“One thing,” Rae continued. “We don’t want to spook them, so Taylor and I won’t be friendly with you in school until afterward, okay?”
“They’re not stupid,” Taylor said. “If they see the three of us consorting, they’ll back out or do something to ruin the sting.”
“Just write down when and where and slip a note into my locker. It’s number 103. You pass it every morning on the way to your classroom, okay?” Rae said.
“We’ll call you the night you get the note into my locker and give you whatever instructions Rae’s father wants you to have.”
“What if he doesn’t want to do it?”
“Are you kidding? My father is a very strict disciplinarian. He thinks kids are way too free today and would jump at a chance to make an arrest like this,” Rae replied, “especially if there are any drugs involved, and especially with someone like Ashley, who thinks he’s above the law. My father doesn’t like his father either. He says he’s helped too many criminals escape justice.”
They both got up.
“Remember, locker 103.”
I nodded and they walked away. At the door, Taylor turned and gave me a small wave good-bye.
Life in the perfect suburbs was turning out to be just as nasty as life in my neighborhood, I thought. One good thing that would come out of this would be my aunt Mae Louise would have to stop riding on her high horse and bragging about how much nicer and safer it was living here. That alone seemed reason enough to go through with it.
Nothing happened that afternoon, and no one approached me during lunch the next day. I was beginning to think it was all just a lot of talk, just as Rae thought it might be, something the boys bantered about to show how brave and sophisticated they were. And then, as I was walking back to class, two boys I had seen with Ashley came up beside me. One was about my height, with curly black hair and a pug nose. He was wide in the shoulders and wore a wrestling team jacket. The other boy was taller, with long straw-colored hair and a sharp, pointed nose over thin lips and a cleft chin.
“Hi,” he said. “We heard how you got into trouble.”
“Good for you,” I said, and kept walking.
“We don’t think it’s right that all the other girls in the school are such snobs and don’t have anything to do with you,” the boy on my right said. “They should be welcoming you here, not ostracizing you.”
I continued walking, keeping my gaze straight ahead, and they remained right alongside.
“Is that right?” I asked.
“Yes, it is. I’m Gerry Balwin. My friends call me Grog. And this is Skip Lester.”
I stopped and turned to him.
“Okay, what do you want?” I demanded.
He smiled and looked at his friend.
“We just thought that maybe you’d like to come to a party we’re having.”
“What party?”
“A cool party,” Skip said. “There’ll be some other girls there, but three of us really want you to come. We thought, that is…”
“We’ll give you three hundred dollars, that’s a hundred apiece,” Grog offered quickly. “That’s what you got before, isn’t it?”
A big part of me wanted to lash out and slap the side of his face so hard his head would spin around. My heart was thumping with anger I didn’t expect, but I figured Taylor and Rae were right about how to get back at these boys. Just smacking them wouldn’t do much and in the end, they would surely deny what they had said and I’d be the one getting in trouble again.
“Where’s the party?”
“It’s at Ashley’s house. I wrote down the address for you,” Grog said, “with the time. It’s Saturday night.” He handed me a slip of paper. “We’ll have the money there and promise to give it to you as soon as you come. We’ll keep it a secret, too.”
“Most of the other girls in the school, the ones who look down on you, will be jealous you got invited and they didn’t. We won’t tell them why. You’ll be invited to other things afterward,” Skip assured me.
“What kind of a party is it going to be? I hope there’s something else to do,” I added.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Grog said, smiling. “Ashley’s prepared. He’ll have some good stuff.”