“I don’t spy on people!”
I investigate them, Lara added silently. Somehow she thought the distinction would be lost on her brother.
“I’m telling everyone!” Benny declared.
That wouldn’t do. Lara bit her lip and frantically searched around the messy room, as though it could give her an answer to her current predicament. Her eyes fell on Benny’s Rube Goldberg machine. He must have worked on it quite a bit since she’d last visited. Yet as far as she knew, Ima’s heirloom was still missing. And that gave Lara an idea.
“If you say that I’m a spy, then I’m going to tell everyone what you’ve done with Ima’s brooch,” Lara said. She straightened her back as she talked. Even arched her eyebrow in what she hoped was a menacing expression.
She’d expected her brother to appear terrified. Instead, he just looked confused. “Huh?”
“Ima’s brooch!” When that failed to provoke an appropriate response, Lara tried to explain further. “You’re using Ima’s brooch in your machine. You really don’t know that?”
Benny’s face twisted in concentration. “Oh! So that’s what the silver-and-green thing is. I was wondering about that.”
Sometimes Lara found her brother’s cluelessness charming. Now it was just unbelievable. Still, she could definitely use it to her advantage.
“That silver-and-green thing is Ima’s family heirloom from Turkey. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to know that you’ve decided it’s best used for zipping a zipper. That is what your weird machine is supposed to do, isn’t it?”
He paled. “Please, please don’t do that! I’ll return it. I swear.”
Lara smiled widely. “I won’t tell anyone a thing. So long as you don’t tell anyone that I was . . . visiting . . . in here.”
Benny bounced over to his part of the room. “Okay, okay. I won’t tell!”
“We have a deal, then. Excellent.”
As Lara left Benny behind, it occurred to her that both of her brothers could be in very big trouble very soon. Well, no matter. That wasn’t any of her concern.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: AN ACT OF DARING
Caroline had thought the Bloody Pen Incident would be the end of this whole nasty Marissa business. It seemed fair enough. Marissa had ruined her sculpture, so she ruined Marissa’s drawing. Now that their business was done, Caroline preferred to pretend that Marissa simply did not exist.
Micah had other plans.
She found out all about it during math class. As usual, she sat next to Micah. And as usual, he had a way to entertain them both when things got boring.
They had a system. Whenever Micah had something to say, he’d scribble a note on the edge of his notebook. Caroline had gotten used to his messy handwriting. To respond, she’d type something in her tablet but would not actually press the “speak” button.
It occurred to Caroline that perhaps she should not be using her tablet in such a way during school hours. But she figured that passing notes to a friend was just something normal kids did in middle school. Maybe she had something of an advantage, but that was no reason not to use it.
Caroline rubbed her eyes and stared at her problem set when a cough sounded next to her. She peered over at Micah’s notebook. Sure enough, there was a message waiting for her.
We should do something.
She tapped her foot as she tried to come up with a smart response. Sometimes, Micah’s suggestions were entirely too vague for her liking.
Like what? she typed finally.
Micah wrote swiftly and confidently:
Another prank on Marissa. The last one was so much fun.
Speaking for herself, Caroline was not sure she could characterize the experience of pranking Marissa as fun. Terrifying, yes. Guilt-inducing, certainly. It was even a little bit exhilarating, once she got past everything else. But fun?
I don’t know about that, Caroline typed. I think Ms. Williamson knows it was you last time.
It was true. For the past few art classes, Caroline could practically feel the weight of their teacher’s eyeballs on them as they worked at their table.
Of course, Micah had a response for that.
So it won’t be in art class this time.
Caroline started to type something. She stopped. Deleted her words. Started typing something else—“but won’t Marissa start realizing what we’re doing?”—when the tap-tapping of shoes against hard floor made her jump a bit.
It was Ms. Garcia, the math teacher. Caroline gulped. Was she about to get into trouble?
“Micah, that doesn’t look very much like your problem set,” the teacher said.
Part of Caroline had expected Micah to deny it, but he didn’t.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll . . . I’ll get to work on it.”
“Please do,” Ms. Garcia said. She wasn’t mean, exactly, but even Micah knew he had to listen.
Caroline glanced over at the teacher, waiting to receive a lecture of her own. But it never came.
She frowned. Did Ms. Garcia just not see that she was using her tablet to pass notes to Micah? It was odd—who did she think Micah was talking to, anyway?
Not getting in trouble ought to be a good thing, but Caroline couldn’t help but wonder. A rather unpleasant thought gnawed at her. Did Ms. Garcia not realize that she, Caroline Finkel, the girl who talked with a tablet, could break the rules with her friend?
Did it just not occur to her that someone like Caroline could be just as troublesome as anyone else?
It was the same thing with Ms. Williamson, Caroline realized. She obviously realized that Micah had something or other to do with the not-blood splattered all over Marissa’s beautiful flowers. But did she realize that Caroline had been his partner in crime?
Lara had suspected something. Caroline knew that much. But even her sister, who ought to know Caroline better than anyone, hadn’t gotten close to the truth.
These thoughts troubled Caroline until math class came to a welcome end.
There wasn’t much of a chance to talk with Micah as they walked to lunch together. Caroline vowed that one day she would master the trick of using her tablet while she walked, but that day
