CHAPTER 35

MAGGIE WANTED TO KNOW who wrote prepare for war, but even she wasn’t sure why. She turned and scanned the room, avoiding Giovanna, Alexa, and Kat.

Mr. Cutter looked like he enjoyed seeing everyone wonder.

She stopped at Hudson. One of the few who wasn’t leaning across the aisle talking. Granted, Pancake was halfway across the room, but then Pancake didn’t look all that curious either. Was it because he knew exactly who wrote it? His brand-new friend?

If Hudson wrote prepare for war, everything made sense, didn’t it? Wouldn’t that prove he was the one who’d been beaten? She was sure it did.

The bell rang —and Maggie immediately turned just enough to watch Hudson while she packed her notebook into her backpack.

Others stood and collected their stuff. Hudson didn’t look to be in any hurry. She saw his jaw muscles working. He put one fist down on the seat, grabbed the front of his desk, and stood. Just the way someone would do it if he were in pain —but trying to hide it.

Zach Wolfe brushed by him, a little harder than was necessary. Hudson winced. Grabbed the back of the chair. Steadied himself. He held on for several seconds —knuckles white.

Now she was the one who needed something to steady herself. Hudson was the one. She had to tell someone. She glanced at Mr. Cutter.

All she had to do was wait until the class cleared out. She’d tell Mr. Cutter what she knew and let him sort it out. Maggie pretended to search for something in her pack.

Hudson passed. “See ya, Maggie.”

Maggie tried to smile. But if she looked as shaky as she felt, he’d get suspicious. And when the office investigated —he’d know she snitched for sure. Then what?

It was crazy. This morning she’d raised her hand —let herself be counted among those who’d never snitch. Now she couldn’t wait to unload. But she couldn’t get hung up on the whole “snitching” label. This was about reporting a student who might be dangerous. It was about protecting every innocent student at Southfield. Snitching was really the more heroic thing to do. Keep telling yourself that, Maggie.

“Hudson,” Mr. Cutter said. “Got a minute?”

Nearly to the door, Hudson turned around. “Uh, sure.”

Now what? Maggie couldn’t keep digging in her backpack. That would look like she was being nosy. Would she just wait out in the hall for Mr. Cutter? But when Hudson left, he’d see her. And he’d likely know what she was going to do. She zipped her pack, slung it over one shoulder, and headed for the door.

“Three words,” Mr. Cutter said. “I’m impressed. How did you know that?”

Maggie was out the door before she could hear Hudson’s response, but she’d heard enough. Hudson was obviously smart. And he was stronger than he looked. He’d likely been beaten pretty bad, but he’d chosen not to tell anybody. Why? Was he too scared to tell? She headed for her locker, rolling that thought over in her mind. The thing is, he didn’t look scared.

Which left a scary scenario. He hadn’t told anybody . . . because he intended to get even himself. It was the third option . . . the one he mentioned this morning. He wasn’t speaking hypothetically. He was giving Wolfe a warning.

Maggie couldn’t worry about how Hudson would react to her reporting him. She couldn’t. But she needed to bounce her suspicions off someone before she marched into the principal’s office. Mr. Mann. She changed course for the art room. Running down the stairs, she grabbed the handle. Locked.

Maggie pounded on the door. “Mr. Mann?” Nothing. She balled up her fist and thumped the door over and over. Maybe he was working on an escape tunnel after all. Wherever he was, he couldn’t hear her. Which left her two options. Go to the office and talk to somebody now, or she’d have to make sure Hudson didn’t do anything crazy tomorrow.

She hustled up the stairs, skipped her locker, and headed for the office. The closer she got, the more she felt this was all wrong. She stood outside the glass partition separating the office from the hall. She eyed the door. Reached for the doorknob. The principal was inside, talking to someone on the phone. Pacing.

Maggie looked down the hall, hoping to see Mr. Cutter or Mr. Mann. Either would do. The hallway was nearly empty —with no teachers in sight. Make a decision, Maggie! The buses would be leaving. If she wanted to talk to the principal, she’d have to do it now. But what would she say? “I think I know who was in the big fight, but I don’t have any way of proving it.” Oh, that sounded good. “And I think he might do something horrible to get even, like bring a gun.” Didn’t that sound just a weensy bit paranoid?

What could the principal really do, anyway? Confront Hudson? What was to stop him from denying everything? And he’d know exactly who snitched. He’d add Maggie to his hit list.

The fact was Maggie had no facts. Zero hard evidence. She’d seen Hudson pointing the imaginary gun at Wolfe —that’s it. All she had were her feelings. Snitching was crazy. Maggie let her hand slide off the knob. Deep inside, part of her screamed tell Mrs. Jackson your suspicions. Another part of her said run for the bus.

She took off down B Hall for the exit. With every step she second-guessed herself. Had she made a mistake? What if her suspicions were right? By the time she hit the crash bars and stepped outside, she knew she’d have to do something. She couldn’t let herself off the hook that easy. It was up to her now. She’d have to confront Hudson tomorrow. Before he walked into the school.

And pray to God he wasn’t packing a gun.