I'll Stop the World (66)

She frowned a little thinking about the campaign, and how she was no longer allowed to see Justin because of it. The truth was, Diane and her dad were so busy lately, they probably wouldn’t even notice if she followed their stupid rule. They just trusted that she’d obey them because she always did. She couldn’t remember ever disregarding a rule they’d given her, much less a punishment.

But there was a first time for everything.

Finally, Rose heard what she’d been waiting for: the low rumble of the janitorial cart being pushed past the library entrance. Rose shoved her textbook and half-finished homework back into her bag, then hurried out into the hallway, giving Mrs. Fein a little wave as she passed her desk.

Just as she’d hoped, Mr. McMillain was in the midst of pushing the cart back into the supply closet, his keys jangling from his hip. She stood behind him, waiting for him to finish locking the door. His shoulders rose and fell in a sigh, before he spoke without turning around.

“Back again, Walters?”

He’d started calling her Walters after the female 20/20 cohost, thanks to her incessant questioning during the first day she’d stayed after school. That time, she’d pretended that she’d left something behind in a locked classroom. The second, she’d claimed to be waiting for a ride after missing her bus. But he’d quickly seen through both ruses, and she eventually admitted that things were awkward at home and she was avoiding her family.

She was surprised to find that it felt like the truth.

“Just finishing up my homework.” Rose tipped a shoulder to show him her backpack, as if the presence of her schoolbooks proved the validity of her claim. “I was on my way out.”

“Sure you were,” Mr. McMillain said, shaking his head slightly as he began to walk toward the exit. He was young, probably in his midtwenties, with dark-brown skin, close-cropped black hair, and a narrow whisper of a mustache over his top lip.

Rose hurried to keep up with his long strides. He was tall and thin, with a slightly stretched appearance, as if his skin had come a size too small for his skeleton but was trying its best to fit anyway.

“So halfway to the weekend, yay!” Rose waved her arms in a weak display of enthusiasm, cringing inwardly at her own awkwardness.

Mr. McMillain gave her an odd look but didn’t break his stride. “Yup. Love those Wednesdays.”

Rose cleared her throat. “So do you have any big plans this weekend?”

He stopped walking and frowned, narrowing his eyes. “What’s your deal, Walters?”

“What?”

“Why do you care what I’m doing this weekend?”

“Just making conversation,” she said, her cheeks growing hot. It’s not like she could just come out and ask him if he planned on burning down the school.

“Why? Why do you keep showing up here?”

“I told you, things at home are—”

“Naw, I don’t buy that.” He took a wary step away from her. “You’ve got friends, Walters; I’ve seen y’all during the day. If you don’t want to go home, you could hang out with one of them. Yet here you are, again. What do you want?”

“I, uh,” Rose stammered, searching for something she could say that would defuse his suspicion while leaving the door open for her to continue to ask questions. It turned out that trying to casually suss out the weekend routine and possible arsonous tendencies of a total stranger—and an adult, at that—was no easy task. Yet if she was going to figure out if McMillain had anything to do with the school fire, that was exactly what she had to do. “Do you know Mrs. Hanley?” she blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Her grandkids go to school here. Her garage burned down over the summer?”

“Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that.”

“It happened in July. July 11.”

“Okay . . .” McMillain gave her an odd look, like she’d suddenly started reciting Shakespeare out of the blue.

“Do you, um, remember what you were doing on July 11?”

Something flickered behind McMillain’s eyes, his expression going from bemused to guarded. “Look,” he said, keeping his head down as he began to walk toward the exit again, moving faster now. “I don’t know what your deal is, but I don’t need your kind of trouble. I’ve got enough of my own. Go find someone else to interrogate.”

“Wait!” Rose hurried to keep up with him, following him out of the school into the bright afternoon sunlight. She could feel her window closing with every step. Asking about Mrs. Hanley’s fire had been a mistake. She needed to switch tactics, or she was going to lose him entirely. “I’m sorry,” she said, her mind racing. “I’m just—uh—I’m just trying to help out my mom.”

He paused, frowning. “You’re what?”

“My stepmom, actually, Diane Lewis-Yin? She’s running for mayor.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her signs.” McMillain still looked suspicious, but at least he wasn’t running away from her anymore. “She’s the Black lady, right?”

“Yes! And, um, well, there’s this debate she’s participating in this weekend, and we’re trying to get more supporters to attend so—”

“How do you know I’m a supporter?”