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Authors: Michael D. Beil
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possibly want.”
Jensen glared at her. “I don’t want to…Oh, never mind. Why am I arguing with you? Your daddy probably
owns
233dotcom.”
Winter smiled at Andy. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, yeah. See you,” he said.
When Winter was gone, Jensen pushed Andy against the empty shelves, holding him by the front of his shirt. “This is a
huge
story, Sandy, but we’re going to have to get our hands a little dirty to do it justice. You’re not afraid to do that, are you?”
Poor Andy. Starting from the moment he pushed that pickle to the side, his life had been turned upside down and inside out. He looked Jensen right in the eye. “I’m not afraid. And it’s
Andy.
”
Checking to see that no one was watching, Andy reached past the root beer, his hand landing on an icy bottle of cream soda. He hesitated, then released it and picked up his usual root beer.
“Excellent choice,” Silas said.
Andy almost jumped out of his sneakers when he saw him less than five feet away. “How did you do that? I
just
looked—there was nobody here.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice. Everything still okay?”
“Yeah, fine, I guess. So, you’re back. Does that mean I’m going to find out who I’m—”
“Saturday, I promise. Trust me, at this point, it’s best if you don’t know—you’ll be more natural. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. I see you’re going to be working on the library story with Jensen Huntley.”
“You already know about that?”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t. Anything else? Classes okay? Making friends?”
“Yeah, I guess. A few. Winter brought me breakfast the other day, from that French bakery over on Third.”
“Oh? That was nice. What was it?”
“An almond croissant. My favorite. I had one once before.”
Silas’s ears pricked when he heard that, remembering his golden rule:
There are no coincidences.
“Oh, and there was something strange. She left it in my locker for me.”
“Why is that strange?”
“I’m positive that I locked my locker. I never leave it unlocked. Winter said it wasn’t locked when she got there, but…I don’t know. I guess it’s
possible
that I forgot.”
“Hmm. Nothing missing?”
“No, I checked. It’s not like I keep anything valuable in there, but it was just weird.”
“Listen, if anything strange happens—anything out of the ordinary at
all
—use that email address I gave you. In the meantime, don’t do anything crazy, and don’t forget about Saturday. And lock your locker.”
A few minutes before the start of homeroom on Friday, Jensen pulled Andy aside in the seventh-floor hallway. His classmates gave him funny looks as they passed, no doubt wondering what the new kid, a seventh grader, could possibly have to do with Jensen Huntley, a junior—and a notorious one, at that.
After Jensen snarled (“What are
you
looking at?”) at Parker Elmsford, a sweet, quiet girl in Andy’s homeroom, the others gave her a wide berth.
“I’ve got something to tell you. Guess who bought 233dotcom last year.”
Andy shrugged. “I—I don’t know. Who?”
“NTRP. The same company that’s suddenly so interested in helping out our Broadcasting Club. Something is going on. It’s like they’re taking over the school. Dr. Everly must be involved with them. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, don’t talk to
anybody
about this story, unless you talk to me first.” She stormed off, running directly into Patricia Elmsford, Parker’s twin sister, sending books and paper flying in all directions.
As Andy kneeled down to help her, the elevator door opened and Winter stepped out.
“What happened here?” she asked. “Looks like a tornado went through the hall.”
“Something like that,” said Andy. “Hurricane Jensen.”
“Jensen Huntley? What was she doing on the seventh floor? Upper school kids
never
come up this far.”
“She wanted to tell me something about
Jensen glared at her. “I don’t want to…Oh, never mind. Why am I arguing with you? Your daddy probably
owns
233dotcom.”
Winter smiled at Andy. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uh, yeah. See you,” he said.
When Winter was gone, Jensen pushed Andy against the empty shelves, holding him by the front of his shirt. “This is a
huge
story, Sandy, but we’re going to have to get our hands a little dirty to do it justice. You’re not afraid to do that, are you?”
Poor Andy. Starting from the moment he pushed that pickle to the side, his life had been turned upside down and inside out. He looked Jensen right in the eye. “I’m not afraid. And it’s
Andy.
”
Checking to see that no one was watching, Andy reached past the root beer, his hand landing on an icy bottle of cream soda. He hesitated, then released it and picked up his usual root beer.
“Excellent choice,” Silas said.
Andy almost jumped out of his sneakers when he saw him less than five feet away. “How did you do that? I
just
looked—there was nobody here.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice. Everything still okay?”
“Yeah, fine, I guess. So, you’re back. Does that mean I’m going to find out who I’m—”
“Saturday, I promise. Trust me, at this point, it’s best if you don’t know—you’ll be more natural. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. I see you’re going to be working on the library story with Jensen Huntley.”
“You already know about that?”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t. Anything else? Classes okay? Making friends?”
“Yeah, I guess. A few. Winter brought me breakfast the other day, from that French bakery over on Third.”
“Oh? That was nice. What was it?”
“An almond croissant. My favorite. I had one once before.”
Silas’s ears pricked when he heard that, remembering his golden rule:
There are no coincidences.
“Oh, and there was something strange. She left it in my locker for me.”
“Why is that strange?”
“I’m positive that I locked my locker. I never leave it unlocked. Winter said it wasn’t locked when she got there, but…I don’t know. I guess it’s
possible
that I forgot.”
“Hmm. Nothing missing?”
“No, I checked. It’s not like I keep anything valuable in there, but it was just weird.”
“Listen, if anything strange happens—anything out of the ordinary at
all
—use that email address I gave you. In the meantime, don’t do anything crazy, and don’t forget about Saturday. And lock your locker.”
A few minutes before the start of homeroom on Friday, Jensen pulled Andy aside in the seventh-floor hallway. His classmates gave him funny looks as they passed, no doubt wondering what the new kid, a seventh grader, could possibly have to do with Jensen Huntley, a junior—and a notorious one, at that.
After Jensen snarled (“What are
you
looking at?”) at Parker Elmsford, a sweet, quiet girl in Andy’s homeroom, the others gave her a wide berth.
“I’ve got something to tell you. Guess who bought 233dotcom last year.”
Andy shrugged. “I—I don’t know. Who?”
“NTRP. The same company that’s suddenly so interested in helping out our Broadcasting Club. Something is going on. It’s like they’re taking over the school. Dr. Everly must be involved with them. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, don’t talk to
anybody
about this story, unless you talk to me first.” She stormed off, running directly into Patricia Elmsford, Parker’s twin sister, sending books and paper flying in all directions.
As Andy kneeled down to help her, the elevator door opened and Winter stepped out.
“What happened here?” she asked. “Looks like a tornado went through the hall.”
“Something like that,” said Andy. “Hurricane Jensen.”
“Jensen Huntley? What was she doing on the seventh floor? Upper school kids
never
come up this far.”
“She wanted to tell me something about
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