To Catch a Cheat

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To Catch a Cheat Page 12

by Varian Johnson


  But that was a year ago…. Before the Student Council elections.

  “We need your help,” Lincoln began.

  “You mean, like how you helped me during the election fiasco?” he asked. “No thanks.”

  Lincoln glanced at Serena, then started again. “The hard drive to the school security system was stolen a little over a week ago,” he said. “Unfortunately, the school budget doesn’t allow for a replacement.”

  “Why don’t you get Gaby and the Student Council to buy one? They’ve already taken all the money from the Gamer Club.”

  Serena cleared her throat. “As I understand it, that’s only because you didn’t have enough members to constitute a real student organization.”

  Keith turned to Serena. “And who are you?”

  “Serena Bianchi. Student Honor Board member. We’re investigating the break-in and —”

  “I don’t care,” he said. “Kelsey’s got me working like a grunt, all because my dad won’t give him any more money. You think I’m going to do something to make his life easier? Or yours?”

  Serena leaned into the table. “With one small donation, you could be back in study hall, playing games on your phone like everyone else.”

  “There’s no way my dad would ever agree to another contribution, not after all the money he … donated to Dr. Kelsey,” Keith said.

  Serena took a breath and reminded herself that what she was doing wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t breaking the rules. She was encouraging a fellow student to support the school. His motives didn’t matter, and as long as hers were focused on justice, it was okay.

  “A hard drive, while expensive, is certainly within your personal price range,” she said.

  He took another bite of his candy bar. “Are we finished here?”

  “Think about it this way,” Serena said. “There has to be one other person you dislike more than Dr. Kelsey. Or Gaby de la Cruz.” She pulled out her keys and jingled them against the table. “Isn’t there a reason they call it the Great Greene Heist?”

  Keith’s eyebrows twitched. “Jackson?”

  “That’s why we need the system. We want to catch him in the act of breaking into the school. We think he’s trying to steal a test.”

  Keith wrapped his candy bar and placed it on the table. “Okay, Serena Bianchi. You’ve got my attention.”

  As Victor paused a few steps away from Kayla Hall’s bedroom on Monday evening, he sniffed his clothes. He’d spent the afternoon playing chess at the nursing home, so he’d coated himself in his father’s cologne to mask the stench of Bengay and disinfectant. He hated playing with the old-timers — they took too long to make a move and always wanted to talk about the “good old days” — but at least they provided better competition than the idiots he played against online.

  Victor had tried to explain to the Chess Team that by abandoning Jackson’s crew during the Great Greene Heist, he had played the odds. Made the correct, strategic move. Did what was best for the team. Unfortunately, no one else saw it that way. Although he wasn’t officially kicked off the Chess Team, they kept rescheduling the meetings and forgetting to tell him about the new dates. And in the few meetings he did make, he spent most of the time sitting by himself while his “friends” opted to practice with snot-nosed sixth graders rather than him. Finally, he quit the team. Unlike his old teammates, the senior citizens didn’t care that he turned on Jackson Greene. They just wanted to play chess … and talk.

  Victor knocked on Kayla’s open door, then entered her room. “Your mother let me in.”

  “I know.” She nodded toward one of the monitors on her desk. The screen was split into four quadrants — video feeds of her porch, front yard, backyard, and the sidewalk.

  “Is it even legal to record people walking on the sidewalk?”

  “You’re one to talk,” Kayla said as she wrinkled her nose. Whatever cologne or deodorant he was wearing smelled overbearingly sweet — like cake doughnuts coated with sugar and butter and honey.

  “Don’t get too used to that system,” Victor said, settling into a chair. “Come next week, I’ll need all of that equipment back. I don’t want to leave any loose ends.”

  “So you’re going to just throw it away?” She stopped typing to glance at the NVR on her desk. “This system is practically brand-new.”

  “With all the cash I’m giving you, you can buy a new system if you want.” He scooted his chair closer, and Kayla covered her nose. “But forget about that. I talked to Jackson and Charlie this morning. They’re going to steal the test.”

  “Do you want me to try to catch them on video again?”

  “Of course. That’s the whole point of the Great Greene Payback,” Victor said as he reached into his khakis, pulled out a pocket watch, and checked the time.

  The watch was black and shiny and hipster-fake. Kayla stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Really, who even used a pocket watch anymore? If he was going to hassle with taking something out of his pocket whenever he wanted to check the time, he might as well use his phone.

  Function over form. Some guys just didn’t understand.

  “Well, their electrical switch is toast,” Kayla said. “They won’t be able to turn off the cameras remotely. I suppose one of them could run through the hallways like they did last time, though we could reprogram the oscillating cameras to limit that. I also upgraded both our system and the security cameras with every potential virus patch. If Megan tries to shut us down again, we’ll be ready.”

  “Awesome,” he said. “Best case, we catch Jackson in the act of stealing the test. Worst case, we turn in the doctored video.” He fumbled with his watch for a second before snapping it closed. “Either way, come the end of the week, Jackson Greene truly will be infamous.”

  On Tuesday afternoon, a few minutes after the final bell rang, Lynne Thurber leaned against the wall in the atrium. She was supposed to be in the gym, warming up for basketball practice, but she had a favor to pay out first.

  She pushed herself off the wall as soon as the main office door swung open. Dr. Kelsey stepped into the atrium, right when Jackson said he would.

  “Dr. Kelsey, do you have a few moments?” she asked, rushing to catch up with him. “I wanted to talk to you about Thursday’s game against Riggins.”

  He almost seemed to speed up. “Make it quick, Ms. Thurber.”

  She was glad she had long legs — it took everything she had to keep up with him. “I wanted to know if you were coming to see us play. We could use all the support we can get.”

  “I’m sure you girls will do fine.”

  “This is our toughest matchup of the year. Riggins has only lost one game, and that was because half of their team was sick with the flu,” she said. “They’re all that stand between us and the top seed in the play-offs.”

  “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?” He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his nose. “You’re playing at Riggins while the boys are playing here, correct? As you know, I always attend the home games.”

  The boys’ home games, Lynne wanted to say. “Our game might end up getting a lot of attention,” Lynne said. “I’m friends with one of the girls from their team, and she says that a reporter from FOX28 might be there. Their coach has already invited Dr. Accord and the school board —”

  “The superintendent is planning to attend your game?”

  Lynne reminded herself to look nonchalant. “Yeah, I think so. My friend said they’re giving him a tour of their gym. I think they’ve asked for new lockers — something about trying to use up some surplus funding.” She shook her head. “Can you believe it? We might actually get on TV! We’ll be famous.”

  Dr. Kelsey rounded the corner toward the security room. When he had contacted the superintendent last week about a replacement hard drive for the security system, all he had received was a tongue-lashing about the damaged floors. Of course, considering that Katie Accord had transferred from Maplewood to Riggins last summer, Dr. Kelsey shouldn’t have be
en surprised that the superintendent had found extra room in his budget for his daughter’s school.

  Dr. Kelsey knocked on the security room’s door. “Are you positive that Dr. Accord will be there?” he asked.

  Lynne shrugged. “You could ask Coach Rainey. She’d probably know for sure what’s happening.”

  He shook his head. It would be like Coach Rainey to keep this information from him. She had never gotten over him slashing her budget last year. He had even stopped asking her out — he figured he’d try again once the season ended.

  Mr. James opened the door. “Hey, Dr. Kelsey.” His smile widened once he noticed Lynne.

  “Hi, Mr. James,” Lynne said. “We’ve got an away game on Thursday. You’ll see us off, right?”

  He popped a sunflower seed into his mouth. “See you in the parking lot.”

  Lynne cocked her head. “You know, you should come to the game too, Mr. James. It’ll be the best one of the year. Much better than —”

  “Mr. James will need to remain at school, I’m afraid, but you can tell Coach Rainey that I’d be happy to attend,” Dr. Kelsey said. He looked past her, and Lynne turned around to see Keith Sinclair and Serena Bianchi walking toward them. “If that’s all, Ms. Thurber …” He gave her a small nudge. “See you on Thursday.”

  Bradley was the first person at the shed on Tuesday afternoon. He unlocked the door, flipped the light switch that Hashemi had reluctantly repaired, and got to work mixing paints, inks, and powders. Every few minutes, he would use the small tabletop ultraviolet lamp to check the legibility of the ink. The ink had to be strong enough to be read under faint UV light, but weak enough to be invisible in regular lighting. And, of course, it had to be completely formulated in two days.

  Bradley’s face and hands were covered in ink by the time Jackson and Charlie entered the shed an hour later. “You look like you got into a fight with a highlighter,” Jackson said.

  Bradley rubbed his forehead, getting even more fluorescent paint on his face. “This would be a lot easier with Megan’s help.”

  “You know how Hash gets under pressure. We need her to work with him on the tablets.” Jackson sat beside Bradley while Charlie settled down by the bundles of PVC pipe stacked against the wall. “Anyway, I thought all the Art Geeks mixed their own paint.”

  “Mr. Jonas won’t let us anymore. Last time Lizzie tried, they had to fumigate the art room.”

  Jackson scooted his chair a little farther from the table. “Have you tried the ink with the watches?” he asked.

  Bradley turned off the lamp, then pulled a watch from a nearby box. He pressed a button on the side, allowing a tiny ray of UV light to beam out of the watch casing. He held it close to the paper, and the ink lit up. “They’ll have to write very lightly on their skin, but it should work.”

  “And how long will the ink last?”

  “Two hours, I think.” Bradley nodded toward a container of black ink. “Just about as long as disappearing ink lasts by itself.”

  “Good job,” Jackson said. He took the watch from Bradley. “I can’t believe Hash finally got something out of beta. On time.”

  “Technically, Megan took over working on the watches so Hashemi could finish the tablets.”

  Jackson dropped the watch back in the box, then noticed the UV dust clinging to his hand.

  “Sorry,” Bradley said. “That powder gets everywhere.”

  Jackson rubbed a few of the powder granules between his fingers. Then he reached over and turned on the lamp. The UV powder went from white to lime green.

  “Can you grind this powder up any more?” Jackson asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Good. The finer the better,” Jackson said. “Let me know if you run into any issues.” He crossed the room and knelt beside Charlie. “Do me a favor. When you get a chance, can you text —”

  “Already done,” Charlie said as he squinted at Hashemi’s scrawled schematics for the two PVC stands. “She’s on her way. So are Rob and Thom.”

  Jackson picked up a pipe. “I wonder how many times Hash designed these stands.”

  “He’d probably still be at it if the tablets didn’t need more of his attention,” Charlie said. “You two are a lot alike, you know. You’re both insane planners.”

  “At least my projects get out of beta.”

  “And how’s that plan to kiss Gaby coming along?”

  Jackson grabbed a tape measure. “We are not having this conversation.”

  “Believe me, I don’t want details. It’s kind of gross, actually. I’ve smelled her breath in the morning.”

  “Charlie …”

  “You know I’m making a killing by betting against you.”

  “Does everyone at school know that I haven’t kissed Gaby yet?”

  “No one but the crew. And the Environmental Action Team. And a few of the Herald reporters. And —”

  “Charlie!”

  He laughed. “All kidding aside, you really are a good planner.” He looked at the PVC pipe in his hand. “Much better than me.”

  “You’re good at it too. We came up with this plan together, remember?”

  “I’m okay at it. And I’m getting better. But you’re the best.” He looked toward Bradley. “They deserve the best.”

  Jackson nodded a few times. “Thanks. We make a good team.” Then he grinned. “Enough of the mushy stuff. Let’s get to work.”

  Charlie read the schematics while Jackson cut the pieces for the two tripod bases for the tablet stands. They had just completed the first one when Rob and Thom entered the shed. “You’re late,” Jackson said.

  “Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” Rob replied. “What do you need us to do?”

  “You mean, other than leave?” Jackson rose so he was eye level with Rob. “Grab a couple of the UV watches and some ink from Bradley. You need to practice writing lightly on your hand. It has to be light enough to —”

  Jackson stopped as the shed door flung open. Megan ran to the group. “Guys. We have … a problem,” she said between ragged breaths.

  “Are you okay?” Jackson asked. “You sound like you ran all the way here.”

  “I did,” she said. “It’s about … the security … system.”

  Jackson eyed Rob and Thom. “Can this wait?”

  She shook her head and sucked in a deep breath. “Can’t. Running out … of time….”

  “Catch your breath,” Jackson said. “Charlie, grab her a stool.”

  Rob crossed his arms. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Might as well tell them about the Mutara Nebula,” Charlie said as he returned with a stool. “Victor and Kayla will find out when they try to log into the system.”

  “Okay.” Jackson loosened his tie. “Keith Sinclair bought a new hard drive for the NVR.”

  “What? And you knew about this?” Rob asked.

  “Knew about it?” Charlie grinned. “We planned it.”

  “It wasn’t just bad luck that Serena saw us in the garden yesterday morning,” Jackson said. “Serena’s sister has been dropping her off early all year. We knew she was going to be passing by at that exact moment. We wanted to give her a little motivation to make sure she reached out to Keith about the hard drive.”

  Rob’s brow furrowed. “You’re telling me that you wanted the school to have a working security system?”

  “No, but we didn’t have much choice,” Jackson said. “We thought it would be best if everyone operated on a level playing field.”

  “You’re trying to trick us,” Thom said.

  “No, I’m evening the odds,” Jackson said. “Now that the hard drive is being replaced, Mr. James and Dr. Kelsey will be able to use the NVR again. They can monitor everything from anywhere. So either we all avoid the cameras, or we all get caught.” He turned to Megan. “Unless you’ve heard something new.”

  “No. Keith bought the hard drive, all right,” she said, her breath now under control. “I called the security
company again to verify it. The problem is, they’re going to install it tomorrow morning. The appointment’s during first period.”

  “What?” Jackson glanced at the PVC tripod base. “When we checked with the security company, they said the earliest they could be there was Thursday. We don’t have enough time to finish the frames and sneak them in before the cameras go live tomorrow.”

  “Keith must have paid extra to have them move up the installation date,” she said. “I talked to a few friends. He’s not working for Kelsey anymore — he’s already been moved back to study hall.”

  “Charlie, is there any way …”

  Charlie was already shaking his head. “Even if we could get these frames finished today, there’s no way to smuggle them in before first period. The Environmental Action Team won’t be ready.”

  “I know Samuel’s already back at college,” Megan said. “But maybe we could cancel the school’s installation appointment and Ray could pretend to —”

  “There’s no way we could afford an NVR hard drive, much less forge the security documents for him to fake being a technician.” Jackson spun his pencil between his fingers. “We’ve got to sneak in tomorrow morning. It’s then or not at all.”

  “Yeah, and ‘not at all’ isn’t really an option.” Charlie leaned against the table. “But I think we can make it work.”

  “Okay, you tell Gaby. I’ll tell the others,” Jackson said. “And look on the bright side, guys. Most plans have a major speed bump or two. We’re just getting ours out of the way now.”

  The next morning, Jackson and Gaby held hands as they trailed behind the rest of Gang Greene on their way from the picnic tables to the school. Jackson had wanted to spend some alone time with her; her birthday was on Monday, and he was still hoping to get some ideas on how to upgrade her gift. But between planning for Operation To Catch a Cheat (as Charlie called it) and studying for Mrs. Clark’s exam, he hadn’t even had time to drop her an email, much less have a real conversation.

 

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