7 Clues to Winning You (31 page)

Cheers and applause erupted behind Cy. Fists pumped
in the air and whistles flew through the room. People everywhere shouted and jumped.

Luke whispered in my ear, “Half of those people aren’t even doing the hunt.”

A totally goofy smile bloomed on my face. Even people not doing the hunt were there? Unbelievable. “They’re all here for us?” I asked.

“No.” Luke shook his head. “They’re all here for you.”

“What?”

Luke’s sideways smile was as goofy as mine. “Nobody knew I was coming in to confess this morning. I didn’t tell anyone. Cy saw me standing here and must have figured it out. All these people are here for you, Blythe.”

I went numb.

Then I started to float.

I floated up to the ceiling and through the clouds and out into the universe, which was the only place huge enough to contain how full I felt with gratitude and affection.

They were here for me.

The booger girl.

The principal’s kid.

Social outcast and teenage delinquent.

kate4eva.

Blythe.

Me.

I reeled myself back down into the office and immediately started to cry. Luke wrapped his arm around my shoulders and snuggled me. I nuzzled his neck and let my tears soak into his cotton shirt.

“FINE!” screeched Vice Principal Hinkler. It cut through the noise of the crowd like a razor blade. “YOU ARE ALL SUSPENDED! FORM A LINE AND WE WILL PROCESS YOU WITH DUE—”

“MEREDITH!” Dad roared at her. “That is quite ENOUGH!” She froze with her hateful words still hanging in her angry mouth. Dad craned his neck toward her. “I know I charged you with overseeing student discipline, but I think you would agree that suspending the entire junior class and much of the senior class is …”

What was he going to say? That it was unrealistic? Inconvenient? Or some other wimpy thing?

“… absolutely
out of the question
.”

The place exploded again. Everyone started chanting, “PRINCIPAL MAC! PRINCIPAL MAC! PRINCIPAL MAC!”

While Vice Principal Hinkler stormed off and Dad motioned halfheartedly for people to settle down, Luke took my hand and pulled me over to the far corner of the room. “Blythe,” he said, taking both of my hands, “I’m sorry about yesterday in the cafeteria. With the picture.”

“I never should’ve taken it.”

He waved me off. “I never cared about the picture. I just cared about what I thought you might have done with it. Obviously, I was wrong.”

“I was telling you the truth,” I whispered desperately.

“I know you were,” he said. “I knew it then too, but I forced myself to question it. I’m a stupid journalist. You know. After last night when I got your e-mail, I couldn’t question it anymore. I never will again, Blythe. I promise.
And I’m sorry.” Luke kissed me quickly without letting go of my hands.

Dad had sent everyone back to class, and the office was emptying out. When he spotted Luke and me with our hands clasped, he snapped his fingers and pointed at us like a bad lounge singer. “You two should … um … you can get to class, then. Yup. You’re dismissed.”

It was a toss-up over who was blushing more, Dad or me.

Luke and I filed out of the office and into the crowd of students dispersing through the hallways. When we finally had to part, Luke whispered in his low, smoky voice, “Meet me right after school. By your car. Okay?”

I’d go anywhere for him. “Absolutely.”

Over the course of the day, word spread that Dad had decided to officially reinstate the Senior Scramble. Cy had successfully argued that it was technically out of the school’s jurisdiction. It was going forward, whether the administration liked it or not, so they might as well sanction it. Cy would make a fantastic attorney one day.

When the final bell rang at last, I raced out to my car. Luke wasn’t there, but a note was pinned under my windshield wiper. I snatched it up. It was a single printed page that said in large black lettering, CHECK YOUR E-MAIL.

Huh?

Okay, fine. I fished out my phone, turned it on, and pulled up my e-mail account. At the top of the in-box was an e-mail sent directly from The Revolting Phoenix administrators’ account. I opened it.

What? The Senior Scramble had been official for less than a few hours and already the admins felt liberated enough to be sending e-mails around? Wow, that was fast. Did Luke know about this? Where was he, anyway? The parking lot was emptying out quickly.

I logged on to the Revolting Phoenix and a message popped up right away.

I was glad my sign picture was finally approved, but what was with this clue? What did it mean? My only guess was that it referred to the Ash Grove Fighting Eagles, since
Eagle
was capitalized. There were Fighting Eagle pictures and statues all over school. Which was the ragged one?

I waited another fifteen minutes. It was clear Luke wasn’t coming out. The exit door hadn’t opened in over ten minutes, and the last cars had pulled out of the parking lot. I
called him but got his voice mail. I texted him, but there was no reply. Where was he? What should I do?

Hold on. Instead of Luke, the note was here at my car and it had led me directly to this clue. Was the clue connected with Luke’s disappearance? It said that I should start hunting right away. Was I really supposed to follow it? Now? Should I give it a shot?

I waited two more minutes and then I decided to go for it. I locked my bag in the car but kept my phone with me in case Luke called. I went back inside and swung by the gym first since it was close. I knew there was an eagle statue in the vestibule outside the gym doors. When I got there, it was pretty obvious that this wasn’t the ragged eagle. It was in pristine condition, gleaming with layers and layers of varnish.

I needed to find a shabby eagle. A worn-out eagle. One with paint chipped off, maybe. One where a lot of people would touch it as they went by. There was one in the main lobby of the school. That was a high-traffic area for sure. I raced through the halls, surprised that I knew them so well. I got to the lobby and examined the statue. The paint had worn off on several edges, so I checked to see where the beak pointed. It was a solid concrete wall. There was nothing there. This couldn’t be the right eagle. I needed a ragged one.

Ragged. What was ragged?

Fabric was ragged. Were there any Fighting Eagles made of fabric? I had never seen a stuffed-animal Fighting Eagle in the time I’d been there. What about an eagle picture on fabric? Like a pennant.

Or a flag!

I knew exactly where to go. I sped around through the maze of halls and turned into the cafeteria one. Down at the hallway’s dead end hung the huge Ash Grove Fighting Eagles flag I had seen just after starting school here. I looked closely at the flag, and sure enough, the green and yellow fabric was frayed and threadbare in many spots. Where was the eagle’s beak pointing?

THE BEAK WAS POINTING TO MY RIGHT, BUT THERE was nowhere to go. The dead end surrounded me on three sides with solid walls. I checked under the flag, but there was nothing. What could it be pointing at? Other than me, the only thing here was a rusty metal folding chair leaning up against the wall to my right. The direction the beak pointed. I couldn’t imagine how a folding chair could be the answer to the clue, but I checked it out. I unfolded the chair and gasped when I found another note, this one taped to the seat. I opened it and read the verse at the top.

Also on the paper was a bold black arrow pointing straight up. Up must mean forward, I guessed, because forward was the only direction I could go to get out of this
hallway. I jogged to the end and saw a manila envelope on the ground exactly where the halls intersected. It hadn’t been there here five minutes ago when I passed this spot. Where had it come from? I snatched it up and opened it. Inside was a sheet of paper that said, MAY, in the same large, black font as in the note on my car.
Okay,
I thought.
Something about the month of May, perhaps?

Below the word was an arrow pointing left. I turned and started walking. I could see another manila envelope on the floor way ahead, so I ran to it. Inside was another sheet of paper. It said, I, with an arrow pointing left again, down the hallway beside me. Off I went.

I passed two hallways before I saw the third envelope on the floor in front of the main office. It said, TAKE, and the arrow pointed through the office doors. The secretaries and staff were still milling around inside. I tucked the papers and envelopes under my arm and timidly opened the office door. I glanced around the area in front of the counter. I tried to peek inconspicuously under the waiting chairs and in the wastebasket.

I heard a quick whistle and looked up. Gladys beckoned me over to the counter. Without saying a word, she slid a manila envelope across the countertop to me. “Do you know who sent me this?” I asked. Her answer was wink and a grin before she trundled back to her kitty cat desk. I slid my finger under the envelope flap and opened it. The word was YOU.

MAY I TAKE YOU
… ? What did that mean? Were these words in a sentence? Were they even in the right order?
Would I have to figure it out like a puzzle in the newspaper? Oh, no! Was there punctuation missing? Because, “
May I take you
seriously?” is much different than, “
May I take you
to be my wedded wife” or “
May I? Take—you
are welcome to it. Please help yourself.” Not to mention the all caps! AGH!

I wasn’t going to get the answer standing here in the office. I looked at the arrow pointing to the right. But I was turned around now, facing the counter. Did it mean to turn right from where I was standing or turn right as I exited the office? Which way?

I heard another high whistle. Gladys again. She hitched her head to her right and gave me another wink. She meant that I should turn right, out of the office. Good old Gladys, always keeping tabs on everyone else’s business. I smiled, waved thank you to her, and left.

May I take you … May I take you … May I take you …
someplace
. That was the most logical conclusion. But where? And by whom? Was this just going to take me to another string of clues? God, I hoped not!

I spotted a manila envelope tucked between the sliding glass panes in the display case outside the auditorium. I slid it out and tore off the flap.

The word: TO.

The arrow: pointing right, into the auditorium.

May I take you to
… what? To China? To paradise? To court? I pushed through the wooden double doors to the auditorium. Why would I be brought here? Was the sentence going to be
May I take you to your seat?
Ugh! So frustrating.

(But so fun!)

I trotted down the center aisle. In the very front row of seats, next to the aisle, was a chair with an envelope lying on it. I grabbed it.
RIP
went the top.

Word: THE.

May I take you to the
… The what? The moon? The beach? The outer ring of Saturn? The edge of a cliff so I can push you off?

I checked the arrow. It went right, then zigzagged up, then went left, then down, almost in a square. HUH? I looked around. I didn’t see any other envelopes nearby. What could it mean? The only thing I could do was follow it. I turned right and walked as far as the side wall of the auditorium; to my right was another aisle. To my left was …

Stairs! Stairs up onto the stage!

I raced up the stairs and onto the stage until I hit the curtain. I turned left and started crossing the stage. I stopped in my tracks halfway because to my left on the stage, directly down front and center, stood a movable podium. On it lay a manila envelope. I tiptoed quickly to the podium and plopped my stack of six envelopes and papers on top. I grabbed the seventh envelope and tore into it like it was a Christmas present and I was a six-year-old.

My heart stopped when I read the word.

PROM.

MAY I TAKE YOU TO THE PROM.

Ohmygod! Please let this be from Luke! Please! Please! I scanned the auditorium. The entire place was empty. Every seat. Every aisle. Where was he? Wait, was this even the last
word? Maybe this wasn’t the last word! There was no question mark, after all. Plus, there was another arrow. It pointed up, then it curved over and pointed down like a U-turn sign.

I had to turn around.

I spun on my heels to see Luke in a rumpled tuxedo from the costume shop, holding one last sheet of paper that said, PLEASE?

Punctuation plus etiquette. Was this guy for me or what?

I squealed like a pageant queen and jumped into his arms. I pressed my mouth to his, and he held me up off the ground as we kissed. I might as well have been out in space.

He set me back down on earth and said, “I guess that’s a yes, then?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said. “That’s a yes. How did you do all this? When?”

“I started planning it last week. That’s why your sign entry was held for ‘review.’ I needed to make sure that the next clue you got was mine. Just so you know, your sign entry was brilliant. The best by a mile. Everyone loved it.”