by Kurt Dinan
“Not that has your access to the building and lockers—”
“Max—”
“Or who I saw send a text minutes before Hale showed up.”
“This is crazy.”
“Maybe, but what really seals it is the picture of me on the football field. You were the only person who knew we’d be there that night. If you’re right and it was one of the other kids in the building who set us up, did they also just happen to know we’d be at the football field? That’s too big of a coincidence.”
“I’m not sure where you came up with this, but—”
“You’d like everyone to believe you’re the naive preacher’s daughter, but you’re not. Not by a mile. You’re probably the smartest of all of us. I’m right about this. Just admit it.”
Ellie goes quiet, staring at some place far behind me. I prepare myself for more arguing, but then her body sags like warm wax.
“I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did. That was never my plan,” she says. “I didn’t think anyone would ever find out.”
Oh God, I was right. It was one thing to think Ellie set us up. It’s another thing entirely to hear her admit it. Every part of me hoped she’d be able to prove me wrong, to offer up an alternative that made sense. But no.
I blink away the tears forming.
“Why did you do it?”
Ellie sighs, saying, “At first, it was like I said—I wanted the Chaos Club to pay for what they did to me last year. And to do that, I needed a team. Obviously I picked the right people too. But eventually, it became more fun than anything. I wasn’t even mad at the Chaos Club after a while, even if I acted like it. I just wanted to see if we could pull it off, and we did.”
“By using us.”
“We all used each other, Max. Don’t try to tell me we didn’t all have a great time. The five of us made a great team. Look at what we achieved.”
“By lying to us.”
“And I’m sorry about that. I really am. But just for a second, try to see the big picture—everything worked out for the best. I’m not just talking the Chaos Club. I’m talking about everyone. We’re all better for what’s happened this year. And somehow we even got rid of Stranko. None of that would’ve happened if I hadn’t done what I did.”
Now it’s my turn to be quiet. Everything she’s saying makes sense in a slanted, blurry way. If she keeps talking like this, I’ll cave.
“Who took the picture of us at the football field?” I say.
“Well, like Dave said, you can learn how to do anything on H8box.”
“And you doughed our lockers too?”
“Max, why are you getting caught up in the details? Yes, I did it, okay? Is that what you want me to say? But you were talking about giving up. And it worked. You stayed with it, and we accomplished our goal. The specifics don’t matter.”
“Don’t matter? I got arrested, Ellie. And suspended. My parents were ready to disown me!”
“That wasn’t the plan. I just wanted to keep you in the game. It was the worst night of my life when I found out what the Chaos Club did to you.”
“What did you think would happen?”
“Honestly? That they’d threaten you or pull a different prank—something that would get you pissed and focused again. I never imagined they’d set you up like that.”
“So what about Watson? He basically got fired over this. Not to mention we destroyed the Chaos Club, and they didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
“You mean besides the scoreboard prank last year? And how they got you arrested?”
“No, Ellie, you got me arrested. Not them.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“You led me on,” I say.
“No, that’s not fair. I may have lied to get everything started, but you can’t ever say I led you on. I made it clear the first time we came here that this was about destroying the Chaos Club, not about us being together. That just ended up being a bonus.”
Um.
“A bonus?”
“Yes, silly. Why do you think I had us meet here today? When we came here the first time, I told you maybe when the year was over we could go out. Well, what was a maybe is now a definitely. It was never my plan, but I like you now, Max. As in like-like you.”
Then Ellie kisses me, and the world collapses in on itself. Her lips are soft and warm and perfect, and I’m so shocked, so stunned, I don’t immediately kiss her back. This isn’t like the quick “for luck” kiss she gave me before. This is a universe destroyer. Then her fingers begin tracing the back of my neck up into my hair, and oh God, there’s her tongue on mine. And now I’m kissing her back with my hands on her hips, and she’s not stopping me. We fall and become entwined on the radar dish, our mouths together, our hands on each other. The hot summer sun overhead could supernova right now and I wouldn’t care. Because Ellie’s right. Any lies she may have told led us to this perfect moment. I can leave here with her, the two of us a couple, and return to Asheville and my friends and not tell anyone what I know. Because, man, I’ve wanted this for so long, and Ellie’s mouth is amazing, and her hands are moving to all the right places.
I mean, I could do all that, right? Not tell the other three what I know? Isn’t it only a betrayal if someone gets hurt? I mean, yeah, it’ll be hard knowing Ellie set up Wheeler, Malone, and Adleta, but doesn’t the mastermind have to carry the heaviest weight? And isn’t your crew only your crew as long as there’s a job to pull?
Aren’t they?
Please?
Shit.
I pull away, and Ellie leans farther in. If she gets her mouth on mine again, I’m a goner. So I back safely out of the kissing zone and hold out a hand to stop her from advancing.
“I’m leaving,” I say.
“Max,” she says, taking my arm. “Everything’s fine. It all worked out for every one of us. If the phrase ‘the end justifies the means’ was ever fitting, it’s here. Yes, bad things happened, but we can forget about that and move on—together. The two of us.”
Ellie sounds sincere, but I can’t be sure if she really is. She’s that good of an actress. That’s the problem with liars—you never know if what you’re hearing is the truth.
“Come on, Max, admit it. You’ve had more fun this year than you’ve ever had, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then why end it?” she says. “Who cares how we got started? What matters is what we became. We’re an amazing team. What just happened proves it. And imagine what the five of us can achieve next year…and the fun you and I can have this summer.”
I see it all clearly now—Ellie Wick is the devil.
I stand up and step toward the ladder.
“So let me get this straight,” she says, standing too. “We had an awesome year, and I’m telling you I want us to be together, but you’re turning me down?”
“I can’t trust you.”
It’s a few seconds before Ellie says anything. “Have you told the others yet?”
“No, but they deserve to know.”
“They’ll hate me.”
“Maybe.”
Ellie’s eyes go slowly cold. It’s a disturbing, frightening shift. I swear the temperature drops twenty degrees.
“I can’t just let you ruin my life like that,” she says. “If you go through with it, then you’re my mortal enemy, Maxwell Cobb. Isn’t that what would happen in one of your little heist films? The crew leader kicks someone out and that person comes back for revenge?”
If she’s trying to shrink my balls, she’s succeeded.
“You don’t need to do that,” I say.
“No, I don’t. But think of the fun I can have. Or”—and she puts on a voice that could make cartoon birds flock to her—“you can forget everything and we can rule the school next year as a couple. It’s up t
o you.”
I understand now this was all a game to her. She’s even used that very word. Was she ever really as tortured by the Chaos Club’s prank on her dad as she said or was that just a convenient excuse to get us to play her game? I’ll probably never know. Heist victims are always left with unanswered questions. But if I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that I have the strength to handle whatever Ellie can throw at me.
“I can’t have a supervillain for a girlfriend,” I say.
“Oh, Max, you don’t know the meaning of supervillain yet.”
I start down the ladder, feeling her eyes on me.
“I can’t wait to hear you try to sell this story to people,” she says. “They’re going to put you in a mental hospital.”
“It doesn’t matter, Ellie. The right people will believe me.”
At the base of the tower, I wipe the rust off my hands.
“This is your last chance, Max,” Ellie says. “Summer fun with me or complete chaos. It’s up to you.”
But there’s no real choice here.
There never was.
Someone else might get scared and give in, but not me. Not anymore. Whatever I’m giving up with Ellie is nothing compared to what I’ve gained. With my crew on my side, nothing can touch me. Besides, every mastermind knows Heist Rule #25: Know when to walk away.
Before starting down the hill, I return Ellie’s smile.
“Game on.”
Acknowledgments
Writing a novel is a lot more collaborative than I ever knew. I’m forever thankful to the following people for their help and support:
First and foremost, thanks to my wonderful, supportive, and brilliant wife, Jen, who started me on this adventure by not-so-subtly convincing me to attend my first writing conference by saying, “Oh, you are going.” She’s not only my biggest champion and best friend, but she also gave me the four most wonderful reasons to exist: Brody, Sam, Charlie, and Murphy. I love you all.
My brother-in-arms John Mantooth deserves a warehouse of craft beer for reading all eight drafts and talking me off the ledge hundreds of times. Early readers Sam W. Anderson, Kim Despins, Daryl Gregory, Josh Penzone, and Kimberly Gabriel (Your turn’s next!) helped get this book out of the trenches with their notes and friendship.
Kerry Sparks is a true badass who gave me the chance no one else would. If you look up literary superagent in the dictionary, there’s a picture of Kerry carrying all her writers on her back while she stands on a pile of bloodied and beaten foes foolish enough to get in her way.
Editor extraordinaire Aubrey Poole had the razor-sharp insight and enthusiasm I needed to make this book as good as it could possibly be. I’m thankful to her and the rest of the Sourcebooks team for their incredible support and hospitality.
Writers Josh Berk, Michael Cook, John Langan, Petra Miller, John Rector, Ian Rogers, Lance Rubin, Brett Savory, Paul Tremblay, Fred Venturini, and Erik Williams probably aren’t aware of how helpful and motivating they’ve been, but hopefully, now they know. Andrew Smith graciously gave me a kick in the ass precisely when I needed it. Thanks to Mac McCaughan of Superchunk for permission to use his lyrics.
My mom and dad let me read and watch whatever I wanted while growing up, which is questionable parenting at best, but forever appreciated. My brothers, Eric, Brent, and Jay, were always better at sports than I was, so this novel is probably just a thinly masked attempt at showing off in the only way I can.
On occasion, I had to turn to the experts for their brilliance: Pat George is a grammar goddess; Kristi Stephens is a math nerd; Halie Limpert is a lacrosse beast; Matt MacNish is a query letter master; Aaron Roberts is a design guru; Whitney Ballentine is a photography wizard; and Amanda and Julie are Panera rock stars for sneaking me free coffee. Extra special thanks to Barbara and John Miller, who, among a million other things, graciously watched the kids when I needed extra writing time.
My students over the last twenty-one years have given me plenty of inspiration, laughs, and headaches. I expect a three-page review of this novel on my desk by Monday.
And finally, a special thanks to my oldest brother, Eric, who passed away before this was published. If he hadn’t let me read his books and listen to his albums when I was growing up, this novel wouldn’t exist. He never got a chance to read this, but I’d like to think he would’ve gotten a kick out of it.
About the Author
©Whitney Ballentine
Kurt Dinan has taught high school English for more than twenty-one years, and while he’s never pulled any of the pranks detailed in this novel, he was once almost arrested in college for blizzarding the campus with fliers promoting a fake concert. He lives and works in the suburbs of Cincinnati with his wife and his four children, whom he affectionately refers to as “the Crime Spree.” Don’t Get Caught is his first novel.
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