SHEDDING STEVIE

Monday, 9:16 A.M.

“Attention, Marine Biology students.” Spinster Finnster’s labored breath rattled over the bus speakers like the soundtrack to a geriatric slasher flick. “We will be arriving at Shedd Aquarium in just a few moments, and we will then make our way to the Oceanarium for the dolphin show.” Mic feedback screeched as she mentioned something about being good ambassadors to the outside world. Everybody groaned, and the volume on the bus resumed its Wrigley-Field-on-game-day level.

“Okay, girls. Are we ready?” I tapped a caffeinated rhythm on the ripped leather seatback in front of me. I might have been a nervous, jittery wreck on the inside, but on the outside, I had it together. My jade jersey boatneck dress was innocent enough, but the black fishnets and laceless black ankle boots added an appropriate hint of “bad girl on a mission.”

“Born ready,” Nessa assured me with a nod.

“Good.” The girls and I had staked a claim on the four seats in the back row. Paige sat one row ahead of us, but luckily she had occupied herself handing out baggies of pistachios with the slogan Go Nuts for Paige Greene on them. Quinn and Aaron Peterman were tossing a Nerf football in the aisle while Jake Fields called the plays.

And Zander and Stevie were smashed against each other in one of the middle rows, sharing a single set of iPod buds. He’d hardly acknowledged me all morning. All I’d gotten was a nod, the kind you give your old-lady next-door neighbor Mrs. Weitzman so you won’t have to stop and talk to her about cat arthritis.

“She deserves this. What goes around comes around, right?” Liv crossed her legs into lotus pose and closed her eyes.

“Right.” I tightened my high ponytail and checked for bumps in the smudged window. Beyond my reflection, Michigan Avenue landmarks raced by. Pritzker Pavilion, where Molly and Zander had gone on their first (and only) date. The Millennium Park skating rink, where I’d told Zander I had to quit the band.

“Aaaand he’s going long, and it’s—gooooood!” In the fifth row, Jake jumped to his feet as Quinn jogged backward and pawed the football from the air, almost tripping over the mountain of backpacks in the aisle.

“Wilder!” I snapped, glaring at my former crush. “Watch it.”

Quinn turned and whipped his thick, dirty blond locks out of his eyes. A few weeks ago, that hair toss would have made my knees buckle. Now it just made me want to give him a haircut.

“Sorrrrry, Simon.” He grinned and released the football in an effortless throw. It sailed toward the front of the bus.

I rolled my eyes and refocused on the girls. “Mols. You’ve got all the supplies, right?”

Molly stared straight ahead, her strawberry-glossed lips slightly parted. “Did you guys see that throw?”

“Molly. Focus.” I snapped my fingers just inches from her nose. “Supplies.”

“Got ’em.” She lifted a generic-looking backpack that used to belong to her half-brother, Nate, before he went to college. It was black, plain, and totally boring. In other words, inconspicuous. “Everything’s here.”

“Okay. Okay.” I glanced nervously at each of the girls. “Thank you guys for helping out.” This plan had to work. If it didn’t… the thought alone was enough to make me want to cry. Or stuff Quinn Wilder’s football down Stevie’s throat.

“Obv.” Molly looped arms with me and rested her head on my shoulder. “She’s toast, Kace.”

“Oh. Am I interrupting anything?”

I looked up to see Paige standing in the aisle, squinting suspiciously through her foggy lenses.

“Apart from a perfectly nice bus ride?” Molly studied her nail beds.

“Uh, no. ’Course not.” I elbowed Mols and crossed my legs. There was no way Paige would let us go through with our plan if she found out about it. “How’s it going with the pistachios?”

“Pretty good.” Paige gripped the tops of the seats on both sides of the aisle and leaned in, like she was doing a push-up.

“Awesome,” I said encouragingly. Paige’s wide-eyed innocence, the way she was so concerned about winning and being so good at the same time, made me feel a little guilty about what I was about to do. But then I caught another glimpse of Stevie resting her head on Zander’s shoulder. Moment over.

The Oceanarium was an expansive pavilion with high ceilings and spotlights positioned over the turquoise waters of the tank. Silver stadium-style bleachers curved halfway around the tank, facing a wall of windows overlooking Lake Michigan.

“Come along, students, the show will begin in a few moments.” Finnster led the class to our seats in the top three rows of the bleachers, past a few retirees and fanny-pack-wearing tourists. Trainers in wet suits were perched on the fake rocks edging the tank. “Please take out your class journals, and be sure to make note of your observations during the show.” Finnster crossed her legs, revealing the ankles of her bunchy tan support stockings.

“Come on.” Molly grabbed my hand and dragged me to the seats next to Quinn, Aaron, and Jake in the second row. Nessa and Liv slipped in behind me, and Paige sat next to Jilly Lindstrom on the top row. Stevie led Zander to the very end of the row, away from the rest of the class.

“You know what would actually make this show cool?” Quinn started up again. “If they put hungry sharks in the tank, too.”

“Quinn!” Molly shrieked, her face a combination of disgust and curiosity. “That’s inhumane,” she informed him with a sultry flick of her bangs. “Don’t you ever read the side of the tuna fish can?”

“Bloodbath.” Jake punched Quinn’s shoulder. “Epic.”

“I’m for real, dudes,” Quinn insisted. “If I planned these trips, man—”

“Only you don’t, Quinn.” Paige ran a hand through her bob, making her bangs stick out in a million directions. “The student council makes the big decisions, while you’re busy playing paper football. So let it. Go.”

If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I would have been semi-impressed with Paige.

Quinn’s jaw tensed. “I could do a way better job than those losers.”

“Those losers,” Paige said slowly, “do more for this school than you ever have.”

“What, like getting rid of all the good vending machines and planning lame field trips?” Quinn shot back. “Nice work.”

Everyone stopped talking and stared at Paige and Quinn.

“OMG. This is even better than dolphins.” Liv’s lemon tea–scented breath was hot on my ear.

“Whatever. I wouldn’t expect you to get it, Wilder.” Paige’s voice started to waver.

“Gimme a break. I get it. And to prove I get it? I”—he turned around to face the rest of the class—“am running for eighth-grade class president.”

“Duuuude!” Jake and Aaron started punching Quinn. Molly golf-clapped. And Paige looked like she wanted to take a running leap into the dolphin tank. On Finnster’s other side, Imran Bhatt, Paige’s main competition for president, buried his face in his hands. Everyone else pulled out their phones. Quinn’s nomination would be trending on Twitter before the first dolphin backflip.

“Students!” Finnster clapped. “Quiet, please!”

At least I thought that was what she was saying. I couldn’t actually hear her. But I did see Nessa beam me a look that said: No diversion necessary.

“You ready?” I whispered to Molly, stealing one last glance at Zander and Stevie. Zander was laughing and fiddling with the leather cuff bracelet on Stevie’s wrist. The same way he used to fiddle with mine.

“Let’s do this.” Molly’s voice was thick with determination.

I composed a quick text to Stevie on Liv’s phone. I had to get her away from Zander so she wouldn’t have an alibi.

HINT HINT. U HAVE A HUUGE TEAR IN THE BACK OF UR PANTS.

Stevie looked down at her phone and stiffened, then rushed out of the bleachers toward the ladies’ room, covering her butt with her slouchy messenger bag.

Molly snickered, then hooked the backpack over her shoulder. And while the rest of the class clustered around Quinn Wilder, the four of us slipped unnoticed from the bleachers and headed for the glowing EXIT sign.