“Thursday night we sneak into the school.”
I gaped at her.
“I know. It’s a tall order, but it’s the only way to be certain.”
“All this work. We’re guaranteeing her a victory with everything we’ve done.”
“No, we’re putting her in a place to win. There are no guarantees of victory. We’ve laid the groundwork for her win to be possible, hell, probable even.”
I let my snacks fall to the ground with a thud. “I can’t believe this. We’ve put in weeks and weeks of work only to change the final result if we have to?” I was incredulous. Beyond incredulous. I was angry.
“Ember, the Red Court is about subtlety. I know it’s hard to understand now, but this is the way of things.”
“Like that takedown in the hall. That was real subtle.” I snapped my jaw shut hard enough to grind my teeth.
“You saw the sign in the hallway. He owed us and didn’t feel like paying up when the time came. Typical popular-guy attitude. No one is out of our reach, and the cleanup crew loves their work.”
“What, we have janitors in the Red Court?”
Her lips thinned into a straight line, a sure sign Haley’s patience was running low. “We have a team that is dedicated to making the people who don’t play nice pay for it. You have to really love that kind of work to do it all the time. It wasn’t like it was me, so what’s your issue?”
Not even this new bit of Red Court truth could deter my disgust. The broken expression of the girl with the necklace played on repeat in my mind. “It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t you. You’re part of the group that committed the act. The perfect example of guilty by association.”
“Look in the mirror, little girl. Everything you just said applies to you, too. You joined knowing full well what you were getting into.”
I huffed. There was no retort I could give her without my real reasons for joining the Red Court spilling out, too. My emotions were making me sloppy.
Get it together. Forget about the girl. Forget about Chase’s accusing eyes when he looked at the Red Court’s work.
“If you’d like to step down from your soapbox, we can get back to the plan. I think we did enough legwork that when the student council tallies the votes Thursday afternoon, we’ll be ok. The results will be delivered Friday morning to the administrative offices. All we need to do is get into the student council room and check their files. Even if we do need to change the tally, we can have Max back us up with a phony story about finding extra ballots.”
I opened my mouth to object, but she held a hand up to stop me.
“This is only a contingency. We don’t take chances, so we plan for this in case we need it. But it’s like I said, we should be fine.”
“It’s the ‘should’ that worries me.”
“I know. Let’s go over how we’re getting into the school Thursday night.”
“Breaking and entering?” I snapped.
Haley rolled her eyes. “Very funny. There’s a service door by the furnace room next to the gym. It’s easy to jimmy the lock and there’s no alarm there.”
“Sounds convenient.”
“Quite convenient. We may have had it disabled some time ago. And there may have been some encouragement to the principal to overlook this flaw in the system. We also have the password to access the computers in the StuCo room.”
I felt ill. All of this was too easy. I couldn’t imagine what they had on Principal McGovern. He was Heller’s de facto mascot with his shock of white Einstein hair and adorable bow ties. For the first time, I considered my ultimate goal and felt the magnitude of it. How was I going to take them all down? What could I do that would dismantle the years of work it took building the Red Court to what it was? What would it cost? The last question left a tremor of unease quaking through my core because the answer was the one I dreaded most: everything.
“What do you think?” Haley asked after reviewing the details. “You ready?”
My nerve was close to failing me. I’d never wanted to do something less. But giving up wasn’t an option. Not when I was so close.
“Not remotely, but this is most likely as good as it will get.”
* * *
The day of our B and E arrived sooner than I would have liked. Every time I paused for a minute, my stomach would tighten into knots and my palms itched so badly that I resorted to using cortisone cream. To distract myself, I put extra effort into my usual routine. I was ahead in every class, had made it to the track for extra practice, and prepared for my next debate meet.
At 10:00 p.m. on the dot, I parked my car a few blocks from the school and pulled on a dark gray hoodie. If I was taller, I might have even intimidated an odd passerby on the street. As it was, no one seemed to look twice at me as I stepped quietly through the evening streets.
Once out into the open parking lot, I yanked my hood over my head to shield myself from the blustery October night. I spotted Haley near the door to the utility room on the side of the building and ran the last hundred yards to her.
“Here. Put this on.” She handed me a dark baseball cap by way of greeting. “And keep your hood up.”
My hand trembled as I reached for the hat. We were breaking into the school, committing an actual crime. Playing cupid or queen-maker wouldn’t land us in the kind of trouble that follows you for the rest of your life. This wasn’t riding the coattails of the chess club on Saturday mornings to gain access to the school. If tonight went sideways, we could end up being arrested.
Haley slipped her hat on and tugged the bill low over her eyes. She noticed my nerves and quirked a smile. “I’ve done this before. It’s all going to be fine. We get in, we get out. Now, let’s go.” She pulled the handle to the service door up and out in a practiced yank.
To my shock, the door popped open without any sirens blaring. We ducked in quickly and pulled the door shut behind us.
“We have thirty minutes before security gets here for their rounds,” Haley said.
“And the cameras?” I eyed the black half orb protruding from the ceiling.
“Keep your face down,” Haley whispered. “The security system is really old, and the recording is erased every morning unless there was something to report, which of course there won’t be. But don’t look directly into the camera.”
We made our way silently through the school. It was eerie to be there without the hum of thousands of students surrounding us. I attempted some deep breathing to bring my heart rate down from critical levels.
The student council room was an old teachers’ lounge that had been converted a few years ago when the new wing of the school opened and the teachers were given a bigger space. It had a mini kitchen and couches that had seen better days but was large enough to afford the StuCo kids a few round tables. Even in the blue emergency lights, it felt warm and lived-in. Instantly, I was more at ease.