to make it to the security room in time?”

  A small smile spread on Jackson’s face. “Honestly, I had no idea.”

 

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