Shadow Hills (12 page)

I grabbed the first book off the shelf and flipped quickly through it. The pages looked like my dad’s court documents, and every once in a while there would be a mention of the Brevis Vita Alliance. I pulled out the next book, labeled
THE COUNCIL:
1970–1980. One of the later entries caught my eye, and I stopped flipping. This page was different—for one thing, I could actually read it.

That for numerous and serious violations against the Brevis Vita Canon of Ethics, the following persons shall be required to remove themselves and their possessions, after a fair and just recompense for all properties abandoned from the environs of the township of Shadow Hills, Massachusetts:

The list went on for about twenty more names, but I stopped reading.

Banished? People were actually being banished in the 1970s? And banished from what? I presumed it must be from this Brevis Vita Alliance, or maybe it was the Council. But what had these people done that was awful enough to warrant banishment? Were these the same people that Mr. Carr and the other man had been arguing about when I’d overheard them in the hospital? For all I knew, they routinely kicked people out of … whatever it was they were kicking them out of.

I turned back to the first few pages, hoping maybe the Canon of Ethics was in the beginning of all the books.
No such luck. Most likely it was in one from the 1800s, probably when it was first established
.

I checked my cell’s clock. It was a little past eight thirty.
Two movies and pizza? That had to take at least three and a half hours
. Which meant I should have until nine thirty. I turned around and pulled the chair out from the desk so I could open the top drawer. I sifted through it, looking for a key to the file cabinets, but instead I found a set of flash cards and two folders rubber-banded together.

Flash cards? Curious, I picked them up and turned them over. On top was a blue star. I went to the next. It showed a red ball. I went through them rapidly, finding drawings of different shapes in assorted colors. Pretty simplistic flash cards for a gang of high IQs. But there was something familiar looking about them …

I remembered a TV show I had seen where they were investigating psychics—they had used cards like this to test
people with ESP abilities.
Okaaay … Cue the
Twilight Zone
theme now
.

I straightened the cards and returned them to the drawer, then pulled out the folders and removed the rubber band connecting them, setting them side by side on the desk. There was a note paper-clipped to each folder. I tried to decipher the scrawl of the memo that had been attached to the bottom file.

Ms. Kramer? My psychology teacher was doing some kind of weird, secret testing thing? I pulled the note off the folder that had been on top. It was labeled Brody Kincaid.

Even though Graham had already told me that Brody was an orphan, I still felt an overwhelming sense of sadness reading about how Brody’s parents’ deaths had affected him. I knew how awful it was to lose someone important in your life, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have no family whatsoever.

I opened Brody’s file, hoping for some kind of record of what had happened to his parents, but there were only three pages, all dated August 29 of this year. They were meaningless to me, a bunch of numbers with one letter from
A–D
next to them,
like answers to a multiple-choice test. I looked back at the file cabinets.
What do you want to bet Brody’s permanent file with his whole history is in there?

I renewed my search for keys, dropping into a squat so I could look in the side drawers.

“Hello, Goldilocks.”

My hand tightened around the drawer handle instinctively, my knuckles going white.

Trent was standing on the other side of the desk. His folder was still lying there, out in the open, with the note on top.
He knows I read it
. I forced myself to loosen my grip on the handle, and then I stood up slowly. My feet felt embedded in the floor, like concrete had been poured all around them.

“Looks like you’ve been doing some snooping.” Trent smiled, picking up the paper clip and the advisory note that had been on his file.

I watched Trent warily. After reading Ms. Kramer’s note, I was even more uneasy around him than before. He stuck the slip of paper into the front pocket of his jeans, then slid the other note back under the paper clip on Brody’s folder. Trent placed the rubber band back around the two folders, Brody’s on top, his on bottom. Except now there was no note on Trent’s folder.

I took a deep breath. I had to say something, but what?
I decided to break into your secret society’s hidden crypt to dig up answers you don’t want me to find?
Honesty was probably not the best policy at this point in time.

“I’m trying to cheat on a test,” I blurted out. Being turned in
to the campus security had to be better than being turned over to “the Council.”

“A test?” Trent was so not buying this load of crap.

“For psychology on Monday.” At least Trent was in that class with me and we were actually having a test.

“So why aren’t you in Ms. Kramer’s office, then?” Trent raised an eyebrow.

“I, um, overheard some students talking about a secret psychology office in the library where Ms. Kramer kept her tests and stuff….” I trailed off lamely.

“Um-hmm.” Trent pursed his lips, regarding me as if he found me mildly amusing. “And who were these students you heard saying this?”

“I didn’t actually see them. I was sort of eavesdropping.” That part was mostly true.

“Okay.” Trent’s cold eyes glittered. “I’ll pretend to believe this story of yours for now. And tomorrow after school, when we go to the café at the SAC, you’ll have had some time to construct a slightly more plausible alibi.”

“The café at the SAC? For, like, a date?” My voice came out all squeaky.

“Yes, a date. Unless you would rather I talk to some of your friends.” Trent cocked his head to the side as if he was thinking, his long hair falling across one eye. “Doesn’t that Graham guy work in the school office? Maybe he could tell me where you got the library key.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Trent knew he had me with this.

“Sure.” I tried to muster up the brightest smile I could. “Sounds great. But I can’t do it tomorrow afternoon.”

“Fine. We’ll make it Wednesday after school.” Clearly he wasn’t going to be easily dissuaded.

“All right,” I agreed. “I’ll meet you Wednesday.”

“Wonderful.” The self-satisfaction in Trent’s voice made me want to rip out his perfectly disheveled hair. “Now, we should get this place back in order, don’t you think?”

I nodded silently. Trent put the folders into the drawer and followed me out of the room. He removed the gold key from the bookcase after he pushed it closed. He obviously knew where the key was kept because he headed straight to the front desk and dropped it in the box, then put it back in the drawer. A minute later, I was locking the library door with my stolen keys. I was afraid Trent would try to walk me to my dorm, and I had to get back to Graham’s room pronto. I was trying to think of an excuse to get rid of Trent when I heard a man say his name.

“Dad?” Trent spun around. “What are you doing on campus so late?” He instantly sounded less arrogant and more like a child.

I looked at my phone: 9:28. People would be leaving the SAC any minute now. I had to get out of here.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Trent’s father seemed menacing, standing in the shadows outside the light from a nearby lamp. “Mom said you were here late studying, though it looks to me like the library is closed.” His tone was suspicious, which was a little hypocritical, given that he was here skulking around
in the dark. “I was getting off work, so I thought I’d offer you a ride home.” I couldn’t see his dad’s eyes in the dim light, but as he turned them on me, I had a feeling they were the same dark, cold color of Trent’s. “Of course, if you’re busy with your friend, I can certainly understand why you might be reluctant to leave.”

I grasped this chance at escape.

“Actually, I have to go back to my dorm to study. I guess Trent and I were both under the same misconception that the library would be open. We just bumped into each other. But nice meeting you.” I trotted off before his dad could get a chance to realize he hadn’t actually met me. For all I knew, he worked here at Devenish, and I didn’t need any more witnesses to where I was tonight.

Once I was out of their sight I ran as fast as I could back to Garrettson. I didn’t even bother to take off my shoes when I reached the tile lobby. I closed my eyes tightly as I crossed in front of their housemaster’s door.
The old peek-a-boo trick—if I can’t see you, you can’t see me
. It must have worked. When I opened my eyes again, the hall was still clear. I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and burst through Graham’s door.

“Holy shit!” A boy was sitting on the other bed in Graham’s room, and at my entrance he jumped to his feet. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

I stared back at the guy in almost equal astonishment.
Crap, why hadn’t I remembered that Graham had a roommate?

“Umm …” I knew I had maybe five minutes before Graham returned and found me in his room with his stolen ring of keys in my pocket. “I think Graham’s mom is sick. Some woman called me and left a hysterical message; I can hardly understand it. Do you know where he is?”

“No. I’m not his keeper.” The boy was obviously annoyed.

“His mom could be dying! You should check the bathroom. He might be in there!” I tried not to exclaim
too
loudly; the last thing I needed was for the housemaster to discover me.

“Why would Graham be in the bathroom?”

It was like this guy was
trying
to stall me
.

“Because he had chili for lunch. Just go find him.”

Finally, he got up and left. I opened the drawer and put the keys back where I’d found them.

“He’s not in there.” Graham’s diabolical roommate had come back before I could leave. “Do you want me to call him?”

“Oh, no. The woman called back and it turns out it was my
mom, not his. And she, um, won the lottery,” I improvised. “She was just really excited.” A familiar voice was floating up from the sidewalk. I walked over and looked out the window. Graham was home.

How could I avoid running into him now? Could I possibly go out the window?
I peered at the lush green lawn below. There
was
a pipe next to the window that I could hold on to. And characters were always going down trellises in movies. Hell, I used to climb my gym’s rock wall all the time in L.A. This wouldn’t be that different, right?

“Actually …” I pushed open the window. “I have a huge crush on Graham, and it would be so embarrassing if he found out I came by. He would probably think I was stalking him or something.”

The roommate raised his eyebrows.

“Which I’m totally not. I just got confused, but now I’m not, so maybe we could keep this between you and me. I’d really appreciate it.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to tell him if he asked.” The roommate shook his head.

“Well, then, I’m going to be leaving now.” I slung a leg out of Graham’s window, ignoring the vertigo that seized me when I looked down.

“You’re going out the window?” the roommate asked, appalled.

“I’m on the rock-climbing team.”
I was pretty sure Devenish had an indoor rock-climbing wall at the Athletics Center
. “Gotta get all the practice I can, you know.” I swung the other leg out
and held on to the ledge while my feet searched to find the pipe next to the window. I made contact. “Thanks again,” I added before dropping out of sight.

Crap, crap, crap
, I chanted to myself as I slowly made my way down the metal pole, bracing my feet against the brick wall.
Maybe I really should take rock climbing here
, I pondered.
It might be a good skill to have if I’m going to be breaking into places all the time
. Finally, I felt soft earth under my feet, and I collapsed onto the ground. A guy who was walking by gave me a strange look as I dusted myself off and ran back to Kresky Hall.