Finn and Daphne sat side by side against the cold brick wall in the little cove she called her bedroom. There was still no bed other than the padded cushion on the floor, but she’d grown comfortable with that. And the few clothes she had were enough, especially since Lily had offered to let Daphne borrow some of hers if she needed them.
“Daffy,” Finn muttered. “Remember the day we first met? In the library?” They both hid their noses behind fans of playing cards printed with an image of an old German castle on the backs—a souvenir from one student’s parents that Finn borrowed, no doubt.
“Of course I do. You scared the crap out of me. You have a four?”
“Go fish. What exactly were you doing?”
Daphne picked up the top card on the stack of cards on the floor in front of them. She carefully wedged the card between the third and fourth in her fan.
“I told you, I was sending an email.”
“Yeah, but all the computers in the library are password protected. How did you get in?”
“Oh, that’s one of the easiest hacks,” Daphne said, as if she were speaking of a childhood game. “Your turn.”
“Really?” Finn’s face was full of surprise and interest. Daphne looked back at him expectantly. He glanced back down at his cards. “You got a jack?”
Daphne pulled two cards out and reluctantly handed them to Finn. “Don’t tell me that you guys can pull all these pranks, wire electricity, rebuild computers from scraps . . . but you can’t hack into a simple computer system?”
Finn snickered. “We can. There are just some, uh, limitations. Hangman’s able to hack into the academy’s main account. But it takes him a while. Not like you. It only took you seconds to get in. How do you do it?”
“It’s not as hard as it seems. I have a program on my flash drive that can target the correct password within seconds.”
“Your flash drive, huh? Please tell me you brought it with you,” Finn begged.
Daphne nodded.
“Do you think you could get into a more secure account?”
“Sure. I might have to download a different program. Why?”
“We’ve been trying to get into Pervpot’s personal account. I don’t know what kind of security it’s got, but we can’t seem to break in, no matter how long Hangman has tried.”
“Why do you want to hack into Trappe’s account?”
Finn folded up his cards and placed them back on the pile. Daphne followed with her own cards. “Remember what I told you about him?” Daphne nodded, recalling that day by the lake when Finn told her about his expulsion from the academy. “I think there might be some evidence on his computer. Evidence that could convict him for good. I heard him dictating one night and I believe that file, along with others might be in the system. I need to get my hands on that so I can turn it over to the police.”
“Okay, so let’s just sneak into the library tonight and I’ll get to work.” Daphne shrugged.
“It’s not really that easy,” Finn murmured. “His account isn’t on the main server. It can only be accessed from the computer in his office.”
Daphne turned to him, gaping. “So there is actually something the invincible Finn can’t do!”
“Hey,” Finn said playfully shoving Daphne, “I didn’t say I couldn’t. I said it wasn’t easy.”
Daphne playfully shoved him back. “When has that ever stopped you.”
“It hasn’t. Just delayed me a little bit.” Finn winked.
“Sounds like a challenge,” Daphne offered, amused.
Finn took her hand in his, his eyes alight with excitement. “You’ll help me?”
Daphne reveled in the warmth of his hand, the way his thumb smoothed over her skin, sending zings up her arm. She nodded. “Yes. Of course I will.”
Finn’s face drew closer to hers. Fear blended with excitement in a murky medley of heightened emotions. Daphne and Finn had been spending so much time together, she knew it was inevitable. Their feelings for each other had been simmering under the surface. But they both kept that pot lidded. Now the vapors were pushing through. Steam rising. Daphne closed her eyes. She willed herself to step away but she couldn’t.
“Finn!”
Daphne jerked back both grateful and resentful of the interruption. Belle stood in the doorway, a mischievous grin beaming down at Daphne.
“Hey Belle.” Finn stood abruptly, as if nothing were about to happen. “What’s up?”
“We have a problem. Come with me.”
Finn gestured Daphne to follow and went with Belle to the cellar, where the boys were huddled around in a semicircle, staring down at a phone that Hangman was cradling in his palm.
“The line’s been cut,” Hangman said as he saw Finn approach. “We’ve got no connection.”
“None of us do,” Kevin added.
Finn snatched the phone, looked at the error message on the screen, and tossed it back before pulling his own phone out of his back pocket. He padded the screen with his thumbs expertly and then lifted his head slowly.
“That’s not all,” Toot said as he switched on the TV and pushed the play button on the DVD player. “We thought we were stealing The Return of the King. Instead we got this.”
Byron Trappe’s face appeared on the screen. He was sitting at his desk in his office with the backdrop of bookshelves behind him. Daphne recognized it from the tour. The folds of his wrinkled face looked slimy. Sweat glistened on his forehead, just above the nests of bushy dark eyebrows. His light gray eyes looked hollow and empty.
“By now you’ve probably discovered that your little private phone service has been cut. I don’t know how you got hold of the phones and had them activated, but your playtime is over. I’m on to you Preston. And I will find you. I’ll give you this last chance to leave the academy on your own. That goes for you and all your friends. You leave, or the stakes get higher and I will not be responsible for what happens to trespassers on the grounds of Neverland Academy. I trust you will make the right decision, Preston. This ends now, boy.”
Finn’s brow furrowed. A grimace replaced his flirty grin. The look in his eyes so sharp and fiery not a single soul would dare step into his view. The words that came out of his mouth were snakelike, sharp and hissing.
“You’re damn right it does, Pervpot.”
***
Hammering against the windowpanes, the rain came down almost sideways, in huge drops, like wet clumps of toilet paper being hurled against the glass. The melodic rattling on the rooftop was sleep-inducing, yet headmaster Byron Trappe was wide awake. He sat at his desk, reclining in his fine leather chair, his hands clasped round the back of his head while he watched nature’s attempt to break through the window.
Professor Smeed paced back and forth nervously as if traipsing barefoot through a bed of broken glass, unable to show the serenity that Trappe seemed to be exuding. In his hand was a clipboard with hastily jotted scribbles on the top page. He was mumbling incoherently to himself.
“Stop that ambulating, Smeed,” Trappe sighed. “It’s terribly distracting.”
“A-apologies, sir. I can’t help it. I d-don’t think he’ll take your offer. I just know he’s going to reciprocate. I-I don’t think I can handle another incident!”
“Of course he’s going to reciprocate!” Trappe hollered. “I expect nothing less from that roach.” Trappe stood and hobbled over to the window. He swept his finger across the sill and studied the pillow of dust that remained on his fingertip. “That boy is a virus that has plagued us for the last five years. It’s not simply going to go away. No. It must be eradicated entirely. But I had to let him feel he was given a choice. Let him think he has the upper hand.”
“What are we going to do? Can’t we get in touch with his parents?” Smeed’s hand trembled. He dropped the clipboard on to the desk and rubbed his hands together to still them.
“His family is of no help. They’ve washed their hands of him and have no desire to take him back. I obviously can’
t involve the authorities. So we’ve got no choice—we’ll have to get our hands dirty.”
“What about the others? The other boys? Can’t we call their parents?”
“Smeed, do you really think that to be a wise idea? If we have these parents snooping around the academy, asking why their children have not been in classes for three, four, five years, don’t you think they might get a little suspicious as to how this academy is run? Don’t you think they might turn to the authorities, get courts involved?”
“I see,” Smeed conceded. His shoulders slumped hopelessly.
“Besides they should be held just as accountable as the boy. I see no reason to go light on any of them. They chose to follow the lead of a delinquent; they shall suffer the consequences. But Preston’s demise is our goal, first and foremost. That boy has been a thorn in my ass for far too long. I curse myself every morning for accepting his application. And I curse myself every evening for not expelling him sooner. If I had known how devious and acute that boy was I’d have rejected his admission to begin with. We don’t need malicious whistleblowers in this institution, Smeed. And after we get rid of him, the other boys have no leader to mimic. Nobody to plan such keen tricks. I’d bet my right foot they’ll leave on their own. But if we must, we’ll take them all down with Preston.”
“Take them down? When you say get our hands dirty, do you mean . . .?” Smeed’s voice faltered, trembling with the worry he wore so well.
“Yes, Professor Smeed. If it comes down to it, we will kill them all.”
***
Finn stormed off after the brief meeting in the cellar. Daphne wanted to follow him, but from the tightness in the air to the way Finn stomped away, it was obvious he needed space to blow off some steam. Belle disappeared shortly after Finn had. Daphne had a feeling she was going to try to catch up with him. Good luck, Daphne thought. She was sure Belle would have just about as much luck with him as a squirrel trying to wave a car down for a ride.
In the short time since she’d met Finn, Daphne felt like she’d really gotten to know him. It was like they were old childhood friends. His moods were generally jolly, but when something ate at him, he was live grenade, ready to go off at any minute. She knew she needed to keep her distance for his sake as much as hers. He needed time to himself. She almost felt sorry for what Belle would have to endure should she catch up with him. Almost.
The boys decided to chill out and watch a movie until the tension fizzled out. Daphne sat wedged between Toot and Shag. She thought she saw out of the corner of her eye that Shag was stealing quick glances at her sideways through the wisps of hair hanging over his eyes. She thought he was cute, in a puppy dog sort of way.
A few minutes into the movie, Lily drifted into the room barely causing a stir among the boys.
“Daphne!” she whispered.
Daphne slinked to the back of the cellar to meet her. Lily was holding a square piece of paper, a warm color like orange or red—it was too dim to be sure. She handed the thick paper to Daphne.
“It’s an invitation. To my birthday party.”
“For me?”
“Well, for all of you. It’ll be after hours, if you know what I mean. Mom says it’s okay as long as we don’t keep anyone up.” Daphne turned and looked around the cellar, examining the spaces on the walls, the reinforced soundproof ceiling, the dim lantern light, and cluttered shelves.
“Why don’t we just have it down here?” Daphne suggested. “We could have the party any time you want and we wouldn’t have to worry about waking anyone.”
“No offense Daff, but this is kind of a depressing place for a celebration.” Lily’s eyes traced the upper walls where cobwebs made their permanent homes.
“Don’t worry about that,” Daphne said. “Now that I’m here I’ll make sure this room is clean and decorated. Trust me.”
“What are you two going on about back there?” Kevin asked.
“We’re throwing a birthday party for Lily!” Daphne announced.
“Did somebody say party?” Trick grinned from ear to ear.
“Awesome!” Toot added.
“Only,” Lily firmly stated, “if Daphne is in charge. I don’t want spiders and roaches wearing party hats. Understand?”
“You da boss!” Toot saluted Daphne.
“It’ll be great,” Daphne assured Lily. “You’ll see.”
“Okay. I have to get back to work. See you later?”
Daphne nodded and said goodbye. She was excited to have a project to work on now. She enjoyed hanging out with Finn and getting involved in pranks, but it was starting to feel mundane. She wanted to do something fun that wasn’t so risky and intense. And after watching the Trappe video, everyone could use some time to relax. Her mind swirled with ideas for party themes and decorations. She felt energy rippling throughout her body, ready to get started. This was going to be epic.
***
“Go away, Belle.”
Rain soaked through Finn’s hair, creating rivers of water washing down his face. He sat on the edge of a tombstone in the old Trappe cemetery, a place where he did his best thinking. He needed to form a plan, but his mind was clouded with anger. It needed to dissipate before any cohesive strategy could be formed. Belle’s presence was only fogging it up more.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
Belle stood by an old oak tree at the edge of the cemetery, just outside the tilted iron fence. Her copper hair stuck to the sides of her face, revealing just how tiny her head really was. She looked like a wet cat.
“I’m fine,” Finn barked. “I just need to be alone.”
“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to accept some moral support sometime, Finn. You’re not Superman.”
Finn jerked around and glared at Belle. “I don’t need moral support, Belle. I need to think. And you’re distracting me.”
“Would you say the same if I was her?”
“What are you talking about?” Finn snapped.
“Daphne, you idiot! You wouldn’t send me away if I were Daphne.”
“What does Daffy have to do with anything? I can’t concentrate Belle. You need to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Belle stood stiff next to the tree. She crossed her arms defiantly; though it was obvious she was shivering under her drenched tank top and shorts.
“Damn it, Belle!” Finn growled. “Get the hell out of here! I don’t want you here. I don’t want you at all. Go home and leave me the hell alone!” Finn had snapped. He couldn’t control his anger any longer. His blood boiled, his veins protruded. All logical thinking had disappeared. All he could think about was Trappe’s dead body, cut up into pieces and dumped into a shallow grave.
Belle’s eyes swelled up. Though her face was already glistening with streams of rain, tears poured out of her lids. She turned and darted away from the cemetery, away from Finn. He would feel sorry for her later. He would apologize later. Right now, he had to think. Had to plan.
“What am I going to do with you, Trappe?” Finn asked himself. Most of the pranks he’d pulled before had been mischievous, harmless. Finn brushed those ideas aside. He needed to get serious. He needed to do something that would really hurt the headmaster. Until Daphne could unlock the priceless files on Trappe’s laptop he couldn’t destroy him completely. But he had to send a message, just as Trappe did to him.
Finn glanced back toward the tree where Belle had been standing minutes earlier. He felt like a part of him was missing. Or taken away. As hard as he tried to focus on planning, he couldn’t get what Belle had said out of his head. “You wouldn’t send me away if I were Daphne.”
She was right. He wouldn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
The Heist
Standing on the tips of her toes and grasping the long handle of a broom tightly in her fists, Daphne reached up, brushing it over the corners where the walls met the ceiling. She’d gotten used to running around barefoot now, and since befriending Lily, she had the means
to give herself a pedicure so her feet wouldn’t look like they belonged on a troll. Though they were slightly dusty on the soles, her toenails brandished a bright candy apple red that sparkled under the lantern light.
Rock music played on the DVD player while the other boys begrudgingly tidied the room. Hangman was lugging an armful of computer components to the boys’ sleeping area when he passed Finn entering the room.
“What’s going on?” Finn asked, perplexed at the boys’ sudden attention to tidiness.
“Ask the girl,” Hangman said with a sharpness to his voice, as he continued on with his load.
“Daffy?”
Dropping the broom, she leaned it against the corner of the cellar and wiped the sweat from her brow with her shirt. She caught Finn looking at the exposed skin on her belly and tugged the shirt down quickly, remembering that she was the only one wearing a bra in a room full of boys. She smiled at Finn and pulled out the stiff paper from her back pocket.
“Here,” she said, handing it to him.
“Lily’s birthday,” Finn whispered to himself.
“I told her we would throw a party for her down here, so we wouldn’t bother any of the other staff at her house. I hope that’s okay.”
Finn grinned ear to ear and grabbed her by the shoulders. Daphne flinched at the sharp electricity that jolted into her. “That’s a fantastic idea, Daffy!” Warmth flooded her veins. The feeling was addictive—she wanted more. She shoved the unwelcome craving out of her mind, reminding herself that Finn was nothing more than a good friend.
“But . . . how did you get them to help you clean?”
“I told them I’d steal some of Trappe’s vodka. The good stuff that he keeps locked away, not the cheap generic crap you guys always get. Lily said he’s got a collection in his bedroom.”
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