“Bonjour, Lane,” Sadie’s friends called back, enjoying themselves immensely.

And then she went back to her seat and left me there.

I stared down at the textbook that was old enough to buy beer, trying to muster my nerve. I never did this sort of thing. I volunteered to pass back exam booklets, and I went to school sick so I wouldn’t lose out on the perfect attendance award. I followed the rules because that was why rules existed, to be followed.

At least, that’s what I’d always believed. And now I was standing at the front of the room, not because the teacher wanted me to, but because Sadie had dared me. Because it was worth getting in trouble if it meant I didn’t have to sit at Genevieve’s table anymore.

There was no such thing as an honor roll here, and no clubs that the teachers liked best. So I set my textbook on the desk and did an impression of my dad.

I’d been stuck in his history class in the ninth grade, along with the other kids in the honors program, who couldn’t stand him. He was strict, and a tough grader, and he didn’t let anyone pee, even though his class was right after lunch. But mostly, he did this thing where he hit the board with the marker to stress his point, making eye contact with a specific student while he did it. No one whispered in his class. He was that terrifying.

“Répétez, plus vite,” I insisted, smacking the board with the marker and glaring at Angela.

She giggled nervously and gave the correct answer.

“Exactement,” I said coldly, writing it down.

Angela sank down in her seat, pouting, and Genevieve shot her a sympathetic look. Sadie and her friends were in hysterics. Some of the other students were grinning. I went on, encouraged, and somehow managed not to break character. In middle school, I’d taken a drama class where we played improv games and acted out two-page scenes. I’d wanted to sign up again in high school, but it would have ruined my class rank if I didn’t take a weighted elective, so I’d picked up AP Art History instead.

I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed stuff like this, how fun it was to step outside myself. I was on the second-to-last question when the laughter went totally quiet. Something was wrong, I could feel it. I turned.

Finnegan stood in the doorway, staring at me, unsure what was going on. And to tell you the truth, I hardly knew, either.

It wasn’t like the room was in chaos or anything. Far from it. The board was filled with neatly numbered corrections, and everyone was in their seats, quietly marking their answers, while I ran the class like Professor Snape was my spirit animal.

“Qu’est-ce qui se passe là?” Finnegan demanded.

“Rien,” I said, putting down the marker. “Sorry.”

I hurried back to my seat, my heart pounding. Finnegan had caught me goofing off, and now I was going to catch hell. I expected him to yell, or send me to some administrative office, or kick me out, but he just shook his head, like he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this kind of thing.

He stared at the uncapped marker I’d left on his desk, and at the board, with Sadie’s cursive scrawl and my neat printing, a pinched expression on his face like he didn’t want to touch anything we might have used.

“Someone erase this,” he said, motioning toward the board. “Genevieve.”

Genevieve flounced to the front of the room and started wiping the board.

“Everyone pass forward your work,” he said. “Then go to lunch. Sadie, stay behind, please.”

I tore my assignment out of my notebook and passed it forward, glancing over at Sadie. She shrugged, like it was no big deal, and I wondered why Finnegan hadn’t asked me to stay behind as well. I’d been the one at the board, the one screwing around instead of working in my seat. On the grand list of detention-getters, my name should have been at the top.

I was thinking about this while I packed my bag, and then I looked up and found Nick, Charlie, and Marina standing around my desk. They were all staring at me like I’d gotten away with the biggest prank ever, which I suppose I had, since Finnegan had let me go without even a warning.

“Dude,” Nick said. “That was terrifying. I was having flashbacks to my geometry teacher.”

“Thanks, I guess?” I shouldered my bag and stood up, following them into the hall.

“I thought you were going to start taking points from Ravenclaw,” said Marina.

“Gryffindor, and don’t tempt me.” I gave her my look of doom.

Marina giggled.

“You’re the one who ran interference for us with the librarian, right?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.” I was surprised she remembered.

“That was really cool of you,” said Nick. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” I mumbled, a little embarrassed.

But something about the way they’d phrased it stuck with me. They thought I’d done it for them, when the whole time I’d been so focused on the librarian catching Sadie that I hadn’t thought about anyone else. It was strange to realize they’d all been there.

“Do we really have to wait for Sadie?” Charlie asked, glancing impatiently down the hallway.

“Well, that would be the nice thing to do,” said Nick.

“Good thing we’re not nice.” Charlie grinned.

“No, we really aren’t,” Nick said mock-seriously.

“Speak for yourself, because I’m darling,” said Marina.

“You’re the worst,” Nick told her. “You steal everything clever we say and use it in your fan fiction.”

Marina shot him a look.

“It’s not stealing, it’s recycling,” she said. “And whatever, you love it.”

“You know what I love? Beating the line,” said Charlie.

“Dude, there are, like, five hundred better ways to phrase that.” Nick laughed.

I’d never heard anyone talk the way they did, like you got a gold star for each clever remark. It was smart, but not show-offy smart, like the guys from Model UN, who always tried to prove that they knew more than you about some obscure topic they’d Wikipedia’d. This was more like seeing how self-deprecating you could be while still making everyone laugh.

They all began to walk away, toward the dining hall. I hesitated, unsure if I was supposed to follow, and after a couple of steps, Nick turned back around.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asked, like he’d expected me to join them all along.

“Yeah,” I said gratefully, catching up. “Of course.”

CHAPTER TEN

SADIE

THE WHOLE THING was Nick’s fault, really, so if Finnegan should have kept anyone after class, it was him. But Nick got away with everything, while I always got caught. I could hear him and Charlie and Marina laughing out in the hallway as I approached Finnegan’s desk.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked.

Finnegan sighed, looking all martyrish, like he deserved a medal for spending more time with one of us than he absolutely had to.

“Yes, Sadie, I did,” he said. “I know you were the one responsible for today’s . . . excitement.”

He actually called it that—excitement. Way to be overdramatic.

“What’s so exciting about grading our work?” I asked.

And then he launched into this totally bullshit speech about how correcting the assignments in class puts unnecessary pressure on everyone, and doing your best was enough without stressing over your grade, and how I’d been at Latham long enough to know that.

“I don’t want anyone getting sick because of the French homework,” he said.

“You mean dying,” I corrected. “Because we’re already sick.”

Finnegan gave me a watery sort of smile, like he preferred tiptoeing around the subject.

“Yes,” he clarified. “I mean dying.”

The word floated there in silence, neither of us knowing what to do now that he’d actually said it.

“Wow, thanks for protecting us from dying of French homework,” I said sarcastically. I was already in trouble, so what did it matter if I kept going? “It’s supercool of you to care so much.”