Secret of the Sevens

by Lynn Lindquist

  Emily speaks up. “I think we should expand Singer and get some kids off that waiting list … beginning with Jose’s brother.”

  “And cover Kollin’s medical bills,” Jose says.

  A breathy Kollin adds, “And help Emily.”

  “Right,” Delaney finishes for him. “So she can go to college and make a better life for herself and her daughter.”

  We all nod.

  “Well, how about for you two?” Boyle focuses on Laney and me. “Do you have a greatest desire we should consider?”

  “I’m good,” I say. “I think Mr. Singer would want his Sevens’ money spent in service to others. You know, with him being all into that virtues crap and stuff.”

  Laney leans away from me. “Talan Michaels,” she says, “who knew that all this time, deep down, you were a brainiac do-gooder?” Before I can argue, she raises her hand. “I did.”

  Headmaster Boyle straightens up and moves toward the door. “That’s very noble of you all. But technically, Katherine and I are also trustees, and we’ve decided that all five of you will be receiving generous scholarships as well as money for expenses.” He turns as he opens the door. “Because we knew William Singer better than anyone. And we’re quite certain that’s exactly how he’d want his Sevens’ money spent.” Boyle slaps my back before walking out.

  For the first time ever, I imagine what college would be like. Where should I go? What the heck do I want to be?

  Laney pulls me aside and flashes me a tired grin. She snuggles into me, and I wrap my arm around her. Her hand travels to my chest, stopping directly over the scar on my heart. She slowly lifts her eyes to mine and says, “All this time, you were wrong, Michaels … the S was for Sevens.”

  I kiss her smile with my own and whisper in her ear, “Don’t you mean Sherlock?”

  Acknowledgments

  First, to my sons Tyler and Austin (aka Wild Thing 1 and Wild Thing 2): you are the loves of my life. Thank you for your outrageous escapades and crazy antics, which provided me with material for this book (and a million more). Now KNOCK IT OFF FOR GOD’S SAKE, YOU’RE KILLING ME.

  Thanks to my cyber-sister and writing ally, the phenomenally talented Genevieve Wilson. Please never show anyone my crappy first stories, and I won’t show them your snarky emails.

  Thanks to my agent, Katherine Boyle, who taught me like a mentor and treated me like a friend.

  Thanks to the top-notch team at Flux: Editor Extraordinaire Brian Farrey-Latz, Sandy Whoisamazing Sullivan, and Mallory “You’re not bothering me” Hayes.

  Thanks to talented critique partners who helped with various chapters of the Sevens: Karla Gomez, Helene Dunbar, Dawn Alexander, and Alexandra O’Connor.

  What would I be without my young YA readers? Especially the amazingly funny and cool Jenny Manzo, who’s read every cruddy story I ever wrote and swore it was wonderful. Thanks also to Dom Guzaldo, Mallory Hayes Stoffregen, Julia Theisen, and my sweet goddaughter Jillian Manzo (you rock).

  Thanks to legal eagle Tony Schrank, for sharing his time and expertise to help me work out my (deed of) trust issues.

  Thank you to Frank Manzo, a walking Wikipedia of useful facts, for sharing your vast knowledge of everything from philanthropic boarding schools funded by corporate entities to board room etiquette. (And he makes the best beer, too.)

  Thanks to Heather Foy, for making me laugh though the humiliation also known as my author headshot.

  Special thanks to Scott Ahrens, Director of Residential Living at Mooseheart School and Child City, who generously shared facts and stories about the school he is clearly devoted to. Your passion for the kids at Mooseheart inspired the setting and characters for The Sevens. We owe a debt to you and all educators and administrators who dedicate themselves to lifting our kids up.

  And lastly, I’d like to thank my friends and family who helped me overcome the difficult year when the Sevens was being pitched and published. I’d never have made it into the lifeboat without you. Much love to my handholders: DJ and Scott Susta, Jodi and Joe Stelmachowski, Frank and Margo Manzo, Mark and Marylou Manzo, Dawn and Jim Schrank, Danette and Mike Moffatt, Carol and John Kirk, Kristy DeSanti, Cindy Prost, Leanna Wahlen, Pam (and Mike) Van Treeck, Helen Zagoren, Mark Claypool (for your website input and generous heart), Laurie Christensen, the Karger clan, Lorene (and Brian) Coffey, and the Dominguez Family. You’ll never know how much your kindness meant to me. Which is why I’m telling you in my acknowledgements now…

  And finally, thanks to (insert your name here if I missed you. I’m so sorry. You know my memory is crap. I promise to add you on the reprint).

  © Heather Foy Photography

  About the Author

  Lynn Lindquist lives in a suburb of Chicago with two overly social sons and a mutt named Slugger, who wisely hides under the bed most days. The hordes of teen­agers that regularly frequent her house (think Panama City Beach during Spring Break) provide fodder for her young adult novels and growing anxiety disorder. Ever since her sons broke the Guinness Record for Largest-Rager-Thrown-While-aParent-Was-Out-for-the-Night, she prefers spending her free time at home entertaining friends, cooking, reading, and writing. Thankfully, her favorite things in life are her sons, words, and kids, so she wouldn’t have it any other way.