The hallway was noisy, crowded with kids, as it always was between classes.
“Not a thing,” I said with disgust. “If anyone thought Simon took me, they’d break down his damn door. But since it’s a dog, well, ‘Go and talk to him.’” I said this in a deep voice, like I was imitating the police. “That’s their response for you,” I said, back to my normal voice. “Like he’s not totally suspect! Daisy’s there. I know it. I feel it.”
Ben seemed to agree.
We were nearing “Mr. Fitch’s” classroom and my stomach did a flip. I think I slowed down, and Ben knew why.
“Want me to go ahead, see if he’s in there?”
“No,” I said. “We’ll go together.”
We walked side by side, every step a bit more tentative than the last as we neared the creeper’s classroom. At the open door, I tried to keep my eyes forward, but I couldn’t resist looking. I turned my head just a bit, just so, and there he was, standing at the front of his classroom wearing his dumb polo shirt and dumb khaki pants. Same old Simon. The leather bag my mom bought him was on the floor next to his desk. It was so wrong that he still used it. I mean, this guy poisoned me and stole our dog! How could they let him teach children? What a whackjob!
I tried to turn my head before he saw me, but Simon caught my eye and there it was—the look I had tried so hard to record. Even from a distance I could feel its heat. He wanted to kill me, no antique gun this time. He would shoot me dead if he could, that’s what his eyes were saying.
Simon made a thin-lipped smile, but the darkness didn’t leave him. He put his hand up, fingers waving at me, and the smile on his face grew wider until his teeth were showing. To me he looked ghoulish, like the worst Halloween mask ever. I wanted to scream and run away, but instead I froze in place. I couldn’t move a muscle. Simon continued to stare at me, until Ben finally dragged me away, and that broke the spell.
“What a freak,” he said as we walked away, but this time at a faster pace.
“A freak with my dog,” I snarled. “If I could get at his briefcase, I’d take his keys and go get her myself.”
Ben stopped suddenly and grabbed hold of my arm. “What did you say?”
“I said I’d go get the keys to his house, which he always keeps in that bag, and go get my dog myself.”
It was all talk, of course. Maggie’s big show! But I was feeling extra combative at that moment.
Ben locked eyes with mine, no blinking, deadly serious.
“You mean it?”
I gave him a funny, sideways glance, because I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. I kind of laughed it off.
“It’s not like I can go in there and just take his keys,” I said, rolling my eyes at him.
Ben looked around like he was scanning the hallway for something. Then, he locked on his target.
“You got one chance,” he said to me, showing me a single finger. “One. Take it.”
“What?”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, but off he went, like a sprinter, backtracking toward Simon’s classroom. I reached out to stop him, but he was moving too fast. I told myself he wasn’t doing what I thought he was doing. But sure enough, he had Justin D’Abbraccio, my former pal, the boy who started all the whatnot with Laura Abel, in his sights, and he was heading for him with a determined look on his face.
“Hey, Justin!”
Justin whirled to see Ben storming at him, hands balled into fists at his sides. When he got to within spitting distance, Ben reached out a long, skinny arm and took hold of the front of Justin’s T-shirt.
“What the—?”
Justin looked like someone had dumped cold water on his head—it was that kind of shock and surprise.
“You really should learn to be nicer to people, you know that?”
Even when he was being aggressive, Ben sounded polite. He shoved Justin with some force, and that wasn’t polite at all. Laura Abel was nearby and she and a bunch of her cronies moved in close to watch.
“Hey, back off, Odell,” Justin said, sounding a little unsure. “What’s