Front Page Face-Off (19 page)

“You'll be fine.” Major moved to clap me on the back, then thought better of it. “A little hard work never killed anyone.”

“How about books? Have they ever killed anyone?”

He nudged me toward the door. “Head straight home, all right? I'll see you in about an hour.”

“Okay.” I leaned against the door and readjusted my grip. “But if I'm not there, look for me on the side of the road. I'll probably be buried under these.”

The walk to the bus stop was painful, and it involved a great deal of sweating in Jenner's gym clothes, which released a crowd-scattering odor. When I finally climbed onto the bus, I dreaded the moment it would pull up to my stop … until I saw Marcus waiting there.

Mixed emotions of happiness and horror coursed through me. On the one hand, I was about to bump into him. On the other hand, I smelled like a mule farmer. Ducking low in my seat, I said a prayer to the gods of public indecency and pulled off my shirt, trading it for Marcus's sweater. There was no way I could get into the skirt without extreme embarrassment, so I simply hoped Marcus would be too tall for the stink of Jenner's pants to reach him.

Running my fingers through my hair, I slung my bag over one shoulder,
grabbed the mountain of books, and walked off the bus in a cool, calm manner. When Marcus saw me, he smiled and got up.

“Hey, Delilah. I was starting to think you'd never show up.”

“You were waiting for me?” My heart fluttered, and my hand went up to play with my hair. Unfortunately, one of the heavier books had pinned my sleeve down, so when I lifted my arm, the top half of the stack tumbled to the sidewalk. “Ugh!”

Marcus stooped and grabbed the books but didn't hand them to me. “Yeah. I thought I'd walk you home and we could talk about your trip to Sheldon.” He tugged at the sweater. “Just out of curiosity, why are you still wearing this?”

I glanced down and blushed. “Oh! Um … it's just really comfortable and I'm a little chilly.”

His forehead wrinkled. “You look like you've been sweating buckets. Maybe you have a fever.”

I wiped at my face with the sleeve. “No. I was just really nervous breaking into Sheldon.” Suddenly I realized how gross I must have looked, using his sweater like a sponge, and I lowered my arm. “Sorry. I'll wash this and get it back to you.”

“No hurry,” he said. “So, how
was
Sheldon? Did you”—he waggled his eyebrows—“uncover the truth?”

“Of course.” I started walking toward my street. “And
it was
very
juicy … but you already knew that.”

He nodded and listened while I explained everything I'd learned.

“You should talk to Katie, you know,” he said when I finished. “Before you talk to Paige.”

“I'm going to,” I said. “Maybe I can get her to do an interview with me like you did.”

Marcus nudged my arm. “I wanted to talk to you about that, too. That article you wrote was great.”

I rolled my eyes. “You mean the one
Ava
wrote?”

“Yeah,” he winced. “Sorry about that. But you know you wrote it, and
I
know you wrote it, and I've been telling people that whenever they talk to me.”

“You have?” I looked up at him in surprise. Ben's response to my distress had been to do nothing, but Marcus had made an effort to set things straight on his own. If my arms hadn't been about to fall off, I would have hugged him.

“Thank you,” I said. Then the rest of his words sank in. “Wait. People have been going up to you?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “They keep telling me they never knew what I'd been going through and that they've felt the same way, and that they're so sorry. Then I say that
I'm
sorry for any trouble I caused, and the girls cry, and the guys punch me in the arm.” He shifted his portion of the books to one side and squeezed my shoulders. “And it's all because of you.
That article might be the greatest thing you've ever written.”

His compliment should have made me happy, but I couldn't get the image of Ava's name attached to
my
work out of my mind.

“The greatest thing”—I shrugged him off—“that people are giving her credit for!”

Marcus stared at me in bewilderment. “Why are you upset? I told you I've been fixing it.”

“You don't understand. This was the first issue of the year and a
huge
article, and no matter what you say, people are still going to remember Ava's name when they think about it. Plus, she has this lie she's been telling people about why she wrote it that makes me look like a jerk.”

“So what?” He waved a dismissive hand. “This is school. It's not the rest of your life.”

I glared at him. “Says the guy who made me write the article so everyone would like him.”

Instead of getting furious, Marcus blushed and lowered his eyes. “I don't need everyone to like me. Just you.”

“Oh,” I said. He had discovered the quickest way to soothe an angry girl's temper—blatant flattery. “What?”

“Don't get me wrong,” he said. “I'm still happy that people aren't treating me like a mutant anymore, but whenever you don't like me, it makes me feel a hundred times worse than anyone else does.”

“Well,” I cleared my throat. “Well … I …” I licked my lips. “I like you right
now
.”

Marcus smiled. “And that makes me feel a hundred times better.”

We reached my front yard and he walked with me up to the porch.

“Thanks for your help,” I told him. “And … I'll see you tomorrow.” I gave him a polite nod, unsure of how to handle things, since we'd just admitted our feelings but weren't yet officially … anything.

“Sure. Let me just give you these.” Marcus loaded the books he was carrying back into my arms. “And this …” While I was busy trying to shuffle them into my pile, he reached out and put a hand on my back, pulling me to him.

I froze and watched him move closer and closer, knowing what he was about to do but struck with so many emotions, I couldn't react. His nose bumped against mine, I could smell his skin, and suddenly my eyelids were too heavy to stay open.

The next thing I knew, his lips were pressing against mine so that I felt like melting into a puddle on the porch. I lifted one of my hands to touch his face and forgot all about the ton of books in my arms. They crashed to the ground, smashing our toes.

“Ow,” Marcus mumbled. “You okay?”

“I think my sneaker is filling with blood,” I whispered back.

We laughed, and Marcus finally stepped away. I looked at the mess of books at our feet. “That was some kiss.”

He grinned and nudged one of the books with his shoe. “Hopefully it was a little better than Ben's.”

“Absolutely.” I took his hand. “This time there was no public shame and crying.”

We laughed again, and Marcus squeezed my fingers. “Well, I hate to say good-bye. …”

“You should go.” I nodded. “My stepdad would probably freak if he saw that a boy knew where I lived.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Bye.”

He pulled back, wearing a goofy smile. “Bye. I'll see you tomorrow. And don't be too upset about the paper thing. Ava'll get what's coming to her someday.”

I watched him jog down the street. “Yes, she will,” I murmured. “And that day will be tomorrow.”

Gathering all the books and stacking them by the door, I sat on the pile and called Jenner.

“Since my caller ID doesn't say ‘County Jail,' I'll assume you haven't done anything crazy yet.” She groaned. “Which means you're planning to do it tomorrow.”

“That's why I'm friends with you,” I said. “You're so smart.”

Jenner sighed. “I'm going to try once more to talk you out of this.
Please
just let it go before someone gets hurt.”

“Nobody's going to get hurt,” I promised. “I'm just going to pull off one mega-prank that'll ensure Ava never messes with me again.”

“Well, I'm not helping,” she said. “I'm sorry, but I have that tournament coming up and I
cannot
afford to get in trouble.”

“Relax.” I dug my hand into my pocket and fished out the twenty. “I just need you to come get some money and buy a few things at the grocery store.”

Despite her earlier refusal, I could still hear the curiosity in her voice. “The grocery store?”

“Make a list,” I said. “Starting with chocolate syrup and Cool Whip. It has to be Cool Whip.”

In Jenner's opinion, Brighton Junior Academy before sunrise was the perfect backdrop for a teen horror film. Strange noises echoed in the silence, making vacuum cleaners sound like growling beasts and soft conversation sound like the whisper of wandering spirits.

She cowered behind me as we crept down the hallway, the emergency lights our only guide in the dark.

“I just wanted to let you know,” she said, “that if something jumps out at us, I'm going to push you toward it and
run. But I will totally come back later and ID your body for the coroner.”

“Thanks,” I said wryly. “It's so good to have a friend like you.”

“Hey, I've already proven what a good friend I am by buying
this
junk.” She held up a plastic bag with Cool Whip, chocolate syrup, and a handful of other items. “And after telling you last night that I wasn't going to help, somehow I'm here.”

“Only as a lookout,” I reminded her. “Now quiet, before someone hears us.”

Jenner clamped her mouth shut and crouched even lower, as if that made her invisible. Even though I knew no other student would be crazy enough to get to school so early, I still poked my head into each locker bay before walking past.

When we reached Ava's locker, I cracked the combination, opened the door, and took out all her personal items except one binder … her journalism one. I angled it so the higher end faced the inside of her locker and the lower end butted up against the bottom front. Then I reached into a duffel bag I'd brought with me and pulled out a dozen small balloons, all inflated and tied together with a length of transparent thread.

“Hand me the Cool Whip and a spatula, please.” I held out my hand and Jenner passed me the items.

“Is there a reason you said
so
many times that it had to be Cool Whip
and
frozen?” she asked.

I nodded and began spreading the tub of topping over one of the balloons. “It won't melt as quickly as regular whipped cream.” I finished with the first balloon and moved on to the second.

“Aha.” Jenner laid the bag at my feet. “I think this is the point where I switch to being a lookout.”

“Okay, but you're missing all the fu-un,” I sang, coating another balloon.

Five minutes later, I held a dozen fluffy white clouds on a string. I added a drizzling of chocolate syrup to the top of them until the whole thing looked almost good enough to eat. Then I worked the thread through one of the top slats of the locker so the balloons were inside and the thread was tied to the outside handle. I stepped back and studied my work. The thread was almost invisible, and if someone were momentarily distracted, they wouldn't even notice.

Next I took a narrow piece of cardboard, bent it in half, and wedged one end in the top of the locker door below Ava's, working the other end so that it stuck out of the bottom slat of Ava's. After giving it a quick test for sturdiness, I reached into my duffel bag and very carefully lifted out a wobbly balloon the size of a cantaloupe.

“
What
is in there?” Jenner hissed from the edge of the locker bay.

I grinned at her. “For instant fun, just add water.”

I laid the aquatic bundle behind the cardboard barrier, which held it in place. Then I brought out a second water balloon, propping it behind the first.

With the water balloons secure and the regular balloons tied up in the top of her locker, I closed the door quietly and pulled the cardboard barrier out through the slat.

“That's it?” asked Jenner, coming over to join me. “That's all you're doing?”

“Yep.” She didn't need to know about the toothpaste and glitter.

Jenner grinned. “Well, that wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. I may just break out my camera at prank time.”

“I'd love it if you would.” I gave her a grin of my own, though she couldn't know the added glee behind mine. “Now let's get out of here before someone sees us.”

With an hour to go before school started, we ducked into an empty classroom, and Jenner told me the latest good news about her surfing.

“They're going to interview me for a segment on girls who break the gender mold!” she said excitedly. “You know, like you did in your article.”

“Only theirs won't be riddled with spelling errors and
incomplete sentences,” I said with a smirk.