Cody began his stakeout the next morning outside the entrance to the York Middle gym, next to the gleaming trophy case that proclaimed the excellence of the school’s students in both academics and athletics.

The bell for third period had rung moments earlier, and now the hallways were deserted. As he waited, his eyes came to rest on a big wall display proclaiming, PHYSICAL FITNESS: IT’S FOR EVERYONE! Cody grunted with amusement, seeing as how he was missing his own gym class right now.

He was amazed at how calm he felt. Just a month ago, his palms would have been sweaty and his heart would have been pounding just thinking about what he planned to do. But not now. Now he was too angry to be afraid. Too angry even to be nervous, for that matter.

He glanced at the clock on the wall: 10:04. The boy is late as always, Cody thought. But he’ll be here any minute. Heck, he loves gym. After all, that’s where he does some of his best work—well, at least in the locker room.

From somewhere down the corridor, Cody heard the faint sound of footsteps. It was him, he could tell right away. There was something distinctive about the sound of Timberland boots shuffling along the tile floor, as if the wearer couldn’t be bothered with actually picking up each foot and placing it in front of the other, the way most people walked.

The footsteps drew closer and closer. Cody tossed his backpack into one of the two alcoves that flanked the gym doors and quickly rehearsed what he was about to say.

A solitary figure dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans turned the corner.

There he was: Dante Rizzo.

His eyes widened when he saw Cody.

“Parker! What are you doing here?” he said. For an instant, he seemed wary. Then he said, “I’m surprised they even let you in school after what you did.”

“We need to talk,” Cody said quietly.

He could see from Dante’s demeanor that the big guy was no longer nervous around him. Guess the effects of acting like you’re crazy last only so long on bullies, Cody thought. Or maybe Dante figures I’m already in so much trouble, I wouldn’t dare start anything here.

“Nuthin’ to talk about,” Dante said. “Shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you, Parker. Didn’t your mama ever teach you that?”

Cody pointed at him and said, “You put that cell phone in my binder.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dante said. He reached for the locker room door, but Cody stepped in front of him.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Cody said sharply.

Dante took a step back, surprised by Cody’s tone. But his trademark sneer returned quickly.

“I’d love to continue this conversation,” Dante said, “but just because you’re blowing off gym class doesn’t mean an honor student like myself can.”

Now Cody stepped forward until he was inches from Dante’s face.

“I just want you to admit it, that’s all,” Cody said, his voice rising. “I want you to admit that you tried to frame me. And that you’ve been stealing stuff from school. And giving it to your brothers to sell.”

Dante glanced around quickly, but the hall was deserted. From inside the gym, they could hear the sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floors and basketballs bouncing off rims.

“That’s some imagination you’ve got, Parker,” Dante said. He folded his arms across his chest and smiled defiantly.

“It’s not my imagination,” Cody said. “I saw your brothers selling stuff from their Jeep. And they saw me too. So you put that phone in my binder to make people think I’m the one doing all the stealing.”

Dante clapped sarcastically. “You got it all figured out, huh?” he said. “You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?”

“I want to hear you admit it,” he said, poking a finger in Dante’s chest. “I want to hear you say I’m right.”

Dante slapped Cody’s finger away from his chest. His eyes flashed angrily and he pushed Cody into the wall. Cody winced in pain. He could feel panic rising in his throat. Uh-oh, he thought. Now what do I do?

They heard the sound of running in the hallway. Seconds later, Jordy, Willie, and Connor came careening around the corner.

It was hard to say who was more shocked, Cody or Dante.

“Is there a problem here?” Willie said as the three boys came to a stop and glared at Dante.

Cody breathed a sigh of relief and tried to stop the shaking in his legs. Quickly, he turned back to Dante.

“Admit it!” Cody yelled, poking him again. “Just say you did it!”

Dante looked like a cornered animal. “Leave me alone,” he snarled.

“NOT UNTIL YOU SAY IT!”

“You heard the man,” said Jordy.

“We’re tired of your crap,” said Connor. “It’s time for you to come clean.”

Dante’s eyes darted nervously from one boy to another.

“Okay, okay,” he said in a low voice. “I put the stupid cell phone on you.”

“I knew it!” said Cody. “You’ve been stealing all this stuff, and you wanted me to go down for it!”

“That’s really sick, dude,” said Willie.

“Wait a minute,” said Dante, holding up his hands. “I didn’t steal anything else.”

“Yeah, like we’re going to believe that,” said Jordy.

“Believe whatever you want. I’m outta here.”

Dante tried again to pull open the locker room door, but Cody put all his weight against it.

“Why bother pretending anymore?” said Cody. “It’s over. We know the truth.”

“My guess is he’s trying to protect someone.…” said Connor.

“Someone named Vincent and Nick, perhaps?” said Jordy.

“Can’t exactly blame him,” Willie added. “I wouldn’t want to be on their bad side.”

At this point Cody saw a change come over Dante. He got that haunted look in his eyes that Cody had seen a couple of times before.

“It was them!” Dante hissed. “Not me. I didn’t take the stuff, I swear. I just…” He gulped, maybe to hold back tears. “My brothers said if anyone found out, they would mess me up and say I did it!”

Now he was breathing hard, almost panting, and his face was going pale. It reminded Cody of how he felt when Dante had him in a stranglehold. This time Dante was doing it to himself.

The boys stood there, not knowing what to do, while Dante bent over for a minute, trying to catch his breath and collect himself.

Finally he straightened up and wiped sweat off his brow with his sleeve. His expression had changed yet again. The sneer was back.

“What difference does it make if I tell you?” he said. “Who’s going to believe a bunch of losers like you?”

Cody stared at him for several seconds. Then he looked off to his left and said softly, “Did you get all that?”

Puzzled, Dante followed Cody’s gaze.

He watched as a stooped figure wearing gym shorts, a tight T-shirt, and battered Chuck Taylor sneakers stepped out of the alcove.

Dante’s jaw dropped. It was Coach Michael T. Lombardi.

“My students always want to know how old I am,” Coach Mike said with a sad smile. “I’m seventy-two. But my hearing is still great. And I heard all I needed to hear.”