Don't Get Caught(47)

“You’ll do great,” Ellie says. “I know you will. I can help you study if you want.”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks.”

“What about calling him a dick? Did Stranko hit you with verbal assault?”

“Another week of work crew,” Wheeler says, making a whoop-de-doo motion with his finger. “Okay, I’d better go. Mom’s waiting for me.”

He gets a few steps away before turning back.

“What sucks is I did study. It’s not like I’m dumb. I have good DNA. My brothers prove that. I guess it’s going to take people a while to catch up with this new version of me.”

Now I feel even guiltier for having doubted him. Am I really any better than Fleiger and Stranko?

“See?” Malone says. “There was nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not so sure,” I say.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know Wheeler. Stranko had better watch his back.”

? ? ?

The rest of exam week goes quietly, and on his retake, Wheeler earns a C-, giving him his first no-F report card since seventh grade. The achievement is celebrated in the Wheeler household like he’s just cured cancer. In my house, the Bs and Cs filling my report card are met with a resigned “We know you can do better, Max” from my parents.

The first few weeks of the new semester are quiet—so quiet, in fact, that I’m lulled into a sense of normalcy. Classes are tolerable, and we even get a snowstorm on a Friday, giving us a three-day weekend. Life overall is good, so of course, something has to come along and screw it up.

It’s a freezing Wednesday during third period, and I’m zoned out at my desk in Navarro’s class watching Dances with Wolves, the social studies department’s idea of a unit on Native Americans, when my phone vibrates in my pocket.

Ellie: Get up here now.

By here, Ellie means the main office where she’s still an aide. Claiming it’s an emergency, I ask Mr. Allen if I can use the bathroom. I then hurry through the hall, taking the steps two at a time as I head for the office. As I pass the girls’ bathroom just off the lobby, the door opens and Ellie pulls me inside.

“What are you doing?”

“Relax, no one’s in here,” she says. “Something big is going on. A couple men in suits looking all official came in earlier. They said something to Mrs. Engen, and she turned so pale I thought she might pass out. All the aides were told to go to the library for the rest of the period. I doubled back and came in here. Stranko came out and offered to shake hands, but they wouldn’t take it. They’re all up in his office right now.”

“Who are they?”

“I’m not sure, but they weren’t very friendly looking.”

“I don’t get it,” I say. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I’ll show you.”

Ellie checks the hall to make sure it’s safe, and we step out, giving us a clear shot of the lobby.

“That,” Ellie says, and I look to where she’s pointing.

Oh.

Taped above the office door on the glass frame is one of our replica Chaos Club cards.

“Wheeler,” I say.

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“This can’t be good.”

“Where are you going?” Ellie asks.

“To find out what Wheeler did.”

Two minutes later, I find Wheeler in the foreign language lab. He’s at a computer with headphones on, repeating into a microphone what the animated Spanish-speaking mouse on the screen is saying. Wheeler’s so focused it takes a second to get his attention.

“What did you do?” I say once he joins me in the hall.

“Huh?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Men in suits came into Stranko’s office. Ellie saw the Chaos Club card you put up.”

An evil, satisfied smile slowly creeps across Wheeler’s face.

“Oh man, it worked.”

“What the hell did you do, Dave?”

“Nothing big. I just sent a couple emails from Stranko’s account.”

“Didn’t he deactivate it by now?”

“Yeah, but I can still use his email by logging into his office computer. This building is basically deserted if you get here early enough.”

I’m afraid to ask, but I have to.

“What were the messages?”

“Just some private thoughts Stranko shared with the White House. It turns out he really doesn’t agree with a lot of the president’s policies. Apparently, he’s angry enough to make some very specific threats.”

“So those guys—”

“Are probably Secret Service,” Wheeler finishes, and once he starts laughing, he can’t stop. “Did they take him out in handcuffs? Please tell me they did.”

“It’s not funny, Wheeler. He could end up in jail. I’m no fan of Stranko’s, but he’s never going to stop looking for us now. Don’t you get that? You didn’t take care of anything. You’ve just pissed him off for eternity.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“You’ve committed a federal crime, Wheeler.”

“Oh, just stop. Nothing’s going to happen.”