Tuesday, May 7

  YMPA Halls

  Mission: Report Back The Information

  Status: N/A (Forgot to Check)

  I stepped out into the hall, heading toward the bathroom—even though I completely forgot to sign out. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but honestly, time feels like the least important thing when your brain is still trying to process the wild nonsense Jamal and Maddie are planning.

  They’re literally trying to crash the first game of the season.

  Well… technically the tryout game. So it’s not the actual first game.

  But whatever—it’s still the first big one, and apparently their master plan is to ruin it and then use the chaos to pin everything on me.

  They had to be the moles. They just had to.

  Now that Principal Renner is starting to breathe suspicion in Jamal’s direction, they’re scrambling to throw everything back onto me.

  This is the most obvious, Dora-the-Explorer, map-singing, point-at-the-clue-with-your-whole-hand kind of evidence that someone is the mole.

  I yanked my phone out. 6:23. Good. Enough time to panic-text instead of risk speaking out loud. You never know which shadow contains a spy… or worse, some nosy opportunist hoping to make a name for themselves as “that one kid who exposed the mole.”

  Now, I know what you’re probably thinking:

  Why would they even let me walk around if they think I’m the mole?

  Well, I’m still technically on the official investigation. And, in my opinion, I’ve been giving solid evidence. It’s just that the whole school doesn’t know that. As far as everyone else is concerned, I’m still Mole-boy.

  But hopefully that rumor is starting to die down. Hopefully.

  I typed out the whole situation in the group chat. The first reply came from Mari.

  “Thought so.”

  I could practically feel the smirk through the screen.

  Tisiah responded next.

  “But that kinda proves he didn’t see you guys. And explains why he coughed up that weird story. He’s still kinda innocent.”

  All of us texted at the same time:

  “How??”

  Mari replied instantly.

  “Think about it. Jamal’s actually trying to find the mole to clear himself. But Maddie’s trying to fake the story entirely. She was the one running from you guys. I don’t know why she got released before, but she’s definitely the mole.”

  Nikki added:

  “What stops it from being all of them? Elf, Maddie, AND Jamal? They all went after Connor, they’re all close to Malachi, and they’ve all done suspicious stuff.”

  Tisiah asked:

  “What did Elf do?”

  Mari didn’t even hesitate.

  “Association.”

  Tisiah responded with a skull emoji.

  I typed:

  “I’m gonna tell White about this. Or at least tell Principal Renner so I can tell White.”

  Two seconds later, Nikki wrote:

  “You should’ve said that first.”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  I sighed in ellipses—“………”—and shoved the phone into my pocket. Then I headed up the stairs.

  I walked down the hall toward Principal Renner’s office—the one directly across from Sensei Waine’s class. Which explains why Sensei Waine has been acting like she’s teaching us at gunpoint lately.

  I knocked on the principal’s door, holding my breath so tightly that my Perk probably activated without my permission. She was wearing a gray suit lined with thin stripes of red, blue, and green over a white button-up shirt, her hair slicked into a ponytail. A makeup kit sat on her mini-fridge behind her.

  “Come in,” she called, her usual sharp tone slicing through the room.

  I stepped inside. She immediately shoved her papers aside and looked straight at me.

  “Close the blinds.”

  Instant heart attack.

  I turned, grabbed the blinds, pulled—

  CRACK.

  I panicked and switched to twisting the rod instead. I’m almost positive I let out a small whimper before straightening up, clearing my throat, and facing her like a malfunctioning mannequin.

  She stared. No change in expression. Not even a micro-smile.

  “Alright,” she said, “I’m guessing you have new information.”

  “What if I didn’t?”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So I don’t need to imagine that scenario,” she muttered. “Go on.”

  “Well… it’s a lot. And it actually goes back to yesterday.”

  Her eyebrows lifted just a fraction—enough to show she was listening.

  “I think Jamal knows we’re onto him. Me and Malachi followed him from his house, and he said he saw us get ambushed.”

  “Was he not the one who did it?”

  “Apparently not.”

  Principal Renner leaned back, sighing quietly. She gestured for me to continue.

  “So today I eavesdropped and heard them planning to make it seem like I’m the mole by crashing the Mage Football tryout game.”

  Her eyes widened. Not dramatically, but definitely noticeably. She tried to keep her expression composed, but she was rattled.

  “That’s… ambitious,” she said.

  “From what I can tell, Jamal’s actually trying to find the mole to clear himself. But Maddie’s trying to pin everything on me. And she was the one we chased the other day. So I feel like it’s her. I think Investigator White needs to know.”

  “I don’t,” she said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because as far as I’m concerned, all of this is coming from someone who is still a suspect. It’s all talk. No evidence. And trust me—you’ve done suspicious things too.”

  “You don’t mean Mari, do you? She’s been working with me.”

  “Which you still swung at. And now Malachi is suddenly helping you? Everyone around you is suspicious. Your words aren’t enough.”

  She pulled her papers back toward herself and turned to her computer.

  “I’ll increase security during the game,” she said. “But this means next to nothing. Get out of my office.”

  Saturday

  The locker room smelled like Axe body spray, sweat, urine, and the humid breath of fifteen teenage boys who’ve never heard of ventilation. Some guys were testosterone-brained enough to shower right next to each other like they were filming a protein shake commercial.

  Malachi and Tisiah were putting on their shirts before gearing up, but that was hard to do when half the team kept patting Malachi’s back—supportively, apparently.

  Tisiah only got belly smacks and unsolicited belly rubs.

  “What if Principal Renner’s just sexist?” Malachi asked.

  The entire room detonated with laughter—whoas, hollering, hyena noises bouncing off the tiles.

  “Ay, ay, ay,” one guy said, hitting Malachi’s shoulder. Blond curls. Thick glasses. “Renner hears you say that, you’re getting clapped like this guy right here.”

  He pointed straight at me.

  Of course.

  I rolled my eyes and shoved my head deeper into my locker, trying to hide any chance of tears making a guest appearance.

  “Alright, leave him alone,” another guy said. “We don’t need him crashing out and coming for y’all first.”

  “I heard he got pulled with a lasso or somethin’,” Four-Eyes added. He reached toward my shoulder—clearly not in a hostile way, just stupid.

  But Tisiah wasn't having it.

  He slapped the guy’s hand so hard that the sound echoed.

  Now, yes—weight matters in fights.

  But there’s buff muscle weight…

  And then there’s slim-but-feral weight.

  And Four-Eyes?

  Definitely the latter.

  He wasn’t Andre-ripped, but you don’t need Andre-level bulk when the person squaring up is Tisiah, a man powered by pure emotional instability.

  I had to stop this fast.

  “Keep your hands in your pants, toe-sucker,” Tisiah hissed.

  The room fell into absolute T-pose silence.

  Eyes wide. Jaws dropped. Even Four-Eyes froze like he had just been unplugged.

  He swallowed hard and looked Tisiah up and down—but the whistle blew.

  Game time.

  Everyone scrambled to finish getting dressed. Four-Eyes smacked his belly once before walking away like nothing happened.

  Tisiah, chest rising and falling, finally looked at me. Malachi was already staring.

  “You deal with that every day?” Tisiah asked, breathless.

  I didn’t even have the strength to answer.