by C. L. Stone
SANG THE SPY
Monday morning, I was dragging through a quiz in geometry when the overhead intercom buzzed. “Could you please send Sang Sorenson to the main office?”
I stiffened at my desk. Since it wasn’t specific, I wasn’t sure if it was Hendricks or McCoy calling after me.
I glanced at North, who sat up and turned, his intense dark eyes gazing back at me, telling me he’ll go with me. I dropped a casual hand on his shoulder as I passed his desk and shot him a look I hoped he understood. I’d make sure Mr. Blackbourne was watching. I’d be okay.
I wished I believed it.
Nathan had been sitting behind me. He was up now, alert and eager to disbelieve my quiet pleas to go alone, but one look from North settled it. If he didn’t get to go, Nathan wasn’t going either.
I walked through the empty corridors. Echoes floated to me from teachers talking in their classrooms. As I gazed into the different classes in session, I wondered what it was like for any of the other girls who didn’t get called down to the office nearly every day, or have to worry about playing a puppet for the principal. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be invisible, where no one cared and no one talked to me. I was happy to have the guys, and I’d do anything to keep them with me, but it didn’t make being a watch dog for Hendricks any less nerve wrenching.
Facing the front office, I slipped the phone into my hands.
Sang: Have to go to the main office. I don’t know who is calling for me.
Blackbourne: I’m watching.
I hoped that would be good enough.
The front office had only a couple other students sitting inside. Before I had a chance to close the door behind me, the secretary’s head snapped up. “Miss Sorenson, you can go on to Mr. Hendricks’s office. He’ll be with you in a minute.”
It rattled me that she knew my name. I guess I’d been in the office enough that I was becoming familiar. I sucked down some air for courage and carried my things with me down the dim hallway toward the Principal’s office.
The office door was open, but no one was inside. I dropped my bag on the floor, sitting down in the orange chair.
I started to daze off, wondering where Mr. Hendricks was and why he called me down when he wasn’t here. I straightened, aware that I was alone in the office. It wasn’t the time to stare off and wait.
I glanced at the desk casually, listening for any sign of someone approaching. There was a small notepad on the desk.
I leaned forward. From the light above, I could see the shadows of indentions, where Mr. Hendricks had written something on the paper. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the way it was tilted to particular paperwork underneath made it look like he was keeping notes as he was reading.
I listened carefully again. No noise except for deep down the hallway in the main office. No one coming.
I popped up, finding the edge of the top piece of notepad paper, ripping it from the binding. I swiped out a tiny bit of paper that tried to remain attached, so Mr. Hendricks wouldn’t notice I had taken the paper.
I caught a glance at the paperwork underneath. There were figures in columns, and something about insurance for football team members at the top, along with the football team roster, including Silas and North.
There was a list of people on a simple sticky note on his desk. Some names were crossed out, mine was near the top, not crossed out yet.
Marie’s name was listed, as well as Jade, Rocky, Jay, and Ms. Johnson, the English teacher, Mr. Morris, the history teacher, and a couple other faculty members as well. There was also the football coach and names of people I didn’t recognize.
A list of names, including me. Allies? Not entirely. I was on the list. Definitely persons of interest.
I didn’t know for sure, but I had a hunch a couple of them might have been partners. Maybe one of them had been following Kota. Or at least knew who was.
It was also possible one of them knew why Mr. Hendricks felt the need to kick out the Academy boys. What could Mr. Hendricks be up to?
I tried to simply memorize the list of names in my head over and over, but there were too many.
I checked the hallway quickly, pulled my phone out. I used the camera option and snapped a picture. I snapped a second just in case. I also took a picture of the football insurance paperwork underneath. While I didn’t have the handwritten notes, just the indentions on the notepaper, I thought someone could trace over it with a pencil and read whatever it was.
If it was interesting enough to Mr. Hendricks to write it down, Mr. Blackbourne probably wanted to know about it.
Footsteps in the hallway made me jump and fumble. I nearly dropped my phone. I planted my phone back into the confines of my bra and retreated to my orange chair. I slipped the notepad paper into my book bag pocket.
Mr. Hendricks appeared in the doorway. He moved out of the way, holding the door handle, and held it open. He partially turned to me. “One second, Miss Sorenson.” He looked on down the hallway, waiting.
I watched him, confused.
Mr. McCoy sauntered in. Mr. Hendricks closed the door after him. The Principal and the Vice Principal.
What was I supposed to do now? I tried not to look as terrified as I felt. I knew Mr. Blackbourne was watching and listening. I tried to trust in that. If Mr. Blackbourne wanted me to leave now, he’d make sure I knew. I wasn’t alone with Mr. McCoy, so I wasn’t sure if leaving was appropriate now.
Mr. McCoy remained by the door. He crossed his arms in front of his suit jacket, standing like a guard.
Mr. Hendricks crossed the room, heading to his desk. “Sorry about that,” he said in an almost friendly way. “We’ve got a little thief breaking into the upstairs lockers. We’ve had students coming in all day complaining about missing money and cell phones. The little minions haven't figured out the purpose of bank accounts and a wallet.”
Mr. McCoy gave a laugh at this.
“I understand,” I said. I didn’t, really. Why bother with someone like me when they had someone stealing from students? Sacrificing student safety and wellbeing for petty revenge seemed so irresponsible.
“Well,” Mr. Hendricks said. “Let me hear about what lies Mr. Blackbourne fed you this week if you’d like to get it out of the way.”
I had nothing prepared. “I’m sorry, he hasn’t told me anything specific.”
“So he knows you’re feeding me information?”
He already assumed, but he had the wrong idea. “He knows we talk.”
Mr. Hendricks seemed to perk up at this. “And you’ve been getting closer to him? Have you found out where he lives?”
“I only meet him for class. I’ve not been invited to his house yet.”
“Miss Sorenson,” he said. He blew out a sigh. “If I give you a job, I expect you to do it.”
I wasn’t sure what to offer him. I knew nothing to tell him. I knew certain things, but nothing that would bring him any closer to getting the guys kicked out like he wanted.
They were thieves once.
My lips clamped shut. I wouldn’t relay this information. But I had to give him something, didn’t I?
And maybe it could be something where I’d get more information, too.
“They do realize they’re being followed,” I said. “I thought it might have been...” I scanned my brain for the list he’d had on his desk. “Well, maybe Ms. Johnson ...”
Mr. McCoy chuffed. I slid a glance at Mr. McCoy, catching him rolling his eyes. Not Ms. Johnson.
“And then I heard a rumor about a student named Rocky...”
Mr. Hendricks coughed. He shifted and leaned forward against his desk. “I’m not interested in your guessing game as to who you think is following the people you are supposed to be watching.”
“But if I’m able to guess the right one, they’re smart enough to figure it out. I know I’m not an expert, but if I can pick up a tail, they’ll know soon enough. Your guy is inexperienced, he’s following too close.”
<
br /> “Whoever is watching the boys isn’t important to you,” Mr. Hendricks said. “So they are laying low right now because they think we’re watching?”
I contemplated this carefully before responding. “Personally? I think they know Kota’s being watched. I mean I’ve been hanging out with him, and he’s pretty boring. Nathan, too.”
“No kidding,” Mr. McCoy said.
I smothered a shiver through my spine. McCoy admitted it. He’d been involved in watching Kota.
Which meant he was on my street.
Which meant he might have been paying attention to my house.
Mr. Hendricks cleared his throat. “So, you’re saying Kota’s probably not the one to watch?”
“I think it’s a wasted effort. If you expect they’ll do something, and they know you’re watching, they’ll stop.”
The principal’s expression changed. It was slight, but the top right corner of his mouth lifted.
This was expected. Planned.
They wanted Kota to stop. Perhaps Nathan, too. They were happy about people being obvious watching us. But why?
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” Mr. Hendricks asked.
Surprised by the discovery of his plan, I didn’t want to divulge anything else. “Not that I can think of.”
Mr. Hendricks was about to open his mouth again when the phone on his desk started ringing. He sighed, picked it up. “Yes? What? Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there in a second.” He sighed, dropping the phone. “We’ve got another break-in upstairs.”
Mr. McCoy rolled his eyes again. “Give me a break. The little niglets are just stealing from each other.”
I tried to hide my surprise at the use of the racial slur.
“The price of being a warden in high school hell.” Mr. Hendricks dropped his palms on the desk, using it to rise. He nodded to me. “You can see yourself out, can’t you?”
I nodded, staring off at the wall, trying not to reveal my own thoughts.
Mr. Hendricks wedged himself around his desk, strolling to the door. Mr. McCoy followed.
I breathed out a sigh. Mission over.
I was collecting my bag when I heard more footsteps in the hallway. I waited just inside the door and out of sight, not wanting to run into another administrator.
Mr. McCoy materialized in the doorway.
I backed up a step, surprised that he returned. My tongue caught in my throat.
“Mr. McCoy,” a familiar voice sounded from the hallway. “Could I bother you for a second?”
Mr. McCoy glared at me, looking like he wanted to tell me something but now with someone else around, wouldn’t admit it out loud.
He turned away from me, addressing the speaker. “Yes, Dr. Green?”
“I’ve got something interesting. I think you should see it.”
“Not now, I’m in the middle of something.”
Dr. Green appeared in the hallway just in front of the door. “Oh,” he said, glancing in and spotting me, but the surprised look appeared fake. He’d known I was there. “Sorry, hate to interrupt.”
“You do have that habit,” Mr. McCoy said.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Dr. Green asked me.
As he said it, the bell rang.
“I believe you’re due for a music lesson, aren’t you?” Dr. Green continued, and his eyes telling me what I needed to know. Head there now. I suspected Mr. Blackbourne was waiting for me.
I took only one more glance at Mr. McCoy before walking around them, marching quickly down the hallway.
Escaping.
A BROKEN SCREAM
The hallways were jumbled with other students transitioning between third and fourth period classes. Since the guys weren’t next to me, I paid special attention, kept my head down, and took the shortest route to class.
I was shuffling in with others inside a narrow hallway when a sharp bump of an elbow hit me in my breast. The pain radiated through my shoulder. I clutched at my chest where I’d been hit.
“Oops,” called a smoky female voice.
I straightened, turning, caught off-guard by a familiar face when at the moment, with the lighting changed and my thoughts still stuck on the encounter with the principal, it took me a moment to recognize her.
But there was no mistaking those sharp eyes that spliced into me, and that raven dark hair.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you,” Jade said, although her tone made it seem like she wasn’t sorry and she had seen me.
I removed my hand from my chest. “Pardon me,” I said, willing to take the blame just to escape her. It was how I dealt with anyone at my old school wanting to cause trouble. Excusing myself and bowing my head and running. It was a rare occurrence but it usually worked.
Jade stepped into my path. “What’s wrong, sugar? In a hurry?”
“I have to get to class.”
She smiled, but it was like looking at the mouth of a cobra, hypnotic and deadly. “Tell North I said hello, won’t you?” She turned away, heading down the hall.
I pushed her out of my mind, but a second thought had me wondering. She was on the list of names associated with Mr. Hendricks. Was this really a random encounter, or was she pinned with following me? Or North?
♥♥♥
North and Nathan were waiting outside the door to Music Room B.
“What kept you?” North asked, his voice a little gruffer than normal, like he’d been using it more lately. Or yelled a lot more.
“Jade ... uhm,” I said. I stumbled for the rest but realized it probably wasn’t important right now.
“Who?” North asked.
I waved my hand in the air. “Nothing. Crowded hallway. Sorry.”
He made a face but opened the door.
“Should we go in with her?” Nathan asked.
“I’ll go in,” North said. “You go to class.”
“Both of you will go to class,” Mr. Blackbourne emerged in the doorway. “Now.”
North straightened. “We need to—”
“Appear completely normal. That’s an order.”
North grunted, glaring but turned, stalking off. Nathan shifted a short look to me but retreated to the hallway to go to class.
Mr. Blackbourne focused on me. “Miss Sorenson.”
“Mr. Blackbourne.”
He directed me inside. I dropped my bag and violin case into one of the chairs.
“It was an interesting choice of topic to discuss with Mr. Hendricks,” he started. He collected his hands behind his back. It was only the slightest lift of one of his eyebrows that told me his mood in an otherwise barren face. There was just a spark of curiosity. “What made you think of it?”
“I wanted to know,” I said. I plucked my phone out of my bra in full view. If he’d been watching, he knew where it was, anyway. I flipped through the phone, finding the list of people and showed it to him. “He’s toying with you.”
Mr. Blackbourne collected my phone, studying the image. “Students and teachers.”
“He knows that you know people are following you. He’s happy about it. It’s like he ...” I paused, knowing the answer, but unsure how to phrase it.
“Wants to keep us contained,” he said. “If he can’t figure out what we’re up to, he’ll make it impossible for us to work. He does it by not allowing us the privacy needed to do whatever he suspects we’re up to.”
I tapped my finger against the side of my chin to think. “So he planted people to play babysitter. And if you did happen to do something, at least he’d have a witness. It isn’t Ms. Johnson, but McCoy has participated.”
“Was it something that Mr. Hendricks said?” he asked. “How do you know one is McCoy?”
“McCoy told me. Well, he didn’t say so, but he ... I don’t know. I’m pretty sure he is, though. And there’s someone else, too. At least watching Kota.”
“Kota did mention you pointed out the differences in the cars. You were correct. They were different, something we didn’t not
ice. It was a good catch.”
“I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have drawn attention to it. I didn’t have anything to offer.”
“Which is exactly how it should be,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “Just keep your eyes and ears open.”
I swiped my fingertips across the material of my skirt, trying to remember what else to tell him. There seemed to be so much. I glanced back at my book bag, retreated to it for the slip of paper. “There was this, too.”
“Of course,” he said, as if he expected this. He flipped over the paper, examining the indentions. “It appears to be monetary figures.”
“It was next to a document about insurance on the football team. I took photographs of the page he was looking at.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up a millimeter. “You’re becoming quite the little team member, Miss Sorenson.”
Was that a compliment? I blushed, unsure how to respond.
He held up my cell phone. “Do you mind if I transfer these to my phone?”
I shook my head. Of course I didn’t mind. I expected him to do something with it, even if he just told me they weren’t useful and to throw them away.
He pulled his phone out, a similar iPhone, and started pushing buttons on it, and mine.
I watched as he worked, rubbing the material of my skirt between my fingertips. “Mr. Blackbourne?”
“Hm?” he said, still concentrating on the phones.
“Why did Mr. McCoy come back?”
“He made an excuse to Mr. Hendricks to return to his office. He claimed to have forgotten his cell phone, which clearly wasn’t the case.”
“Do you think he knows about my parents? Since he’s watching Kota?”
“He hasn’t mentioned it.”
I smoothed my skirt again when I realized I was probably wrinkling it. I didn’t know how to say this next part. It felt like something I should have said to Kota or someone else. “What’s to stop him from coming to my house? Or stopping me in the street if I’m walking to Kota’s?