Top of the Class (6 page)

“I’m
trying
,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Trying what?” came a girl’s voice.

I spun around and saw a blond girl that I recognized from the pictures in Eric’s e-mail inbox. Antonia, the girl who told me I’d pay.

Antonia was wearing a great deal more clothing than she was when I’d last seen her in Eric’s e-mail inbox, and her skin was darker, but I recognized her piercing green eyes.

She stormed toward me and I instinctively blocked my face with my forearms, thinking maybe she’d scratch my eyes.

“Look who it is,” she smirked. “The cheater. In more ways than one!”

“What?” Did she know about Miss Rogers?

“I hear you’re all shaken up,” she said, satisfied. “My dad said you were a mess in class yesterday.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied.

My dad?
I scanned my brain for a connection. Antonia Koch. I spent yesterday morning failing a test on the Hapsburgs for…Mr. Koch.

Of course. Antonia’s father was my history teacher.

Eric had graduated from dating a teacher’s daughter to dating a teacher.

“You know you had this coming,” Antonia said with a wry smile. “Don’t pretend to be so surprised.”

Was she talking about how her father was going to fail me for breaking up with his daughter? Or was she talking about how she had framed me for fraud?

She stared at me with what are commonly known as “crazy-eyes.” Eric had really done a number on her, and she was staring at me like she literally wanted him dead—or in jail.

“I gotta go,” she said. “You reap what you sow, Eric. Enjoy.”

She sauntered past me down the hallway.

I turned to go, but I was stopped by Tooth and Caterpillar, who had heard the whole thing.

“Dude, that was brutal,” said Caterpillar.

“I know,” I said. “Do you think she’s the one who framed me?”

Tooth shook his head. “Nah, man. She whines sometimes, but she’s not capable of orchestrating a computer fraud. She’s too big a spaz. It was totally Richard.”

“We’re gonna go take care of him right now,” said Caterpillar. “We were just coming to get you.”

I didn’t want an assault charge tacked onto the growing list of grievances against me, but I couldn’t think of another way to get to the truth.

“Okay,” I sighed. “Let’s go get him.”

Chapter
8

Friday, 9:34 AM

I
t was second period, and the computer lab was dark and empty, save for the glow of a computer screen and a small head of scant black hair in front of it.

Richard sat in the computer room, alone.

“Just don’t kill him,” I whispered to Caterpillar.

“I won’t,” he replied. “If he confesses.”

I heard the sound of laughter behind me, which was odd, because Tooth and Caterpillar were walking in front. I turned around and spotted Will, hands in his pockets, following us.

“I hope you don’t have a crush on either one of these idiots,” he warned.

I rolled my eyes and motioned for him to scram.

Tooth and Caterpillar snuck up behind Richard and seized both of his shoulders, then spun him around in the rolling desk chair so that he was facing me.

He gulped as he tried to yank away from the tight grasp of Tooth and Caterpillar.

“Well, if it isn’t the Bobby Flay of academic records.”

“What?”

“You
cooked
the books.” Richard leaned back in his chair, proud of himself, like he’d been rehearsing that joke for a few days.

Tooth didn’t find it nearly as amusing. “Shut up, loser.”

“I don’t think Richard is the loser in this room,” Will quipped, watching the scene unfold from over my shoulder.

“We know you framed Eric,” said Caterpillar. “So just admit what you did, and we can avoid any further unpleasantness.”

“I did nothing of the sort,” Richard replied.

“My question is:
how
did you frame me?” I said. “I know
why
you did it, but I can’t figure out how you actually managed to get my fingerprints on the keyboard.”

Richard smiled. “That’s what I can’t figure out either. I know it wasn’t you, because your knowledge of computers is too rudimentary. You’re like an old woman. But then whoever did this—and it certainly wasn’t me—had access to your fingers, somehow. I don’t understand it.”

“He’s lying, dude,” said Tooth. “He’s being all psychological and stuff.”

“‘
All psychological and stuff
’? These two are brilliant.” Will giggled.

“Shut up!” I yelled at Will. Of course, no one knew that I was yelling at Will except Will.

“You shut up, Eric!” Caterpillar yelled back. “We’re trying to do you a favor, here!”

“Sorry, I…wasn’t talking to you.”

I looked sideways at Richard. Could he be telling the truth?

“I
could
have easily hacked the system and changed your grades,” he said. “In fact, maybe I could do it right now—”

“Then do it!” Tooth hollered, digging his nails into Richard’s shoulder.

“—
if
you tell these wastes of space to leave.” He looked up, indicating Tooth and Caterpillar.

“Oh, don’t let them go!” Will said. “Let them beat up the smart kid! That always solves problems.”

“Guys…” I said. “Could you leave us alone for a minute?”

Tooth and Caterpillar nodded, crestfallen, and released their grip. “Fine,” said Caterpillar. “We’ll be outside if you need us.”

They left and shut the door behind them, with Will following.

“Let’s see who they try to punch next!” Will whispered gleefully, as he left.

I scowled at Will, then turned back to Richard. “Sorry about them,” I said. “It was their idea.”

“I’m not threatened in the least,” Richard grumbled. “Now, just watch and learn.”

I sat in the rolling chair next to Richard. He typed faster than most people talk. He played that keyboard like one of those Russian piano prodigies plays a concerto.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before,” said Richard. “I can hack in and check the sign-in log. It’ll show the tag of whoever hacked into the system at that time.”

Richard typed a bunch of symbols into a blank screen.

“What’s your tag?” I asked, not even sure what a tag was.

“I’ll never tell you,” he said, then turned his head and whispered. “Fine, I’ll tell you. It’s ‘IAmPeytonManning.’ I’m a Colts fan.”

He typed a list of commands and came up with a list of names and times labeled
Pembroke Hall Master System Log
. “Okay, I’m going back to Wednesday night at 8:13 p.m., and…”

Richard squinted at the screen, confused. “That’s weird.”

“What?”

“No one hacked in at that time.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means whoever changed your grades had the password.”

“Who has the passwords?”

“Just the administration and the faculty. And maybe… the daughter of a faculty member?”

Antonia.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked. “Can you hack into Antonia Koch’s e-mail account?”

“Innnnnteresting,” said Richard, rubbing his chin. “I hadn’t considered the possibility, but she sure does hate you, and she probably has her daddy’s password to the system.” Richard’s fingers leapt into another magnificent bit of keyboard choreography, and in a moment, I was staring at the contents of Antonia’s electronic history.

Richard did a search for my name, and thousands of e-mails turned up, the most recent of which was an unsent draft.

“Open that one,” I told him.

How could I have known it would be a mistake?

Subject: WTF

Dear Eric,

I wanted to let you know that I know why you dumped me so fast. I saw you and Miss Rogers talking in her classroom, and I saw you kissing her. Needless to say, I could tell my dad and it’d be all over for her. She’d be fired. But I

The e-mail stopped mid-sentence, but Richard had already read enough.

“You…and Miss Rogers?” he moaned. “How?”

“I have no idea,” I answered truthfully. “You weren’t supposed to see that. Antonia certainly wasn’t supposed to see that. You can’t tell anyone.”

“I can’t say anything until I pick my jaw off the floor, which might take a few years,” he said. “Did you…with Miss Rogers...you know?”

“None of your business.”

“Wow,” he nodded. “I’m impressed.”

I spent the rest of the morning trolling the hallways like a vagabond. I didn’t bother going to any of Eric’s classes, as he would be leaving the school at the end of the day, whatever happened.

Richard’s words rang in my ear: “Someone who had access to your fingers.”

Had Antonia captured Eric’s fingerprints somehow and transferred them to the keyboard in the principal’s office? She probably could have swiped an office key from her father, but actually getting her hands on a clean set of his fingerprints seemed awfully tricky for a regular high school kid.

I shook my head. I had no ideas.

“Eric,” came a woman’s voice.

I spun around and saw a short, plump woman with a poof of curly red hair. She walked toward me with a cane. She was wearing orthopedic shoes even though she didn’t look more than forty. The features of her face were all a little too close together, like they’d melted into the center. “I heard about the mess with the principal. Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, even though that was the farthest thing from the truth.

She was standing in the doorway of a classroom. “Ms. Salat, English,” was engraved on a placard on the door.

“Well, I hope it all works out. You’re free to come use your Mac any time. Don’t feel like you have to avoid me because of…what’s going on.”

I peered past her into the classroom and saw a lone Apple desktop sitting on a table in the corner.

“My Mac?”

“Well, not
really
yours, of course. But since you’re always in here after class using it, I’ve started thinking of it as the official Eric McCormack computer.” She smiled weakly. “I hate to think it’s true, Eric. What people are saying…”

I brushed away her concern, still staring at the computer. “Why don’t I just use the computer lab?” I said.

Ms. Salat looked at me like I had several heads. “Because you get distracted in the computer lab with other people around you? I don’t know, Eric. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“So I use this computer, and this keyboard, every day after school, and no one else uses it?”

Ms. Salat nodded, concerned, and put the back of her hand to my forehead. “No fever…”

So that was it. Someone took the Mac keyboard—my Mac keyboard—and switched it with the principal’s keyboard after changing my grades. That’s how they got my fingerprints.

“Thank you, Ms. Salat!” I shouted, and kissed her on the forehead.

But
who
switched the keyboard? That was the question I had to answer now, I thought, as I took off down the hallway.

Rounding the corner, I glanced at the clock suspended above a trophy case.

It was noon.

I was running out of time.

I had fewer than three hours to fix Eric’s life.

Chapter
9

Friday, 12:04 PM

M
y face was hot and I was overwhelmed. I desperately needed to have a moment with myself, a moment alone.

I pushed open the door to the bathroom and paced over to the mirror. I ran the faucet while staring at my face—my real face. I looked frightened, and purple bags underlined my eyes.

Suddenly, an industrial-strength toilet flushed with a noisy rush, a stall door flew open, and out stepped Antonia.

“Eric!” she screamed. “What are you doing in here?”

I shook my head, flustered. This was the girls’ bathroom. I had been so preoccupied that I had forgotten I was a boy now. “Uh, I don’t know,” I stammered. “Sorry. Never mind. I’m leaving.”

She blocked my path, sauntered coolly to the door, and turned the lock. I was stuck. “You must be really messed up right now,” she laughed. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve never forgotten your keys, let alone which bathroom to use.”

I leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on my face. I wanted to dull my thoughts, my worries, my fears, to dull everything. The water fell, drip by drip, off the tip of my nose.

Antonia’s laughter turned to concern. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m sure you’d love it if I said no,” I answered, straightening up, and drying my face with the tail of my shirt.

She looked me straight in the eyes. “You really know how to make a girl feel good, huh? You’re very talented at that.”

“What?”

“Of course I want you to be okay, Eric. I’m still incredibly mad at you, but I don’t want you to go to jail. I’m not some crazy bitch. Unlike some people.”

“Like who?” I asked.

She hesitated a minute. “Never mind.”

Then I remembered the e-mail she’d been drafting to me about Miss Rogers. “Do you mean…Miss Rogers?”

Shock and resentment and simple loneliness all scrabbled for turf on her face.

“Don’t ask me how I know that you know,” I said. “I just…I’m sorry about it, but I’m begging you to let the principal know that it was you who framed me, that you got the password and office key from your dad. I can’t go to jail.”

A tear fell from Antonia’s eye. “I can’t believe you,” she whispered.

“I know what I did was wrong, but you sank right to my level.”

“Actually, no, I didn’t,” she retorted, her mouth stiffening.

I furrowed my brow. “But you said…in your e-mail…you threatened me.”

“It was
figurative
, Eric,” she huffed. “I would never actually want anything bad to happen to you. I just wanted to kill you. You like, dumped me. After two years. With no warning.
Over the phone
. But I can’t believe you would think I’d frame you. Eric, I love you. That’s why I’m so angry about what you did to me. That you’d leave me for your crazy student council adviser.”

“Why do you keep calling her crazy?”