“Like, spying?”
“Yeah, like that.”
“Why?”
Finn thought back to the confrontation in the boys’ room before lunch. He thought back to the photograph with the Evil Queen.
“It’s…involved,” he answered. “The question is: Do I dare test it?”
“Test, as in…?”
“I’m going to go over there,” Finn said. “If he beats up on me, I may need you to rescue me.”
“Me? And Greg Luowski? Right.”
Finn handed him his phone. “Threaten to call nine-one-one.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m not saying to do it. Just threaten it. Luowski’s stupid, but he’s not dumb. He won’t want to mess with the police.”
“He might want to mess with me,” Dillard said.
“It’s your call,” Finn said.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll do it.”
Finn patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks.”
Finn stood and hurried across the street. “Greg!” he called out.
Luowski appeared to panic. He spun around, then reconsidered and turned back to face Finn. He seemed uncharacteristically perplexed.
“Whitless.” Luowski had been born mean. He was the kind of kid destined to be a serial killer, the kind of kid who burned down garages, who dropped rocks off highway overpasses. The kind of kid who deserved a “Go Directly to Jail” card in Monopoly.
“Are you following me?” Finn said.
“As if.”
He was a bad liar.
Luowski turned his head slightly, and Finn saw the green contact lenses. Instead of looking silly, they gave him a chill. Was it possible Luowski and other students (how many, he had no way of knowing!) had been put under a spell by the Evil Queen? That the green contacts were a way for them to identify each other and to intimidate the Keepers? How many had the Queen recruited? Did the spread of the Overtakers extend beyond their own school? If so, how many did the OTs now control? And why? It was enough to make Finn wonder why he’d so eagerly crossed the street to confront Luowski in the first place.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Luowski asked.
“Apparently not.” But something tells me I’m about to, Finn thought.
“The trouble with you, Whitless, is you think you’re so special. You and your friends.”
There were times that Luowski tried to act tough. Then there were times when he looked like a lightbulb screwed into the socket wrong—a sparking, problem-ridden, butch-cut, ex-Marine in a sixteen-year-old’s body.
Finn warned himself to settle down. If he could manage a few seconds of all clear, Luowski wouldn’t be able to hurt him. But at the moment the space between him and all clear was about as wide as the Grand Canyon.
Luowski was like a force field, and Finn a metal particle nearby. Worse, Luowski was relaxed. He didn’t have a care in the world.
“Why would you want to follow me? That’s what I’m asking myself,” Finn said.
“You’re confused. You are so naïve.”
Finn studied the green-eyed kid. A word like naïve had no place coming out of his mouth.
“You must have had Language Arts today,” Finn said.
“Take off,” Luowski said, “before you fall down and get hurt.”
“What did she promise you?”
“Don’t know who you’re talking about,” Luowski replied.
Finn decided it was worth the risk. He pulled the photo out of his back pocket.
“Her,” he said, showing the picture of Luowski and the Evil Queen.
“You Photoshop that or something? I don’t even know who that is.”
He sounded so convincing that Finn nearly believed him.
“I didn’t Photoshop those contact lenses.”
“The trouble with you, Whitless, is your mouth runs like a faucet.”
“Language Arts must have been a block class today.”
“See what I mean?”
“Don’t believe her. She’ll eat you up and spit you out,” Finn said.
“Is that right?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
Luowski grabbed Finn by the shoulders. His hands felt like metal clamps.
“Listen to me carefully, Whitless.” His breath was sour, his voice dry and raspy. The contact lenses made his eyes look like doll eyes when close up. Like dead eyes. “Some of us don’t believe in magic.”
He pushed Finn back, lifting him off his feet and sending him to the sidewalk. Luowski was strong—maybe the strongest kid in the entire high school, not just ninth grade—but it had been more than strength that had lifted Finn off his feet.
“I’M GOING TO CALL NINE-ONE-ONE!” came a girlish-sounding threat from across the street.