CHAPTER 62

MAGGIE WASN’T FEELING MUCH better by the time she got to Mr. Cutter’s class. She could feel Kat’s eyes on her. Alexa’s too. And she didn’t want to think about Jo’s eyes.

Mr. Cutter sat on the edge of his desk. “All right, savages. You have a big project due Friday. That’s T-minus-four days. There will be no delays on this launch, people.”

Wolfe and his pack walked in late —which gave Maggie the chance to take the hall pass from Mr. Cutter’s desk and slip out of the room. Waiting to use the bathroom until just after class started was her new routine —and Mr. Cutter never questioned her. It was a lot safer than going between classes when Kat or Alexa might corner her.

Pancake stood just outside the boys room —the front of his pants and shirt soaked.

“Have a little accident, Pancake?” Maggie asked.

“Ha ha.” His face —a mix of embarrassment and anger. He pointed to his pants. “Thank Zachary Wolfe, Mitch Zattora, and Brett Scurto for shoving me into the urinal and flushing it —twice. Why? They want to know who Robin Hood is. And they suggested I stop wearing red shoes.”

“What?” This whole thing was getting out of control. Totally off the rails.

He held up his phone. “But I whipped out my camera and got footage of them running out of the bathroom —and threatening to flush me again if I didn’t do what they wanted. Holy Jalapeños, Maggie, I think I’ve got hot sauce burning through my veins right now.”

Maggie checked the hallway in both directions. Empty. “What are you going to do?”

“Wolfe says he’s going to kill me if I don’t get in line.” He tapped his phone. “But I’m going to bury them with this.”

“No, I mean now.” Maggie pointed at his shirt. “Are you going to the office?”

Pancake shook his head. “And I’m not going to class either. I’ll grab my bike and —”

“Just wait here,” Maggie said. “Okay? We’ll talk when I get out of the bathroom.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Just hurry, okay? I don’t want anyone seeing me.”

Maggie stepped into the second stall, closed the door, and latched it —her mind still reeling from the sight of Pancake. Hudson and his Pavlovian theories were all down the drain now, weren’t they? And Robin Hood —all his Red Shoe Brigade stuff —what was the point? Nothing had really changed.

Stop thinking about Robin Hood, girl. You’re not going to find him after all this. Maggie needed to focus on helping Pancake right now. So much of this was her fault. Pancake had just gotten into the line of fire.

Instinct told her to run. Hide. Blend in. Like she always used to do.

Like that would really work anymore.

She had to do something. She had to find some way to end this, didn’t she? But how?

She looked down at her feet. How could a pair of shoes —given in total love —be the cause of so much hatred?