Lara wasn’t sure what she had expected. But it wasn’t that. “Okay,” she said. “No problem.”
“It’s not that I want to keep secrets from her,” Aviva said. “I just do not want her to worry about me. It is hard for her, being here. I do not want to add to her troubles.”
It was difficult for Lara to imagine ever-calm Aunt Miriam being troubled by anything, least of all something related to perfect Aviva. Well, almost-perfect Aviva. But she nodded.
“Your secret is completely safe with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: VERMIN MOST FOUL
It took a lot of time, list-making, and looking up videos on YouTube. But finally, Caroline managed to come up with a perfect prank. Even though it involved blood—well, red paint—it was too perfect not to try.
Micah liked it, too. When Caroline had texted him her plans he’d replied with three thumbs-up emojis, plus a few laugh-crying faces for good measure. He said he just might try it on his brothers soon. Caroline smiled, then got to work making a prop for the prank. That was key if it was going to work at all.
Caroline had done an outstanding job on the art, if she did say so herself. Now they just had to pull the whole thing off without getting caught, murdered, or expelled.
We’ve done it once, Caroline reminded herself. And no one had suspected a single thing, with the possible exception of Ms. Williamson. And Lara. But Lara, while highly annoying, didn’t actually know anything.
The drive to school that morning probably was not any longer than usual. But it definitely felt longer. As they ran into a red light for approximately the billionth time that morning, Caroline bounced up and down in her seat. She didn’t have time for this—she needed to show Micah the results of last night’s art project. If you could call it that.
Lara shot Caroline a look, which Caroline proceeded to ignore. There was no way Lara could guess what she had planned, surely.
Finally, Ima pulled the station wagon up by the curb. “Have a good day, girls,” she said, glancing at her watch. “And remember to tell all your teachers that you’ll be gone for Rosh Hashanah tomorrow.”
“Yes, Aunt Ezter,” Aviva said, while Lara rolled her eyes.
Caroline ignored them both and went straight for the spot in the sixth-grade hallway where she and Micah met each morning. She’d started to think of it as their spot.
Sure enough, he was waiting for her. “Do you have it?”
She glanced around to make sure they weren’t being watched—you could never be too careful when plotting against Marissa. After determining that Marissa did not have spies lurking in the nearest trash can, Caroline pulled open her backpack and showed Micah the project that had consumed her entire evening.
His eyes widened when he took it all in. “It looks so real. How’d you do it?”
Caroline flipped open her tablet to answer. “Kugel has toys that look pretty realistic. But it took a lot of experimenting. I made three of them before I got one that looked right.”
“You nailed it,” Micah told her. “Caroline Finkel, you are an artist of exceptional ability.”
Perhaps Caroline should not have been pleased, but she flushed at the compliment.
“We should be able to complete the plan during art,” Caroline said.
“Yep. I think you should have the honors this time.”
Sweat practically erupted from Caroline’s palms, and she frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, Caro! It was your idea, wasn’t it? You should be the one to have all the fun.”
Micah might be Caroline’s best—only?—friend, but she questioned his ideas about what made for a fun thing to do.
“Okay,” she typed.
Maybe pranking Marissa wasn’t going to be fun, exactly. But she was going to do it. Caro did not back down from a good challenge.
* * *
The fact that Caroline made it until art class without exploding qualified as a minor miracle. Still, her legs were definitely more jittery than usual as she worked on her sculpture. (Or, well, pretended to work.)
In some ways, this plan was actually easier to pull off than the bloody-pen prank. Thanks to Caroline’s careful planning, she wouldn’t actually have to get close to Marissa.
She would, however, need to get into Marissa’s backpack.
“When are you going to do it?” Micah whispered to her as soon as he slid into the seat next to hers.
After looking around to make sure that no one had overheard, Caroline typed a single word into her tablet: “Soon.”
Waiting would just make her lose any shred of bravery she possessed, while causing the bad sort of nerves to skyrocket. Caroline felt quite sure of that. So she had to make her move soon.
Luckily, everyone kept their backpacks at the front of the classroom during class. Ms. Williamson said she didn’t want anyone ending up with purple paint splattered on their bags. Caroline personally wouldn’t mind a little purple paint to decorate her bag, but today her entire plan depended on this arrangement. Even better: There was a movable cork wall between the bag area and the rest of the classroom.
Obviously, the purpose of the wall was not to hide students who were in the process of doing a not-so-nice thing to a classmate. Caroline knew that, and it made her insides squirm. The artist in the back of her brain kept painting tight spirals in puke green—a fair expression of her mood, to be sure.
Don’t be a baby, she scolded herself. It wasn’t like Marissa was going to actually get hurt or anything.
Soon after class began, Ms. Williamson disappeared to the far side of the room to help a boy use the wire cutters. It was the perfect opportunity.
Micah knew it too. He smiled at her.
Caroline took in a deep breath and scurried to the bag area.
It wasn’t hard at all to find Marissa’s backpack. Her name
