CHAPTER 71

HUDSON WAS LOCKING HIS BIKE at Southfield as Maggie and Pancake rode up. Maggie got off her bike and held up an envelope. “I brought a letter from my mom explaining why I left early yesterday. Don’t worry, she didn’t name any names. Not that she didn’t want to. I need to drop this at the office.”

Pancake swung his backpack off his shoulder and whipped open a zipper. “I got one too. Somewhere.”

“A note from my mom?” Maggie smiled. “That’s weird.”

Pancake slapped his knee and did an exaggerated act of hysterical laughter. “Funny.”

Hudson kept a lookout for the pack and the litter.

“When I went to bed,” Pancake said, “my madre told me a story about a kid in Guadalajara she knew who was getting bullied by two guys —older and bigger. He warned them to stop.” He opened another pocket of his backpack and swept his hand inside. “Where is that stupid note?”

Maggie gave him a little kick. “So what happened? Did they stop?”

“Not at first. They kept pushing him —until one day they stopped dead.”

Maggie put her hands on her hips. “They stopped completely?” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that? How did the kid make them stop?”

“I just told you,” Pancake said. “They stopped dead. Dead.”

Maggie stared at him. “Are you saying . . .”

Pancake drew a finger across his throat. “The two bullies were found dead.”

“Wonderful story, Pancake. Lovely.”

“The bullied kid’s uncle was a honcho in some drug cartel.” He shrugged. “Street justice. Eventually bullies get what’s coming to them.”

And Wolfe and the others were about to learn that the hard way.

“Tell me you don’t have an uncle working for a drug cartel, Pancake.”

“Not that I know of.” Pancake smiled. “But it’s a big family.” He pulled out his lunch bag and dug inside —and instantly found his mom’s letter for the principal. “Here it is.”

Maggie shook her head. “Your mom tells some creepy bedtime stories, Pancake.”

“Actually,” Pancake replied with a smile, “I slept a whole lot better after hearing it.”

“The bell is going to ring,” Hudson said. He hustled into the building alongside Pancake and Maggie.

Maggie held up a sealed envelope. “I’ll run this to the office.”

Pancake joined her, and Hudson followed. He intended to stay close, no matter how sure Maggie was of her safety.

The moment he stepped into the office, Hudson sensed trouble. He looked around for a member of the pack or litter. Or maybe a parent. The only person who didn’t look like she belonged was a husky woman bending the principal’s ear about something.

The woman pointed at Pancake. “There’s the perv! That’s the girl too!”

“Uh-oh,” Pancake whispered.

The red-faced woman stormed over, with Mrs. Jackson jogging to catch up.

Pancake stood his ground. “Why hello, Ms. Hoskins.”

The woman glared at him. “Filthy Beast.”

“I’ll handle this,” Mrs. Jackson said. “Don’t you need to get back to your bus?”

The bus driver shouldered past them and stiff-armed her way out the office door.

Mrs. Jackson waited until the office door closed. “Am I right to assume that both of you were involved in what happened in the girls washroom during last period yesterday?”

Maggie nodded. “If you’re talking about the black paint —yes. But it was nothing like what Ms. Hoskins implied.” She held up the envelope. “A note from my mom. This should explain everything.”

Pancake handed his letter to her as well.

Mrs. Jackson tore open Maggie’s envelope first, unfolded the note, and skimmed it. Looked down at Maggie’s shoes. Went back to the letter. “There are no names. Maggie, honey, who did this to you?”

Maggie glanced at Hudson. “I can’t tell you that.”

Mrs. Jackson stared at Hudson. “And why is that?”

The principal was way too smart. Fluent in two languages. “Hudson? You’re pressuring Maggie not to tell.”

Make that fluent in three languages, because body language definitely counts. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, ma’am,” Hudson said, “but the girls behind this —just like the guys who bully here at Southfield —are widely known. Kids steer clear of them. If you don’t know who they are, how can we trust you’ll know how to handle them?” He couldn’t believe he had just said that.

The principal raised an eyebrow. “We can help.”

Hudson shook his head. “The bullying won’t stop. It just goes underground.” How many times had he gone over this speech?

“We do not allow bullying at our school.” She pointed to a series of signs in the front entranceway.

Hudson shrugged. “But it happens. A lot. To really good kids. Pressuring them to do things they don’t want to do. Totally humiliating them.” He pointed at Maggie. “What they did to Maggie was cruel —at school and online. Once someone is a target, there is no escaping.”

Honestly? Mrs. Jackson looked like she really could help. She obviously wanted to. But if they spilled the names now, they’d have to show the video clips —and then their chance to go big with the evidence would disappear.

“How can I help if I don’t have names?”

“You’ve got eyes. And ears.” Hudson probably said that with a little more force than he should have. What was that old proverb Dad mentioned about reckless words? “I’m sorry for how that came out. But if you watch for the bullying, you’ll see it.” He pointed at Maggie’s letter. “Let us try to handle this in our own way.”

Mrs. Jackson shook her head. “I don’t like the sound of that. Hudson, you’re new here —and maybe you have a hard time trusting me. I get that. But I’m not asking you to snitch. That’s about getting someone in trouble. That’s not what you want, is it.”

She had a way of asking a question that made it sound like a statement.

“I don’t think it will help. I want to make a real change.”

“You want to protect your friends.”

He nodded. She definitely was reading him right.

“Then talk to me. I’m asking you to report what’s going on. It’s the only way I can protect anyone.”

But they already had a plan, didn’t they? The bell sounded. Now they’d all be late.

Mrs. Jackson studied him for a moment. “The bumper stickers. You were part of that, weren’t you.”

It was bad enough to withhold information. But he drew the line when it came to telling an outright lie. “Yes, ma’am. Testing the Pavlovian theory a bit.”

She angled her head, studying him. “Trying to train them to behave differently?”

Okay, she got it. “Using social pressure instead of food, of course.”

“And did behavior change?”

Maggie shot Hudson a look.

“No ma’am. Not as well as we’d hoped.”

Mrs. Jackson ripped open Pancake’s letter. Her eyes grew wide as she read. Her eyes darted to Pancake for a moment —as if his clothes might still be wet. “Look, I admire the fact that you kids are trying to handle this on your own. But this bullying has to stop. I want to know who did this to you. You need the big guns now. I can help.”

Pancake shrugged. “If we gave you the names right now, you’d call them into the office. They’d put their spin on everything that happened. Next thing you know, we’ll all be expected to shake hands and make up. But if it doesn’t come from here” —he pointed to his chest —“they’ll be back to their old ways —or worse.”

Mrs. Jackson shook her head. “That’s not going to happen.”

She looked totally sincere. Hudson wanted to believe her. He really did. But if she didn’t succeed, he’d lose his big opportunity. “We got this, Mrs. Jackson.”

The principal sighed. “I’m calling your parents in.” She pointed to each of them. “All three of you. And we’re going to hash this whole thing out. Today.”

“Wait,” Hudson said. “Just give us one day to exert a little social pressure.”

“Exactly how are you going to do that?”

Hudson hesitated. “Let me make you a deal.”

“You are not in a position to be making deals.” Mrs. Jackson folded her arms across her chest. “But I’m listening.”

Hudson was no expert in body language, but hers wasn’t hard to interpret. “Let me set up my social pressure thing today. Tomorrow morning you’ll have the names.” If all went right, a lot of people would have those names tomorrow.

She studied him for a moment. “Tomorrow. You’ll give me the names. The real names.”

Hudson nodded. “I’ll email them directly to you before first period. I promise.” And why not? It would be too late for her to stop anything. He’d even include the YouTube link. “And if you still want my parents for a meeting then, I won’t argue.”

She studied his face for a moment. “If you’ll do it tomorrow, why not today?”

“Ivan Pavlov,” Hudson said. “I want this last chance at changing their behavior.” And there was more, wasn’t there? The tiny little part about making them hurt.

Mrs. Jackson shook the letters. “Let me help you,” she whispered. “I’m serious.”

Hudson believed she was. Part of him wanted to give her the names right now and forget his crazy plan. By the look on Maggie’s face, he was pretty sure she was feeling the same way. He couldn’t read Pancake, but Hudson was willing to bet he wanted his film clips to be seen by the world —really bad.

“Tomorrow,” Hudson said. “You’ll get the names.” And then he’d really be needing her help.

Her lips got tight and formed one of those straight lines like Maggie’s did. “You’ll need a pass to get into class.” She stepped over to a desk and zipped off passes. She held onto Hudson’s when he tried to take it. “I’ll be watching you.”

Hudson didn’t doubt it. “But I’m not the bully.”

She released the pass, and all three of them hurried for the office door. The principal could change her mind at any moment. But they’d just caught themselves a real break.

Pancake clapped him on the back the moment they stepped into the hall. “That was close, amigo.”

“And I bet you’re proud of yourself,” Maggie said.

“As a matter of fact —”

Kat stood in the middle of the hall staring at him. Glaring was a better word. Hudson’s exhilaration fizzled fast.

“You went to the principal —and snitched?” Kat looked totally disgusted. “Oh, real smart. I didn’t think you were that stupid.” She brushed by Hudson on her way to the office.

Hudson followed her to the door. “Smart. Stupid. Make up your mind, Katrina.”

She grabbed the handle, but turned to face him. Something about her eyes made Hudson’s stomach do a backflip. Ruthless was the word that popped in his head, although he’d never used the word in his life.

She smiled, but her eyes didn’t. “You know what day this is?”

“Ah, I’m going to go with Tuesday.”

Kat pushed the door open a crack. “Payday. And you’re up for a bonus.”