From the Desk of Zoe Washington(51)

He stopped walking and glanced back at me. “Hey.”

“I’ve been dying to talk to you. How are you?” I nodded toward his shirt. “Did your mom make you quit the team?”

He glanced down at his shirt and shook his head. “No. I mean, the season hasn’t started yet. Hopefully Mom will forget by the time it does.”

“That’s lucky.”

“Well, I was supposed to go to a few Celtics games, but now they’re giving the tickets to my uncle and cousins,” Trevor said.

“I’m sorry. It’s totally my fault.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to help you, and it was worth it.”

“So you don’t hate me for getting you in trouble?” I asked.

“No! I mean, it sucked getting caught, but I’m glad I could help you learn the truth about Marcus. Going to Harvard was pretty fun, too. Definitely the most exciting thing I got to do all summer.”

I had to smile. “Same here.”

“Did you get your parents to call Professor Thomas?” he asked.

I frowned. “No. And I still don’t have my phone or computer back.”

“That stinks. But maybe your parents will change their minds,” Trevor said.

“Doesn’t seem like that’s gonna happen. Mom’s still so mad.”

We got to our bus stop, and a couple minutes later, the bus pulled up and we got on.

“Zooo-eeeee!” Maya grinned and waved her arms at me from our usual spot in the middle of the bus. Her thick brown hair was in a French braid, and she’d gotten new red glasses.

“Maya! Hi!” I sat down next to her, and she slammed me with a hug. I smiled as I hugged her back, my first real smile since I’d been grounded.

“I missed you,” she said.

“Missed you too,” I said.

She elbowed me. “Why didn’t you answer any of my texts this weekend?”

“I couldn’t. Mom took my phone away.”

“What? Why?”

“Long story,” I said. “I have so much to tell you.”

“I have sooo much to tell you, too.”

I glanced up to see where Trevor had gone. He was sitting in an empty seat a couple of rows ahead of us. “Trevor,” I called out, and he turned around. I pointed to the empty seat across from mine, and then moved my backpack over to it. “Do you care?” I asked Maya.

“Fine with me,” Maya said.

I waved Trevor over and let him into the seat next to me.

“I was gonna play my Mario game but . . . ,” Trevor began.

“No phone?” I finished, and Trevor nodded. “That’s okay. You can hang out with us.”

He smiled.

The next bus stop would’ve been where Jasmine and her twin brother got on. But they were all the way in Maryland.

“Have you heard from Jasmine?” I asked Maya.

“Yeah, she sent us a text last night,” Maya said. “She says she misses us and she starts at her new school today.”

School wouldn’t be the same without Jasmine, but I was so happy to be here with Maya and Trevor. I couldn’t wait to tell Maya all about Marcus and the Harvard adventure, but that could wait until lunch, when we had more time.

“Oh! I have something for you,” Maya said, reaching into her backpack. She pulled out a package of assorted Ghirardelli chocolate and passed it to me. “I got it from their shop in San Francisco.”

“Thanks!” I said, opening the package. It was never too early for chocolate. But before I took one for myself, I held the package out to Trevor, who had been watching me carefully. “I know you want some.”

His eyes lit up as he took a few pieces for himself, immediately opening one and stuffing it into his mouth.

I ate a piece of chocolate too. It was nice to be surrounded by my friends again.

But then I thought about Marcus, sitting alone in his prison cell, and my stomach churned.

“You know what, you can have these,” I told Trevor and handed him the rest of the chocolates.





Chapter Thirty-Four


“Hey, Zo,” Dad said as he poked his head into my room a couple of days later, while I was doing French homework.

The clock on my wall said it was only four o’clock. “What are you doing home so early?” I asked.

“We have something to talk to you about.”

“We?”

Dad opened the door wider and he, Mom, and Grandma walked into my room. What was Mom doing home early, too? They all stood in a line in front of me, and I braced myself for yelling, or more punishment, or something else equally terrible. Then I noticed Mom seemed upset—her eyes were slightly red, and her mascara was smeared. Had she been crying?

“What’s going on?” I asked, scanning their faces.

Mom cleared her throat before saying, “I spoke to Professor Thomas today.”

I sat up straighter. “You did? What? How?”

She nodded. “Your grandma convinced me that it was the right thing to do.”

I looked over at Grandma, who smiled at me.

“Oh my goodness,” I said, grinning back at her, my head spinning. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Thank you!”