Coin Heist by Elisa Ludwig Page A

I was there. I probably should have just kept quiet, because now they were both freezing up.
    â€œIt’s a hypothetical situation,” the girl said. “We’re just talking it through. Like role-playing?”
    â€œOkay, well, if it’s just hypothetical, then let me role-play, too.” I’ll admit I was mostly testing them, to see how far they were gonna take it. I was willing to bet this skinny kid was all talk. But the other chick, Alice, was staring at him with her big eyes. Super-serious.
    â€œYeah?” Jason said, checking me out. “And what can you do? You’d need to have some skills. Alice’s really good at hacking. I’m good at leading and planning.”
    I thought about it for a moment. “I can fix cars. Or anything mechanical, really.”
    â€œHuh.” He looked doubtful.
    My eyes traveled around the room and locked on Dakota, who was standing nearby, wearing these sexy-ass boots. Was she listening in, too? Nah, she was probably just deep in thought about her project.
    â€œAnd IDs,” I added. “I can make any kind of ID.” I’d been doing that for years around the neighborhood. You might think it was for buying booze, but it was actually to help kids who already had a record. The police were always coming through and stopping people, and some of these guys just wanted to avoid more trouble. A new identity would do that for you.
    Alice’s eyes lit up. “That could help, Jason. We could use IDs.”
    So maybe it was a game, like one of those things kids did with the magic cards or some shiz, but it was fun. Rankin left us alone to work on our next project, so we spent the rest of the period talking about it, the ins and outs. Who would do what, and how it would all work.
    As we kept going I started to think: Maybe, if we could get enough money to save this school, they’d bring back my scholarship, and I could stay here next year and go to college like my grandparents wanted me to. Then someday I could open my own business and make enough money to pay them back for all they’d done for me. Maybe even buy them some things they needed, like a new fridge, railings on the stairs. And a new AC unit. Send my dad in the D.R. a cut.
    It was the best time I ever had in any class at HF. To the point that by the time the bell rang and we grabbed our stuff for the next class, and Jason asked if we wanted to meet at lunch the next day, I actually said I would.
    And then I was out in the hallway, head spinning. It was a game, wasn’t it?
    If it wasn’t, what the hell had I just agreed to?

Nine
    ALICE
    Greg and I were in the cafeteria line, pulling foil- wrapped chicken sandwiches from under the heat lamps.
    â€œI don’t think they have the right to call these things tenders,” Greg said as he peered under the bun, his acne glowing red from the light.
    â€œMaybe toughers?” I suggested, poking mine, which had the texture of boiled rubber.
    â€œWe should start bringing our own,” he said.
    I agreed. With all the cutbacks, the food was getting steadily more budget every day. Where once we had organic tuna pita pockets, we now had peanut butter and jelly. The milks were half the size and the salad bar bins were filled with canned vegetables.
    â€œWell, I better run,” Greg said, gathering up the contents of his meal and heading for the cashier. “I told Mr. Jenkins I’d help him in the lab. After school?”
    â€œCatch you later,” I said, inching down the line.
    When I got to the drinks cooler, I noticed Jason was talking to the red-haired lunch lady. He was leaning over the metal rail and shaking his head.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” I heard him saying, and he sounded really upset. “Look, I’ll see what I can find out, okay? Don’t panic. There’s got to be an answer.”
    What was he sorry about? Even weirder was that he was talking to her like they were friends. She