The Girl Who Knew Even More

by Commander S. T. Bolivar, III

  Eliot looked up. “Would you teach me?”

  “Maybe.” Delia tossed her hair. Or tried to toss her hair. With any other girl, this would make their braids or ponytails or loose hair bounce, but as far as Mattie could tell, Delia’s hair never bounced. It stayed in its tight knot as if glued with cement. She strolled off like the world was watching, which it wasn’t, but Eliot certainly was.

  Caroline looked down at her paper, gripping her pen hard enough to shake. “I can’t believe I have to share a dorm with her. She’s making Beezus molt. He’s been a nervous wreck since she moved in.”

  Mattie eyed Caroline’s stomach, picturing the rat that was curled behind her sweater. There were a lot of things that made Beezus molt—things like allergies and unpeeled grapes and days that ended in Y being at the top of the list.

  Mattie glanced at Eliot expecting to see his friend nodding in agreement. But Eliot wasn’t nodding or agreeing. He stared into the distance, looking a bit ill.

  “Are you about to be sick?” Mattie asked. In truth, Mattie didn’t think Eliot looked sick so much as weird. His friend’s eyes were glassy and his mouth was slightly open. Eliot panted ever so slightly.

  Okay, he looked sick and weird, but the important thing to remember here is Mattie and Caroline had no idea why.

  But I do, because the “worse” I promised you had arrived in another horrible wave. Eliot Spencer had just fallen in love with Delia Dane.

  “SHE’S MAGNIFICENT,” ELIOT SAID SOFTLY, eyes still glassy.

  Mattie gaped. “What?”

  “Delia.” Eliot sat back in his chair and passed one hand over his face. “She’s magnificent. How could I not have seen it before?”

  Mattie looked at Caroline and Caroline looked at Mattie. They both swallowed. Eliot watched Delia as if she were made of magic. Mattie peered closely at the girl, trying to see what Eliot saw, and failed.

  Although Mattie did appreciate how she could throw an elbow. Delia managed to hit Doyle right in the softest spot on his side. The bigger boy yelped and looked around. When he saw Delia walking away, his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t follow her. Delia just didn’t look like the kind of girl who would elbow someone.

  “You can’t possibly like her,” Caroline said at last, nose wrinkled. “She’s horrible.”

  “So is everyone here.” Eliot paused. “Well, everyone except for Mattie. He’s the only good kid.”

  “Sometimes that’s debatable,” Mattie reminded him.

  “True.”

  “Hey!” Caroline snapped her fingers and her brother blinked. “Focus. She’s horrible to me. How could you like her?”

  Eliot’s eyes went wide. “How could I not? We have the same interests, the same taste!”

  “It’s the computer stuff,” Mattie told Caroline, feeling a touch relieved. It couldn’t possibly be serious if Eliot just liked Delia for her computer skills.

  “Of course it’s her computer skills!” Eliot rubbed one hand over his heart as if it were threatening to escape his chest. “I’m telling you, she’s perfect.”

  “She’s a perfect pain,” Caroline muttered.

  Mattie agreed. This was going to be a problem.

  Still there are worse reasons to like someone—falling for someone’s money or looks or what they can do for you being at the top of the list. But Eliot wasn’t thinking of anything like that. He fell for Delia’s skills and intelligence, which are excellent reasons to fall in love with someone.

  Except in this case. Because eventually Delia would use those skills and that intelligence in a never-ending quest for world domination. Then again, some people enjoy ambition in their spouses.

  The electronic bell rang and all the students began to push for the door, voices rising in an unintelligible rumble. Mattie threw his supplies into his book bag, and when he looked up, he spotted Delia pushing through the other students. She reached Eliot, and he grinned.

  “If you really want to learn how to do that, I’ll show you.” Delia flicked her eyes over Mattie and Caroline. “But only you,” she said, and brushed past them.

  Delia disappeared into the crowded hallway and Eliot heaved an enormous sigh. His smile was gummy. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  They were strong words, and Mattie would’ve been amazed except Eliot had used the same expression to describe his computer’s hard-drive upgrade.

  This will pass, Mattie thought, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. It has to.

  Behind Eliot, Caroline mimed vomiting and Mattie laughed.

  “What?” Eliot asked.

  “Nothing,” Mattie told him. Out in the hallway, the scent of strawberries had now joined the fresh baked bread and Mattie’s stomach growled. Lunch could not come soon enough. Caroline’s sweater rolled as Beezus turned in happy circles. Apparently, the rat agreed.

  “Hey! Hey, Mattie!” Carter shouldered a couple of seventh graders out of his way and headed toward them. There were red sweater marks on his face as if he’d been sleeping on his arm and his shirt was untucked. “Dad wants to see us,” Carter said.

  Mattie’s chest squeezed. “Are we in trouble?”

  “Aren’t we always?”

  “No, usually that’s just you.”

  Carter smiled bashfully. “Oh, shucks, Mattie, you say the nicest things.”

  Mattie turned to go with his brother. “I’ll see you guys later,” he said to the Spencers.

  “Good luck,” Caroline said.

  “Magnificent,” Eliot added.

  It would’ve been confusing if Eliot hadn’t still been staring after Delia. Actually, no, it was still confusing. Carter stared at Eliot like he had something growing out of his ear. “What’s magnificent?” Carter asked.

  “Long story,” Mattie told him. “Let’s go.”

  THE WINDOW-LINED HALLWAY THAT led to the headmaster’s office was brighter and cleaner than ever. Bars of sunlight streamed through the windows, turning the polished floorboards silvery and the polished wood trim glossy. Recent dusting even made the headmasters’ portraits look cheerful. Okay, fine, it didn’t, but I’m not sure anything could make Olga Higgins appear cheerful.

  Mattie kept his head down to avoid looking at her, but it didn’t really matter. The headmistress’s painted, squinty eyes bored holes into the back of his head.

  “I hate these things,” Carter said as they neared Headmaster Rooney’s office. It wasn’t exactly a shocking revelation. Carter always hated meeting with their dad. Mattie knew this because of the way his brother always scowled, and also because Carter always said so. “It’s like he just wants to hear himself talk,” his brother continued.

  Mattie had to admit Carter had a point. “Maybe this time it will be better?”

  “You’re such a Susie Sunshine, you know that—”

  “Carter! Mattie!” Headmaster Rooney came flying around the corner. He raced toward the boys with long strides, his red hair shimmering under the lights. “Good to see you boys! It’s been a while!”

  “Yeah, like since breakfast,” Carter said.

  “Exactly!” The headmaster was all smiles. “Your father is a genius!” He clapped one hand to his heart as if it were fluttering. “A genius!”

  “Oh, yeah?” Carter looked unconvinced. “Why’s that?”

  “One word for you.” The Rooster leaned close and Mattie could see even his nose hairs were red. “Students as publicity!”

  “That’s three words,” Carter said.

  “But one message!”

  Carter nodded like he understood and it made Headmaster Rooney smile even wider.

  “I don’t get it,” Mattie said.

  “Oh, you will! C’mon! C’mon!” The Rooster raced ahead of them, his shiny shoes slapping against the floorboards.

  Carter looked at Mattie. “Still think this is going to be better? There’s a ‘message.’”

  Mattie had to admit it did sound like the meeting wasn’t going to be better, and once he walked into the headmaster’s
office, he knew it wasn’t going to be better. Mr. Larimore was standing at the cluttered headmaster’s desk with employees crowded around him. Two of the employees were chewing their fingernails. One was swaying and muttering to himself, and one was shouting.

  I’ve never seen Dr. Hoo so mad, Mattie thought.

  “I’ve never been so mad!” Dr. Hoo shouted.

  “Now, now,” Mr. Larimore said. The short, round scientist actually looked tall next to Mattie’s dad. “Don’t be like that, Dr. Hoo. This is just a temporary setback.”

  Dr. Hoo stuck both fists in the pockets of his white lab coat. “No one appreciates me around here. I haven’t had a raise in”—Dr. Hoo stared at the ceiling as he thought—“forever.”

  “Dr. Hoo.” Mr. Larimore put one hand on Dr. Hoo’s shoulder. “Here at Larimore Corporation, we value you in ways that can’t be expressed with money.”

  Dr. Hoo’s mouth went thin as a paper cut.

  Mr. Larimore shuffled some black plastic boxes on his desk, and spotted Carter and Mattie standing in the doorway. “Boys! Glad you could make it!”

  “Did we have a choice?” Carter asked.

  “Oh, son.” Mr. Larimore smiled and shook his head as if Carter were an adorable puppy instead of an almost fourteen-year-old boy. “You always make me laugh.”

  Except Mr. Larimore wasn’t laughing. His eyes had gone glinty, and it made Carter grin.

  Mr. Larimore pointed to the last two empty seats. “Make yourselves comfortable. We’re almost finished.”

  Mattie suppressed a groan as Dr. Hoo stalked out the door. Mattie wished he could go with him. For grown-ups, “almost finished” could mean they were in fact almost finished, but it could also mean they were nowhere near finished and Mattie would have to sit there until he died. When it came to Mr. Larimore, the boys never knew which it would be.

  Mattie dropped into the closest chair. Surprisingly, Headmaster Rooney’s office still looked the same: heavy, dark furniture, lots of pictures of Headmaster Rooney hugging famous people, and, presumably, a closet still filled with coats that still hid a door that still led to a basement that still housed a cloning machine.

  Mattie swung his legs back and forth. Eliot was right. It was rather nice some things stayed the same. And Mattie tried to concentrate on that as he waited and waited until the other Larimore corporation employees left and Mr. Larimore finally turned back to his sons.

  “Now! Boys!” Mr. Larimore said with his toothiest grin. “I’ve called you in today so we can discuss the next step in Munchem’s evolution!”

  Mr. Larimore seemed to have forgotten he was in the headmaster’s office and not on a stage. Mattie had to resist covering his ears against his father’s bellowing.

  “We’re going to make the Larimore Corporation even better!” Mr. Larimore continued while Mattie sneaked a look at his brother. Carter’s face was carefully blank, but Mattie could see a single thought churning through his brother’s brain: What did Munchem have to do with making Larimore Corporation better?

  “So! With greatness in mind! I bring you…” Mr. Larimore held up a newspaper. The front page had a huge picture of Mr. Larimore and Rooney holding shovels and pretending to dig a hole. “Larimore Corporation giving back!”

  Headmaster Rooney clapped. “One message!”

  Mattie and Carter stared at the newspaper. Mattie blinked. He blinked again.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Mr. Larimore said.

  “I really hope not,” Carter whispered.

  “You’re thinking this is genius! This is brilliant!” Mr. Larimore’s eyes were bright, bright, bright. He rubbed his hands together. “This is my best idea yet, isn’t it?”

  “It’s great, Dad.” Out of the corner of his eye, Mattie saw Carter turn toward him and stare. Mattie forced his smile wider. Their dad was really trying, so Mattie figured he’d try too. “But, uh, what exactly is ‘Larimore Corporation giving back’?”

  “I’m so glad you asked, Mattie!” Mr. Larimore dropped into one of the headmaster’s plushy chairs and scooted it closer to his sons. Next to him, Headmaster Rooney vibrated with excitement. “You see, boys, Larimore Corporation has had a few, ah, unfortunate setbacks.”

  “What are setbacks?” Mattie asked.

  “Screwups,” Carter said.

  Mr. Larimore threw his oldest son a dark look. “Not what I would call them, but yes, screwups. There was a little issue with blue pizza dough and now the Aluminum Falcon isn’t performing to expectations. The public doesn’t think the Larimore Corporation is on top of its game—that’s where the new publicity plan will come into play. People love adorable children, cats doing funny things, and carbs.” Mr. Larimore paused, staring into the distance. His mustache twitched. “Maybe I should consider having a cat ride the Aluminum Falcon next,” he muttered.

  Carter rolled his eyes. “I still don’t get how this is going to help anyone.”

  Mr. Larimore settled both hands on top of his round belly. “I’ve invested heavily into Munchem—I mean, that new ventilation system was not cheap, let me tell you—and that ballroom I turned into a gym! Do you know how much better it looks now? Do you know how expensive that was?”

  Mattie didn’t. None of the students was allowed in the ballroom turned into a gym because the gym had recently been turned into a laboratory for the scientists. “Actually,” Mattie said, “it’s off-limits—”

  But Mr. Larimore didn’t stop: “I knew taking over Munchem would be expensive. I also knew Munchem could get me something money can’t buy.”

  “What’s that?” Mattie asked.

  “Good publicity.” Mr. Larimore steepled his fingers and studied the black plastic boxes on his desk. Now that Mattie was closer, he could see they weren’t boxes at all. They were security cameras. What was his dad doing with them?

  “You see, boys,” Mr. Larimore continued, “Larimore Corporation giving back is all about the company making improvements on the school and the students doing good works for the community.”

  “And letting everyone know you do them,” Carter added, swiping the newspaper off Rooney’s desk to study the picture.

  “Precisely!” Mr. Larimore grinned and grinned. “If you don’t tell everyone what a good person you are, how will they know? In this case, if we don’t tell everyone how much Larimore Corporation is doing for children, how will they know?”

  Suspicion, small and hard and round, rolled through Mattie’s stomach. “So how is it going to work?”

  “Well,” Mr. Larimore said, patting his shiny, bald head, “in this case, we’re going to do a photo shoot with Ambassador Theodore Wade—he’s said some unfortunate things about the company and we’re going to show him what the Larimore Corporation is truly capable of.”

  “By doing what?” Mattie asked. “Standing around and smiling gratefully for the camera?”

  Mr. Larimore beamed. “Now you’re getting it!”

  Actually, Mattie wasn’t so sure he was. “And the security cameras?”

  “Oh. Those.” Mr. Larimore frowned, flicking the closest security camera with a finger. “Dr. Shelley is going to pull all the cameras so we can do an upgrade. Can’t be too careful. Did you know hackers can use our own cameras to spy on us? She told me all about it.”

  Mattie paused, thinking about Eliot, and Eliot’s computer, Marilyn, and how he could absolutely believe Eliot would use Marilyn to spy on someone. “No,” he said at last. “I didn’t.”

  “It’s true,” Mr. Larimore said, snatching the newspaper back from Carter. “Shelley’s right: our competition will stop at nothing to steal our technology. That’s what happens when you’re the best. I had to protect us. First, we’ll do the perimeter cameras. Then we’ll do the cameras at the gym. She has a plan.”

  “Yippee for Professor Shelley,” Carter muttered, sliding lower in his chair.

  Mr. Larimore’s mustache twitched as he glared at his son. “Anyway, I’m going to need both of you to help me. I need you to be e
xcited! Thrilled! About this new opportunity!”

  Mattie thought their dad sounded thrilled enough for all of them, and judging by Carter’s expression, his brother agreed. Mr. Larimore sat back, eyes on the Rooster, who was smiling again.

  “This is my favorite part of business,” Mr. Larimore told the headmaster. “I love thinking outside the box.”

  “But what if it doesn’t work?” Mattie asked.

  “Oh.” Mr. Larimore took a security camera and spun it against the desktop. “I’m prepared for that. Not all plans work out. The important thing is to know when to quit.”

  “Which means?” Carter asked.

  “Larimore Corporation will withdraw funding and Munchem will close.”

  MUNCHEM WOULD CLOSE? IT WAS not a pleasant discovery, and every time Mattie thought of it, his stomach squeezed. Mattie sat in his chair for a long moment.

  I’m going to have to save the school, he thought. Again.

  “Great, isn’t it?” Headmaster Rooney swung his legs back and forth, his grin blank as ever.

  “Now,” Mr. Larimore said, sweeping up from his chair. “I’m going to need your help. Tell all your little friends how exciting it is to meet Ambassador Wade. We want everyone thrilled at the opportunity!”

  “I can’t tell anyone.” His brother crossed his arms and looked at their dad. “I don’t have any friends,” he lied.

  Mr. Larimore’s mustache twitched twice. “With an attitude like yours, I believe it.”

  Carter scowled. Mr. Larimore scowled. Mattie wilted. His mom and dad always believed the worst about Carter. They didn’t know him like Mattie knew him. Of course, that also meant they didn’t know about the time Carter tied Mattie up and hung from his closet rod. It had been a very long and boring four hours.

  Mr. Larimore’s phone rang and he turned to answer it. Mattie waited for a moment, listening to his dad shout at whoever was on the other end. Words like “idiot” and “moron” and “he did what?” were being thrown around.

  Mattie sighed. It sounded like Mr. Larimore was going to go on for a while.

  “C’mon,” Carter muttered, tugging Mattie toward the door. For several moments, the boys walked along in silence, but when they neared the cafeteria, Mattie couldn’t be silent any longer.