Coin Heist (12 page)

I looked out the window and saw a security guard doing his rounds on the plant floor. Again, I noted the time on the clock.

When Garcia came back, he handed me the stack of papers I wouldn't need. Then he walked me down to the gift shop and we stopped in front of a black-paneled door in between the displays.

“What's in there?” I asked Garcia. “Stockroom?”

“That's the security station,” he said.
Bingo.

He shook my hand and offered me a keychain in the shape of the original quarter. “A souvenir,” he said, “for your hard work.”

I smiled tightly and thanked him. I felt bad for tricking Garcia. He was a super-nice guy, and it wasn't his fault that he was our man on the inside. But I was here on a mission. My crew was counting on me. I had to talk to Alice and make sure, in case we ever got caught, that none of this could be traced back to him.

Back in the safety of my car, my whole body buzzed like I'd had five espressos and a bag of jellybeans—which I'd done once, on a particularly stressful night before a pre-calc exam, and can I tell you? It was pretty sickening. Only now I was completely giddy. I couldn't believe what I'd just pulled off—or how much I enjoyed it.

I dialed Benny. As the phone rang once, twice, three times, I realized that I was clutching it like it was the thing I'd stolen. I couldn't wait for him to answer.

When he finally did, his voice was like a reassuring hug. “Yo.”

“I got it, I think.”

“Cool,” he said, through what sounded like a smile. I could picture his eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Meet you tonight?”

We had this part worked out, too. I needed to give him the info, but we had to do it in private, with no witnesses. Besides the fact that there was the whole criminal thing going on, I knew my parents wouldn't exactly be thrilled about this guy from North Philly sneaking around their property. They were so judgmental and narrow-minded—they didn't even know him.

“On my back patio. Behind the pool house,” I said, aware, suddenly, that it sounded like a date. Worse than that—
oh God
—it sounded like a booty call. What if Dylan ever found out? It could travel through the jock grapevine, and how could I explain what Benny was doing at my house without giving away the truth? And of course, the truth sounded even sketchier. Who would believe it?

“Got it.”

And as we hung up, I also realized, weirdly enough, that the booty call idea didn't bother me as much as it probably could have. I'd been noticing that Benny was kind of cute, actually. Also, there was something about him that made me feel calm inside. And sadly, I couldn't say that about a single other person on planet earth.

I drove back to school, just in time for lunch. Then I spent a little more time fixing my makeup again in the car. I could bring it down a few notches now that I was back in school, so I unpinned my hair. My hands were still shaking, only now it was from exhilaration more than anything else.

What had I just done? Stealing property, identity theft, fraud—things I should be ashamed of. And yet I felt a dangerous tickling sensation, like the lightest hand running through my hair. It was
fun
.

As I crossed the parking lot, I was texting Alice and Jason to let them know I'd succeeded (code word: “yo”) so I totally didn't see Rankin walking in the other direction, carrying a big load of boxes, and I guess he couldn't see me over the boxes because we bumped hips. I was so startled, I dropped my phone.

“You all right there, Dakota?”

I startled, almost shouting. “What? I'm fine!”

Was he looking at me? Did he know? How could he know? That would be ridiculous. I was just being paranoid. He was just being Rankin.

He frowned. “You seem a little off-balance.”

“No,” I said. “Just a little on edge.”

Sixteen

BENNY

It was so
dark out I could barely see. Dakota's pool house was closed. At least I thought it was the pool house from how she'd described it to me—it looked more like a house-house, like it could sleep ten people. But it was next to the pool, which was next to the tennis courts, which was next to some other building that looked like a garage. Whatever. The place was sick.

Anyway, I'd done what she'd told me—parked on the side of the road about half a mile away, then hiked down her long driveway. Any minute I kept waiting for the cops to show up, or at least some hired security dude, ready to scare me off the property. I belonged here about as much as I belonged at HF: not at all.

Somehow, with all this EagleFly business, I'd been sucked into HF's crazy drama whether I wanted to be or not. There was that whole scene during third period when Dakota's boyfriend was stuffing an albino rat into Jason's locker. There were a few of us around, and he wanted us to watch as he tried to get it through the slats. It was a dick move but I didn't say anything. I didn't want to call attention to myself, so I just kept sitting there on the floor, pretending to read like I always did during free periods.

Then, out of nowhere, who should show up but Alice. She went right up to Dylan and kicked him in the ankle. Then she took the rat and tucked it into her shirt. He was all, “What the hell?” And she was like, “Rats take care of their injured peers, unlike you. And they don't sweat, definitely unlike you. Ergo, this rat is more evolved than you. In fact, I'm taking him home.” She even gave it a little kiss on the nose, for real. Then she walked on down the hallway like it was nothing.

That girl had
cojones
the size of front-loader tires. She just didn't give a fuck. Dylan and his friends were just standing there all weirded out after she left. And then he was like, “That girl's an elf. Yo, we should glue the lock on.” What did Dakota see in that guy?

“
Psst
,” Dakota called in a whisper, her silhouette bobbing in front of me. “Where are you?”

“Over here,” I said.

Hands reached out and touched my chest, and then we almost bumped foreheads. “Hey!”

“Sorry,” she said, giggling. “I can't see!”

I tried to make my voice sound normal, even though she'd just touched me. “Don't you guys put the lights on?”

“Not this time of year. No one comes out here. That's why I thought it would be a good place to meet. Sorry I was late. I couldn't get away from my dad—he always wants a progress report on school.”

“Right,” I said. “So do you have the thing?”

“You're all business, aren't you?”

Sounded like she was offended. But it was cold, and super dark, and I needed to get home to do some stuff. Also, Dylan would try to kill me if he knew I was here. Not that I couldn't take that kid, but the last thing I needed was some brawl on the quad with all the preppies watching.

“I thought that's what we were here for.”

I'd been extra careful to keep the lines in place, keep my distance from all of them, but with Dakota it was tough. She didn't seem to notice.

The whole thing was nuts. I'd thought about bailing, a few times, because I had as much to lose as anyone else, if not more. There were plenty of people who'd be happy to see a kid from North Philly in jail.

“Well, we can be human, can't we?”

I remembered our conversation the day I drove her home from school. “Sure,” I said.

“Anyway. Here's the reader. The info should be on there.”

“Great,” I said, taking it from her and zipping it into my backpack. “I'll make us a copy. It was no joke getting those blanks. I had to go through a couple of different channels to get the empty roll. I guess they protect them like that to keep them away from people like us.”

“Criminals, you mean?” she said and I could finally make out her face in the darkness. She was smiling, her eyes shining.

“Ha ha. Yeah.”

“Why are you shaking your head?”

“Because you could never be a criminal.”

“Sure I could. I stole that card today, didn't I?”

“But that was an extreme situation. Believe me, you're no criminal.” I was thinking of the guys I knew in my neighborhood, the ones who got busted over and over, who couldn't stay on the street without the cops breathing down their necks, and they were some rough-looking dudes. “You're too soft . . . and pretty.”

There was a pause then. Now I'd gone and done it. Embarrassed both of us. Why did I have to say she was pretty? Why did I have to cross that line? But you couldn't take something like that back.

She looked at me. “Thanks,” she said softly. “I . . . umm—”

And just then, we heard a door opening, and someone calling out her name. Her pops, probably.

“Dakota? Are you out here?”

I don't know why, just an instinct, but I immediately hit the deck, and my chest slapped against the cold stone of the patio.

She stifled a gasp, looking down at me sprawled at her feet. “Yeah, Dad!”

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“Just . . . meditating,” she answered.

“Well, you'll catch a cold. You can meditate inside.”

“Okay, I'm coming.” And then to me, giggling a little, “You can get up. Are you okay? I thought you fell!”

“I'm a'right,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

Just then, she pulled me closer. At first I thought it was some kind of accident, like before when she was grabbing me in the dark. But it couldn't have been an accident, her lips lined up perfectly with mine as she leaned in. The slightest pressure. Soft. Her hair was loose, brushing against my neck.

My arms were around her, pulling her even closer. It's not like I thought about it.

I couldn't think of anything. My mind went blank. It was dark, but my eyes were closed anyway, and in all that blackness, it felt like there was nothing else around us.

Before I knew what we were doing, our tongues got involved, too. Her mouth had a fresh taste, like parsley, and my hand went right to her jawline, tracing it with my fingers. Her skin, it was so smooth and warm.

I couldn't believe what was happening. It was the longest shortest moment of my life. For real.

“Dakota!”

She pulled away and met my lips again with hers, like she was almost sealing the kiss. I couldn't have spoken a single word if I tried. I was that shocked.

And before we could say anything else, she was hurrying back up the hill. “You'd better go,” she hissed. “See you tomorrow!”

Yeah, we'd see each other. That was no news flash. We went to the same damn school. It just felt weird, her leaving like that, in the middle of everything. She'd kissed me!

But maybe I should've been grateful, because if she'd stayed, I would have had to say something more, and what the hell would I say? The whole thing was bananas. Even so, I had to smile a little as I walked to my car. Sometimes you had to let a moment be a moment. Sometimes being a fool felt really, really good.

Seventeen

ALICE

“Here's a question.
If you were gonna break a video feed, how would you do it?” I asked Greg. We were sitting at Grinders Café, which was walking distance from his house. We sometimes went there to do our homework, especially if his little twin brothers were home, because they were always getting in our business.

“You mean gaining access to a camera remotely?”

“Right.”

He frowned, his already thin lips stretching into a wider line, as he leaned back in his creaky wooden chair. There'd been times, many times, that I wished I could have found him attractive, because maybe our friendship could have been nudged over the hookup cliff, but I didn't. I mean, he had decent if a little pasty skin, a good-size nose, short dark hair he kept clipped in a buzz cut, and these very round brown eyes that sprung out like question marks. None of the features were bad, but something about the way it was all put together looked like they'd been cut and pasted from different sources.

Not that I was some hottie. But still. As far as social math was concerned, I was already a null set—if I was going to be alone anyway, I could afford to be picky.

“Well, I guess I'd check to see if there was a default password from the manufacturer. If not, I'd use a brute force attack,” he answered finally. “Are you spying on your parents again? What kind of system do they have?”

“It's pretty sophisticated,” I said, not answering his question.

“Yeah, I'd go with brute force then.” He went back to his iPad, where he was reviewing his European History notes for a test.

“Hmm.” I stirred my cocoa, watching the marshmallows foam and spin as I thought. “And what if I wanted to substitute another feed?”

Now he put down his iPad and looked at me. “That's out of my league. You'd need some kind of existing footage. Why would you need to swap out the feed? Is this for the science fair? I thought you were going to construct the hexadecimal converter for binary coded output.”

“I am,” I said. “I was just wondering.”

“I don't know. You'd have to talk to an expert. Have you gone on the message boards?”

“A couple.” I could see he was still more suspicious than I wanted him to be. “Never mind. It was a hypothetical. Brain detour.”

“Well, I'm stuck on history. I've reread this chapter five hundred times but I still don't get how the Balkan tensions led to World War One . . .”

We usually tried to work together on anything non-math related, since we both pretty much only thought in ones and zeroes, but I guess I'd tuned him out, still thinking about security cameras. He rapped the table with his knuckles. “Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

“I'm totally listening,” I said.

“You're not. I love how I can help you with your thought emergencies, but when I need help, you're in la la land. I don't know what's up with you lately.”

“Nothing's up. I'm just busy.”

“Busy with your new buddies, right? Dakota and the rest of them.”

Wow, so even Greg had noticed? I was surprised. He and I had been friends forever, but he didn't get into the touchy-feely stuff. Now I had to come up with an explanation quick. “That's because we're working on a Design project.”

“Whatever. I know what you're up to.”

I looked up, alarmed, and, forgetting what I was doing, felt the hot chocolate spill over and scald my hand.
He knows?

“You're trying to climb the social ladder.”

I actually laughed with relief. “Yeah. Right.”

Greg shook his head. “It's not funny. Don't you see that it's never going to work, Alice? You can try all you want to impress them, but they probably just want to copy your homework. They're using you.”

“They're not ‘using' me.” I put the word “using” in air quotes to show how stupid I thought the idea was. “We're cool.”

He snorted. “Very cool. And what the hell was that thing I heard about with the rat in Jason's locker? You
kicked
Dylan Sanders?”

“Dylan was being a jerk. I didn't want him to kill that poor rat.”

“So you took it on yourself to save the day?”

“What? What's your problem?”

“My problem is that it's stupid, Alice.” He got in my face then, his question-mark eyes all bugged out. “If you're so cool with Dakota, how come she didn't invite you to her friend's party this weekend?”

Party? What party? I hadn't heard about any party. I couldn't let Greg see my surprise, though.

“I was invited,” I lied, mostly just to prove him wrong. “I just didn't want to go. We have plans, remember?”

The truth was, I'd heard nothing about the party. But even if I had, would I have gone? Probably not. Definitely not.

“Well, thanks for not
completely
dissing me.” His tone was sarcastic.

“I'm not dissing you at all. I'm allowed to talk to other people. I don't see what the big deal is.” That was disingenuous. I did know what the big deal was. I'd been aware of it since the first day Jason sat with me in Design.

“I'm looking out for you, Alice. That's what friends do. I've known you since third grade, and I know you're not like them.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Dakota Cunningham? Football meatheads? Jason Hodges? What, are you gonna start dating him now or something? Be real. You're not his type, and even if you were, it would be completely beneath you to go out with such a . . . burnout.” His downturned mouth displayed his utter revulsion.

“He's smarter than he looks,” I said, feeling my face warm with the mention of him. “And nicer, too. He's a good guy.” I was annoyed, too, that Greg was so quick to judge, and, worst of all, that he'd homed in on my exact intention, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself. “You don't know him.”

“I don't. You're right. Just remember who your real friends are when the project ends, okay? We're the ones with the goblets and daggers.”

This was ridiculous. I didn't need to be lectured. “Yeah, okay,” I said, standing up and stuffing my books into my bag. I'd remember, all right.