A Good Boy Is Hard to Find (The Naughty List #3)(7)

I shook my head. Moving might be too risky, but how were we going to confirm the cheat without a photo? I shifted on my sneakers, trying to decide the best course of action.

Leona nodded, telling me that she agreed with Kira’s idea. My stomach turned. I had a bad feeling about this. When we spied in close proximity situations, the general rule was to stay put. Not engage in gymnastic endeavors.

Izzie and Leona got down on all fours as Kira stood in front of them making the base. It was just high enough that if I stood on her shoulders, I’d be able to see over the metal locker. There was a slurping noise from over there. Ew!

I put one black-sneakered heel on Leona’s back and then grabbed onto Kira as I hoisted myself up. We were silent—like cheerleading ninjas trained in the sacred art of pyramid building. Slowly and deliberately, I put my feet on Kira’s shoulders, and then I was in the air, completely stable.

I reached my hand out and felt someone slip a camera into my palm. Without looking down—because that could surely make me fall—I lifted it up to eye level. Then I looked through the lens. It took me a minute to find them, but there, across the room near the shower door, was Blaze and his accomplice. Her back was to me, and I had to admit already, she was definitely not as shapely as Trishelle. In fact, from behind, she looked like a linebacker.

Her blond hair was stiff, almost wiglike, and she was wearing an awful minidress that looked like she’d picked up at Walmart. Not that Walmart was unusable, but for minidresses? I’d say so.

I zoomed in as Blaze’s hands massaged at her back and they were in some intricate hug/kiss. Gross. If Blaze kissed like that, I’d think Trishelle would be glad to get rid of him.

Quickly, I started clicking off shots, waiting for the accomplice to turn around. I needed her face. Not technically. This was enough to prove the cheat, but a shot of her face would be nice for future reference. We could keep her on our possible cheater radar. Sort of like I had done with Chloe. Or Mary Rudick.

At the thought of Mary’s name, my jaw clenched and I held the camera a little tighter. My breathing changed, coming out in short gasps, but I needed to stop. I couldn’t keep thinking about her and Aiden.

“Shhh …” I heard and glanced down. Kira was giving me a stern look, and I realized I might have been growling out loud. I swayed on my feet. Whac-a-Mole! Why did I look down?

I thrust my hands out to my sides as if I were walking a tightrope and straightened my posture as Kira held my ankles. It took a second, but finally we got our equilibrium back. Whoa. Total save.

When I adjusted the camera, I froze. Blaze and the girl were no longer kissing. Her back was still to me, but now they were staring at each other. I wondered if I’d just missed something big.

I zoomed in closer, hoping to catch the side of her face. Just then, she shifted in her heels, and I readied my trigger finger.

“Turn,” I murmured. And just then, the figure swung around. I clicked the camera furiously and—

Holy Spumoni! She had a beard!

My entire body flinched, and I felt the camera slip from my hands as I tried to regain my balance. But it was too late. Before I could grab onto the lockers or anything else, I felt myself falling from the sky, heading face first toward the tile floor of the locker room.

Chapter 4

My eyelids fluttered. And just then I was racked with an unbelievable pain in my ankle. Kira was on the floor next to me, and Leona and Izzie were backed against the locker, looking past me with terrified expressions on their faces. I bolted upright, reaching for my foot. “My ankle!”

“Well, well,” someone said. I looked up, my teeth clamped tight as I tried to deal with the pain. Blaze Harmon was there, standing over me.

I was about to act surprised to see him, but then he kicked my camera toward me. “Catch anything good, little spy?” His handsome face was pulled into a snarl, and I felt my pulse exploding. I tried to think of what to say, anything.

“Bet you got some great pictures.” Suddenly, from behind the locker walked the accomplice … only it wasn’t an accomplice. It was Rhett Harding. His red hair was covered with a blond wig, and he was wearing a tight blue dress. Well, at least, I’d gotten the linebacker part right.

“What the hell is going on?” Kira asked, struggling to her feet. I didn’t dare move. The pain was starting to thicken, like a swelling heat. A vice around my ankle.

“Looks like we caught a couple of Kittens acting all Nancy Drew. In fact, SOS, I think the right phrasing is, ‘We just nailed your asses to the wall.’”

“Ew,” Kira said. “Rhett, you’ve never been anywhere near my ass, and you certainly haven’t nailed it to anything. And you never will wearing a dress. Seriously?”

His face fell. It was common knowledge that Rhett had been crushing on Kira for the better part of two years.

“Don’t listen to that little bitch,” Blaze said, his eyes living up to his name. “They’ve been spying on us! They’ve been tracking us like a bunch of private dicks.”

“I think dick is the operative word,” Leona said, stepping forward.

Blaze shook his head at her. I’d never known him to be so nasty, but we’d just been totally busted. My stomach was twisting with the awful possibilities.

“And why …” Leona continued, walking closer before squatting down to inspect my ankle. “Why are you dressed as a woman, Rhett? A little after-school activity?”