what I find out, okay?â She gave me a wink and my head spun with rage. Donât get cutesy with me. This is my life weâre talking about. My one break.
If there was no money, Iâd be back at Jansen. Iâd be back with my homies, yeah, but Iâd have no future. Might as well shoot me, because my life would be over anyway.
Later, as we filed into art class, Rankin handed back our Mint projects. Iâd made a blueprint of the production floor weâd seen on our field trip, with all the machines and everything. I was pretty proud of itâwe had only spent an hour there, but Iâd been able to recreate the entire place from memory. On my paper was a pink Post-It noteâRankin didnât like writing on our âworkââwith a red C. A stinking C? Under it he'd written, This is a great rendering, Benny, but next time, try to use your imagination.
It was the first C Iâd gotten at HF, and it was one more slap in the face.
I didnât need my imagination, I wanted to tell him. I was a mechanic, and I could fix a car in my sleep. Nothing imaginary about that. And by the way? All of this art stuff was bullshit.
But what did it matter now? I was leaving. Iâd never see any of these people again. Maybe that was for the best.
Instead of relief, though, I was just worried. I still had no idea how I was going to tell my grandparents. Maybe if I waited long enough, the school would call and do it for me. Even then, theyâd still be devastated. This was their dreamâthey were getting old and they didnât have much elseâand it was about to be smashed.
I sank down in the first empty seat I saw and stared into space, thinking. If Rankin thought I was gonna pay attention to his lectures about lines and fonts now, he was crazy. I could barely even enjoy looking at Dakota, I was so low. You know times are desperate when a girl in tight jeans canât fix it.
âI donât think that would work,â whispered this little girl with glasses sitting next to me. She was tiny, looked like she was twelve or something, and she always had some crazy hat on. Iâd seen her around the halls, but we didnât have any other classes together. I think her name was Alicia, or Alice, or something. âYouâd need at least three people. One to work remotely, and two for the haul. And, to be frank, I donât understand why youâre so obsessed with this.â
The guy she was huddled with was the headmasterâs kid. Jason. He shrugged. âI just think itâs interesting that it could be done. I think thereâs potential there.â
âPotential for what?â she asked quietly.
âI donât know. To get some money, funds, for whatever we need.â
My ears perked up.
âYouâre serious,â she said. She was smiling this funny half-smile.
Were they talking about pulling some job? Something illegal? These two? That was hi- larious .
âItâs a victimless crime,â he said. âNo one will lose anything, because that money wouldnât technically exist. Itâs not really stealingâitâs more like adapting it for our needs.â
âBut isnât that what fundraising is for?â
âYeah, well, itâs worse than you think,â he said. âWhatâs happening here. I happen to know some stuff, and it doesnât look good.â
Her voice dropped to an even lower whisper, but I could still hear her. âSo youâre saying you want to try it. For real. The Mint. For HF.â
Time to make myself known. âSo whatâs the scheme?â
They both whipped their heads around guiltily. The headmasterâs kid grimaced, his mouth a tight little line. âNo scheme. Iâm kidding,â he said. âItâs a joke. Ha.â
âYou sounded pretty real to me,â I said.
He looked surprised, maybe because I was Invisible Man and they hadnât even realized
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley