written something incredibly wise.

Luke slid his hand into his pocket, his fingertips touching the top of the note. Ms. Hawkins was looking away. Maybe— The door opened behind Luke. Luke jerked his hand out of his pocket.

“Scared you, didn’t I?” a boy jeered. “Made you jump.”

Luke was used to being teased. He had older brothers, after all. But Matthew and Mark’s teasing never sounded quite so mean. Still, Luke knew he had to answer.

“Sure. I’m jumpy like a cat,” Luke started to say. It was an expression of his mother’s. Being cat-jumpy was good. Like being quick on his feet.

Just in time, Luke remembered he couldn’t mention cats. Cats were illegal, too, outlawed because they might take food that was supposed to go to starving humans. Back home, Luke had seen wild cats a few times, stalking the countryside. Dad had liked having them around because they ate rats and mice that might eat his grain. But if Luke were really Lee Grant, filthy-rich city boy, he wouldn’t know a thing about cats, jumpy or otherwise.

He clamped his mouth shut, closing off his ‘Sure— in a wimpy hiss. He kept his head down, too scared to look the other boy right in the eye.

The boy laughed, cruelly. He looked past Luke, to Ms. Hawkins.

‘What’s wrong with him?” the boy asked, as if Luke weren’t even there. “Can’t talk or something?”

Luke wanted Ms. Hawkins to stick up for him, to say, ‘He’s just new. Don’t you remember what that’s like?” But she wasn’t even paying attention. She frowned at the boy.

“Rolly, take him to room one fifty-six. There’s an empty bed in there. Just put his suitcase down. Don’t waste time unpacking. Then take him back to Mr. Dirk’s history class with you. He’s already behind. Lord knows what his parents were thinking.”

Rolly shrugged and turned around.

“I did not dismiss you!” Ms. Hawkins shrieked.

“May I be dismissed?” Rolly asked mockingly.

“That’s better,” Ms. Hawkins said. “Now, get. Go on with you.

Luke picked up his suitcase and followed, hoping Rolly’s request for dismissal would work for both of them. Either it did, or Ms. Hawkins didn’t care.

In the hallway, Rolly took big steps. He was a good head taller than Luke, and had longer legs. It was all Luke could do to keep up, what with the suitcase banging against his ankles.

Rolly looked back over his shoulder, and started walking faster. He raced up a long stairway By the time Luke reached the top, Rolly was nowhere in sight.

“Boo!”

Rally leaped out from behind the newel post. Luke jumped so high, he lost his balance and teetered on the edge of the stairs. Rally reached out, and Luke thought, See, he’s not so bad. He’s going to catch me. But Rally pushed instead. Luke fell backwards. He might have: umbled down all the stairs, except that Rally’s push was crooked, and Luke landed on the railing. Pain shot hrough his back.

Rally laughed.

“Got you good, didn’t I?” he said.

Then, strangely, he grabbed Luke’s bag and took off own the hall.

Luke was afraid he was stealing it. He galloped after Rally.

Rolly screamed with laughter, maniacally.

This was not what Luke had expected.

Rally dodged around a corner and Luke followed him. Rolly discovered a secret about Luke’s bag that Luke had missed — it was on wheels. So Rally could run at full-speed with the bag rolling behind him. He careened this way and that, the bag zigzagging from side to side. Luke got close enough to tackle it if he wanted, but he hesitated. If the bag had been full of his own clothes, all the hand-me-down jeans and flannel shirts he’d gotten after Matthew and Mark outgrew them, he would have leaped. But the bag held Baron clothes, stiff shirts and shiny pants that were supposed to make him look like Lee Grant, instead of Luke Garner. He couldn’t risk ruining them. He focused on Rally instead. Instinctively, Luke dove over the bag to catch Rally’s legs. It was like playing football. Rally fell to the ground with a crash.

“Just what is the meaning of this?” a man~s voice boomed above them.

Rally was instantly on his feet.

“He attacked me, sir,” Rally said. “I was showing the new boy his room and he attacked me.”

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out He’d learned that from Matthew and Marlc Don’t tattle.

The man looked dismissively from Rally to Luke.

“What is your name, young man?”

Luke froze. He had to stop himself from saying his real name automatically. Then he had a split second of fearing he wouldn’t be able to remember the name he was supposed to use. Was he taking too long? The man’s glare intensified.

“L–L-Lee. Lee Grant,” Luke finally stammered.

“Well, Mr. Grant,” the man snapped. “This is a fine way to begin your academic career at Hendricks. You and Mr. Sturgeon each have two demerits for this disgraceful display. You may report to my room after the final bell to do your time.”

“But, sir, I told you,” Rally protested. “He attacked me.”

“Very well, Mr. Sturgeon. Make that three demerits for each of you.”

“But—” Rally was undeterred.

“Four.”

Rolly was going to complain again. Luke could tell by the way he was standing. But the man turned away and began walking down the hall, as if Rally and Luke were both too unimportant to bother with, and he’d wasted enough time already.

Luke’s head swam with questions. What were demerits? When was final bell? Where was this man’s room? Who was he, anyway? Luke tried to muster up the nerve to call after the man — or to ask Rally, which seemed even more dangerous. But then he was blindsided with a shove that sent him crashing into the wall.

“Fonrol!” Rolly exploded.

Luke slumped against the wall. Hi~ shoulder throbbed. Why did Rolly seem to hate him so much?

“Well, come on, you little exnay,” Rally taunted. “Want to get demerits from Mr. Dirk, too?”

He stepped backwards, tugging on Luke’s suitcase. Then he shoved it through a nearby doorway. Luke looked up and saw 156 etched on a copper plaque on the door. Relief overwhelmed him. Finally something made sense. This was his room. The rest of the day would be horrible — he’d already resigned himself to that. But eventually it would be night, and he’d be sent to bed, and he could come to this room and shut the door. And then he could read the note from Jen’s dad, if he didn’t get a chance to read it before bedtime. Come nightfall, he’d know everything and be safe, alone in his own room.

Imagining the haven that awaited him in only a matter of hours, he got brave enough to peek around the corner.

The room held eight beds.

Seven of them were made up, with rich blue spreads stretched tautly from top to bottom. Only one, a lower bunk, was covered just by sheets.

Luke felt as desolate as that bed looked. He knew it was his. And he knew he wouldn’t get to be alone in this room.

He probably wouldn’t be safe, either, not if any of his seven roommates were anything like Rally.

He edged his hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing the note from Jen’s dad. What if he just pulled it out and read it now, right in front of Rally?

He didn’t dare. The way the last ten minutes had gone, Rally would probably rip the note to shreds before Luke even had it completely out of his pocket.

And Jen’s dad had acted like, it was secret. If Ms. Hawkins wasn’t supposed to see it, there was no way Rally could be trusted.

Rally hit Luke on the shoulder.

“Tag! You’re it!” he hollered, and took off running. Panicked, Luke chased after him.

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