Noah rubbed his chin. “And I might’ve let it slip that Tom’s dad had people looking into this whole mess.”
“Dude!” I said. My best friend was always terrible at keeping secrets.
“Way to go, Noah,” Sam snapped. “How can Tom catch Andrew if he stops pulling pranks?”
Noah shook his head. “No way he’s going to stop. Someone like that has to go out with a bang, you know?”
I glanced across the cafeteria. Andrew sat right where I’d seen him last, alone at a table by the wall. I felt sorry for him, and kind of irritated at my friends for not believing me about Mr. Osborne. Sam of all people should know what it’s like being blamed for something she didn’t do.
“Maybe you’re right,” Sam admitted to Noah. “Maybe he just hasn’t had the chance to set anything up while Tom is following him.”
“We could stay after school,” Amy suggested. “Maybe he needs the school empty to set up the next prank.”
“Excellent idea, Ames,” Noah said. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Sam agreed.
My three friends looked at me, waiting for my reply.
“Okay.” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll text my dad.” My father never minded staying late to get more work done. That was one of the perks of having his offices right across the street from the academy.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Andrew take his tray toward the kitchen. He was on the move.
I sighed and nodded his way. “That’s my cue.” I took a few more bites before gathering my things.
“Hey, Swift,” Sam said. “Maybe you should ‘lose’ him just after school’s out.”
“Good idea,” Noah said with a grin. “Give him a chance to set up and us a chance to catch him in the act.”
“Whatever you say,” I said as I picked up my tray.
I lingered a bit longer until Andrew was headed toward the exit, then I quickly dumped my tray. I had no intention of losing him. I wanted to be his alibi when the real prankster made his move.
I followed Andrew from the cafeteria to the computer lab. There were a few other students there, so I was able to sit at a station near the back of the classroom without being noticed. Andrew worked on a computer of his own for the remainder of lunch period.
After that, it was back to business as usual. I trailed him to every class, trying not to be noticed. It would’ve been easier if Andrew stopped to talk to any of his new friends, like I had seen him do days before. But, instead, Andrew kept to himself, not interacting with anyone. The prankster rumor really seemed to be hitting him hard.
Normally, once I got to robotics class, I’d be able to catch up with my friends—at least Sam and Noah. But today, Mrs. Scott kept everyone busy as she laid out our new assignment. Our groups were to design and build a robot that could ascend and descend stairs. From the gleam in Noah’s eyes, I could tell that he was ready to outfit Raider with the new technology once we designed it. I actually agreed. It would be cool to be able to skip the elevator with him once in a while.
After the final bell rang, I followed Andrew to his locker, as I had done all day. And then… I lost him. I mean, for real lost him. I had been busy with my own locker, and when I looked back up, he was gone. He must’ve blended in with the students leaving for the day. I pushed through the crowd, trying to find him again, but it was no good.
Hitching up my backpack, I headed to the gym where my friends and I had planned to meet. As I walked in, I spotted them sitting in the bleachers. Raider patrolled the area in front of them.
“Did you see him do anything?” Sam asked before I had made it halfway across the gym.
I glanced around nervously. We were mostly alone; only two fencers sparred at the other end.
I shook my head. “Not a thing.”
Sam clasped her hands together. “Okay, we just wait for the school to clear out some more, and then we catch Andrew in the act.”
“Or whoever it is,” I added.
Noah put his hands on his hips. “You’re still on that?”
I shrugged. “I’m just saying, Andrew didn’t do anything suspicious all day.” I nodded toward the gym exit. “Meanwhile, Mr. Osborne could’ve been setting up his next big prank.”
“He has a point,” Amy said. “That’s why I swung by the chemistry lab every chance I got today.”
“Really?” I asked.
Amy shrugged. “But Mr. Osborne was there almost every time I looked in. Sorry, Tom.”
Noah pointed at her. “There, you see?”
“I guess so” is what I said. But, no, I didn’t see. I just knew I was right about Mr. Osborne.
We killed about thirty minutes waiting for the school to clear. Amy did homework while Sam, Noah, and I put Raider through some exercises. Noah had programmed basic commands and it almost felt as if we were training a real dog.
Sam checked her watch. “Think it’s about time?”
We knew the school wouldn’t be completely cleared. Many students stayed late to work on projects. But the place should have been deserted enough to let the prankster set up his next trick.
“I think so,” I replied. “How about you and Amy take this floor, I’ll take the second floor, and Noah takes the third?”
Noah pointed at Raider. “Hard to sneak in and out of an elevator.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Fine. Amy and I will take the third floor.”
Amy packed up her stuff, leaving her backpack with ours piled on the bleachers.
“Remember, search every classroom,” Noah reminded us. “You never know where he might strike.” Raider followed him obediently as we headed for the gym door.
“Got it,” I said. But I planned to begin my search in one particular classroom: the chemistry lab—the main reason I’d chosen the floor assignment. I would either trail Mr. Osborne from there or find his stash of supplies.
Sam, Amy, and I hit the stairs. They continued up to the third floor as I got off on the second. I didn’t bother searching any of the classrooms along the way, running straight for the chem lab. It was at the opposite end of the school, so I poured on the speed. My eyes locked on the entrance.
When I was about halfway there, the lab door flew open. My heart skipped a beat as I dove into the first alcove I came to. I turned back and peeked around the corner. Someone was exiting the lab carrying one of the stools.
Andrew Foger.
He glanced around before hauling the stool to the wall opposite the door, then climbed on top and stood, reaching toward something mounted on the wall. He seemed to adjust the object before climbing back down. Once back on the ground, he picked up the stool and carried it back to the chemistry lab. After the door shut behind him, I left my hiding spot and raced closer. I felt a rock in my gut when I looked up to see one of the tiny cameras six feet up. That’s what Andrew had been adjusting.
My friends were right. It had been Andrew all along.
16 The Exothermic Eruption
THE ROCK IN MY STOMACH must’ve been coal, because now it burned with rage. I couldn’t believe I’d actually stood up for that guy. I wanted to rip down the camera and make off with the memory card. I’d take it straight to Mr. Davenport, if he was still in his office. If not, I’d take it home and upload a video of my own. Better yet, I’d give it to Sam to post on her blog. Then everyone could see video of Andrew setting up the camera and the mystery of the blurred blogger would be solved once and for all.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t reach the camera. Andrew was a little taller than me, and he’d needed a stool to get to it. I gave the camera another glance before I turned my attention to the chemistry lab, pulled out my phone, and began recording. If I couldn’t use Andrew’s video as evidence, I’d get the next best thing—a video of Andrew setting up his next prank.
I marched toward the door, flung it open, and stepped through, my phone at the ready. I spotted Andrew immediately. He sat at one of the worktables, tapping away on his laptop. The lights were off in the classroom,
so the glow from the screen illuminated his face.
“There he is!” I said loudly for the camera. “The blurred blogger, minus the blur, setting up his next prank.”
Andrew jumped when I entered, but then shook his head. “What are you doing here, Junior?”
“Catching you in the act,” I replied, stepping toward him, my phone held out in front of me.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you put that thing down and look at this before all your yelling gets everyone’s attention?” He pointed to his computer screen.
Honestly, I was surprised how casual he was acting, especially after being caught red-handed. I lowered my phone and glanced at his computer screen. But when I saw the video frozen there, I raised my phone again, needing to capture video of my own.
“I just saw that,” I said. “I was down the hall when you were adjusting the camera.”
“This is the end of the video, doofus,” Andrew said. “I’m not adjusting the camera here. This is me pulling the memory card out of the camera.” He restarted the video from the beginning. “This is what I want to show you.”
The screen showed a jumble of images, like the camera was recording but being jostled. Then the image cleared, and I could see the school corridor outside. The camera seemed to rise off the ground. It was as if I were watching the view from a tiny plane, flying up the side of the wall. The image blurred as the camera rotated 180 degrees. Then I saw a close-up of the culprit in the act of mounting the camera to the wall.
Mr. Osborne.
“No way,” I muttered, lowering my phone. I mean, I had guessed it was him, but seeing proof was still shocking.
In the video, our teacher looked over his shoulder, aiming the camera toward the chemistry lab door. When he was satisfied, he climbed down from his ladder, picked it up, and carried it back into the lab. A moment later, he exited with a large white bucket.
“I guessed it was him after I saw the last video,” Andrew explained. “You know that ‘All right, gang’ thing he always says? Super annoying.”
“That’s exactly what the blogger said,” I finished.
“Right.” Andrew nodded. “I got the idea when I heard Osborne’s voice go deep that day.”
“Me too. I told my friends the exact same thing, but they didn’t buy it.”
“Yeah, right,” Andrew scoffed. “Then what was all this… ‘I caught you in the act’ stuff?”
My eyes went wide. “What was I supposed to think? I saw you messing with that camera. I thought I’d been wrong and you were setting up the next prank.”
Andrew pointed to the front of the room. “Looks like the next prank is good to go.”
In rushing to catch Andrew on camera, I hadn’t noticed the huge plastic trash can in front of Mr. Osborne’s desk. A tall stepladder (probably the one from the video) stood next to it. I moved closer and turned on my phone’s flashlight app, aiming the beam inside the container, and saw that it was about three-quarters full of some strange blue liquid.
“What is this stuff?” I asked.
Andrew shrugged. “Beats me.”
I turned off my phone’s light and spun back around. “We have to report this.”
“You’re right about that.” Then Andrew nodded toward the wall. “As soon as I grab the cards from the rest of the cameras. I need as much proof as possible to clear my name.”
“I can help with that,” I offered.
Andrew laughed. “Oh, sure. Because you and your friends have been so helpful so far.”
“Well, what did you expect after what you pulled at camp? And with Sam? And then you show up here, right when the first prank happens.”
“Hey, I didn’t plan that.” He edged closer. “It’s not my fault one of your teachers goes rogue on my first day at this stupid school.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Yeah, so, why are you even here, anyway?”
His lips screwed into a grimace. “That’s for me to know—”
“Don’t give me that. Why don’t you tell me the truth for once? Since you were the big man at Bradley, why did you end up here?”
Andrew’s eyes flashed with fury. “Because my dad couldn’t afford to bail me out anymore, okay? Are you happy now?” He glared at me a moment longer before his shoulders slumped. “Man, I’m here on a scholarship.”
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “Lots of students are. It means that you’re here on your own merit. That no one bought your way in.” I let out a long breath. “Look, why do you think I work so hard not to get special treatment? I want people to know I’m here because I deserve it, not just because my name’s on the sign out front.”
Andrew cracked a smile. “Yeah, I still don’t get that.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
Andrew shushed me.
“What are you—”
He motioned for me to be quiet again, then pointed toward the door. Someone was whistling as they walked down the hallway. Andrew and I both froze. Maybe the person was just passing by. When the whistling grew even louder, Andrew closed his laptop and ducked behind the worktable. I followed his lead.
The footsteps approached until we heard the door open. Luckily, the worktables were built on top of cabinets, so there was just enough room to conceal both of us from being seen by whoever had entered.
I couldn’t help it. I had to take a peek. I guess Andrew felt the same way, since we both leaned out to glance around the table’s base.
Mr. Osborne.
The teacher held the same white bucket from the video, except this time it appeared to be full. He grunted as he mounted the ladder, light steam escaping the opening as he climbed higher and higher. If the container was full of hot water, maybe he had gone to the cafeteria to fill it. After all, there was no way that big bucket would fit under the spigots of the smaller sinks in each worktable.
Mr. Osborne groaned as he lifted the bucket over the top of the ladder and set it on the small shelf on the side opposite the rungs. He must’ve modified the ladder in some way, because after he twisted the bucket, it clicked into place.
He started whistling again as he descended, then moved to his desk and opened a large cardboard box, reached in, and pulled out a tangle of strange objects. He dislodged one from the others—a flat pad, about a third of a square meter, with a long, trailing wire. Flopping the square onto the floor in front of the trash can, he connected the other end of the wire to a small plastic box at the top of the ladder. He did the same thing six more times, until all the squares were laid on the floor.
I was tempted to burst out of hiding and tell him he was busted, teacher or not, but, honestly, I was too busy trying to figure out what he was up to. The strange contraption didn’t make any sense to me.
Whatever he was doing, it looked like he’d completed his task. He continued his tune as he grabbed a briefcase from his desk and headed toward the door. I noticed that he was careful not to step on any of the pads as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Andrew and I waited behind the table until Mr. Osborne’s footsteps and whistling faded into nothingness before we slowly stood and edged toward the ladder.
“What was he doing?” Andrew asked.
I moved closer to the ladder. “I don’t know.”
Steam still wisped from the top of the bucket. I was about to climb the rungs and look inside when it dawned on me what the pads on the ground were. I put an arm out to stop Andrew from coming any closer.
“What?” he asked.
“Those pads are pressure switches. You know, like the kind you see in haunted houses.” I’ve repurposed some myself from old Halloween decorations, incorporating a few into my own inventions.
Andrew stopped in his tracks. “So, we step on one of those…” His eyes followed the wires up to the bucket. “And whatever is in there dumps into the trash can.”
Now that I was closer, I could just make out the hinge on the stepladder’s shelf. The small black box must operate
a quick release of some kind.
Keeping my feet planted where they were, I brought up my phone and shot off a group text to my friends. Meet me in the chem lab.
Andrew turned to me and smiled. “Now we’ve got him for sure.” He held up his laptop. “We take this to Davenport, show him the video, and then bring him back to see the latest prank setup.” He gestured to the other cameras on the wall. “He can pull those memory cards himself and I’ll be totally off the hook.”
I nodded. “You’re right.”
The door flew open as Sam and Amy raced in. Sam grinned when she spotted Andrew next to me. “Caught him in the act, huh?”
I froze. They were about to step on one of the pads.
“Don’t move!” Andrew and I cried in unison.
I pointed to the floor. “Those pressure switches will set off the prank.”
Sam and Amy froze, their attention on the multiple squares laid out across the floor. Sam looked up at Andrew and her eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
He laughed. “I didn’t do anything. It was Mr. Osborne. He’s the blurred blogger.”
Sam put her hands on her hips. “Oh, really?”
“It’s true,” I confirmed. “We saw him set up the whole thing.”
Amy let out a long breath. “Wow, it’s just like you said, Tom.”
I motioned to her, then looked at Andrew. “See, I told you I figured it out too.”
Andrew waved me off. “Whatevs. At least I can prove that I didn’t do it.” He carefully stepped toward the door. “I’m going to see if Davenport is still here.”
Sam jutted a thumb at Andrew. “He really isn’t the prankster?”
“No,” I replied. “Andrew has a memory card from one of the cameras. It shows Osborne setting this whole rig up, just like Noah said.”
“What did I say?” Noah asked as he stepped into the room. Then he saw Andrew standing beside him. “Oh, hey! You caught him.”
The Blurred Blogger Page 8
