See Me After Class(14)

“I played with a remote-control car once,” I offer.

Keiko eyes meet mine. “Remember, we’re on a trial basis.”

Laughing softly, I hold up her sandwich. “Turkey melt?”’

She eyes it and then takes it from me. “Don’t mind if I do.”





“Explosive bubbles?” Stella asks. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Although a great idea,” I say, treading carefully, you know, since I’m friends on a trial basis. “I think we need to consider what Arlo will be doing in the classroom. He’s won’t necessarily be playing around with bubbles while teaching AP English. The man couldn’t even stand a little music on the first day. I doubt he’s going to be dabbling in bubbles anytime soon.”

“Hmm, that does create a predicament.” Keiko takes a bite of her sandwich and thinks on it for a few seconds before perking up. “We could fashion an automatic bubble blower in the vents and blow explosive bubbles into his room.”

“Can’t we just buy those popper things, place them under the legs of his chair, and when he sits, they pop and scare the crap out of him?” Stella asks.

Keiko pauses and hums to herself. Her eyes flit back and forth as if she’s solving an equation in her head. When she’s done, she looks at Stella. “That could work. Less risk, still great reward. I shall note it.”





“There has to be a way,” Keiko says in distress.

I glance at the clock and realize we have five minutes left until lunch is over.

“I think what we have so far is great, Keeks.” Her head perks up at me using her nickname. I wait for her to mention it, but she doesn’t; instead, she fixates on the one thing she’s been fixating on for the last five minutes.

“We can’t possibly accumulate the proper conclusion to each prank without inserting a digital monitor inside on his person to audit pulse rate, blood pressure, dilation of the eyes—”

“Keeks, deep breath,” Stella says. “For this experiment, we’re going to have to fall back to classic observation.”

“Such courses of action are for peons.” She slams her fist on the table.

“Yes, but unless you have an invisibility cloak and invisible monitors, we’re going to have to go with observation.”

She sighs. “I’ll research the probability of the invisibility cloak.”





“Just a few more, hurry up,” I say to Stella, who is taking her damn time turning desks around.

When Keiko said we begin small, she meant it. She thought starting the plan too close to the argument would be obvious, so we decided to initiate phase one of a thirty-phase program—yeah, I’m not doing all thirty phases—on Friday, so we could gauge his reaction on a day that would bring him joy, then lead into a weekend.

Keiko wants to consider all factors when we move forward. It’s why I had to do some recon work and find his syllabus for the year, so we can see if any of his reactions are environmental. Honestly, the whole concept of conducting experiments on Arlo Turner had me giggling all week. Especially once Keiko showed me the spreadsheet she came up with to keep track of Arlo’s attitude. She complained once again about not being able to gauge his vitals and told me she wasn’t giving up on the invisibility cloak just yet. She’s bound and determined to gather the most conclusive evidence.

“Why do the desks have to be at a precise seventeen-degree angle?” Stella asks.

“I don’t know. Keiko said something about just enough of a turn to be noticed, but not enough to be obvious.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Don’t question her, just listen to the mastermind.”

“I still don’t understand why she’s not here.”

I shrug. “Something to do with not wanting to be caught in the act, even though this was her plan.”

“Behind-the-scenes villain. I feel her on that,” Stella says, measuring out seventeen degrees. I have to admit, the slight turn isn’t obvious. Just annoying. All the desks are turned just enough to face away from where Turner stands at the front of the class.

“Two more and then we’re—”

“What are you doing?”

Stella and I both snap to attention and turn toward the door, where Gunner Klein and Brock “Romeo” Romero stand, arms crossed over their bulky, well-built chests.

Crap.

Just from what Stella has told me, the two physical education teachers are good friends with Arlo. Finding us changing his desks doesn’t bode well for the plan.

Keiko is going to be so disappointed.

“Uh . . . sweeping,” I say, showing absolutely zero confidence in my answer.

“Sweeping?” Gunner asks, stepping into the room, Romeo close behind him. “You’re sweeping a carpeted floor?”

“Yes?”

“Without a broom?” He quirks a brow.

“Sweeping with my feet.” I start moving my foot back and forth, gathering no dirt whatsoever. Eyes on Stella, I encourage her to join me, but she betrays me and instead sits on a desk and lets out a long sigh. Great help she is. “You know, there’s nothing like a faux vacuum line to give the illusion of a clean classroom.”