I don’t do a lot of running. It’s surprisingly tiring. But determination must count for something, because we gain on Rolf. When I judge that we’re close enough, I slow to a fast walk.
“Hey, you. Rolf.” I pause to draw breath.
He turns around and squints at us. “Yeah?”
“I want to talk to you,” I say.
“Yeah?” he says again. His squint intensifies. “Do I know you?”
“No,” I reply. “You do not. But I believe I know you.”
He removes his hands from his pockets. “Izzat right?”
“Yes, indeed.” I puff out my chest. “And I believe that you’ve done a terrible thing.”
His brows form a knot. “What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about Ella Eckles’s sketchbook.” I glare fiercely. “You took it. And I’m here to get it back.”
“Ella…what?” The knot on his brow deepens. “Wait a minute. You’re not calling me a thief, are you?”
I maintain my glare. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing. And I’d prefer that you don’t play dumb with me.”
It’s possible that, like my brain, other parts of my body know things that I don’t. I certainly don’t tell myself to dodge sideways. But I dodge just in time to avoid Rolf’s swing. Then, as if it has a mind of its own, my arm takes a swing at him. It misses by quite a lot, but I don’t have time to worry about that, because here comes another jab from Rolf.
I manage to avoid that one too. Then my other arm gets in on the action. It swings way up, and on the way down it almost connects with Rolf’s fist. Suddenly, both of my arms are whirling like the rotor blades on a helicopter. Not exactly like that, because my circles are vertical whereas a helicopter’s are horizontal. But the action is similar.
As near as I can tell, Rolf’s arms are doing the same thing. It’s terribly shocking. I’m forced to close my eyes. Occasionally our fists bounce off each other, and it really hurts. I’m becoming exhausted, but have no idea how to make it stop.
And then a voice roars, “Enough!” I feel a pressure on my forehead. My arms drop to my sides like dead things, and I crack open my eyes.
Shahid stands between us with one hand pressed against my forehead and the other against Rolf’s. His giraffe arms force us farther apart as he asks, “Do you two have any idea how stupid you look?”
My brain refuses to picture it.
Rolf croaks, “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Especially not Ella,” I say.
“Who,” Rolf demands, “is this Ella?”
“Hah,” I say. It’s impossible to form a fierce glare with Shahid’s hand pressed to my face, but I try. “She’s the girl you think ratted you out. So you stole her sketchbook for revenge.”
“Say what?” Rolf rolls one eyeball up toward Shahid. “Is this little dude crazy?”
“I’m bigger than you,” I tell him. “Did you or did you not set off the stink bomb in school last week?”
Rolf shrugs. “Yeah. So?”
“Did you or did you not get caught by Principal Garnet?” I wriggle to increase my glare power and add, “Shahid, would you kindly remove your hand?”
“Are you going to start flailing again?”
Together, Rolf and I say, “No.”
“Fine.” Shahid’s tone is grudging. “All you have to do is back away.”
I can’t believe I didn’t realize that. I back beyond Shahid’s reach and give my head a shake. I look over to see Rolf doing the same thing. For some reason, this annoys me. “Well?” I ask him. “Principal Garnet caught you, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. But I’m pretty sure it was that troll in the can who told him.”
The troll in the can. I ponder that for a moment before asking, “And you think I’m crazy?”
He rolls his eyes. “You know who I mean. Everyone knows about the guy in the stall. He practically lives there.”
I suddenly get it. “You mean Grunt?”
Rolf shrugs. “I don’t know his name. But he’s always in there, listening to other people’s business.” He wrinkles his nose. “And he never washes his hands.”
“I know,” Shahid moans. “It’s so disgusting.”
“Too right,” Rolf nods. “But whatever. I haven’t been at school since the bomb. Garnet suspended me for a week.”
I stare at Rolf for a moment. Then I find I can’t look at him. He’s telling the truth. I know he is. That means he couldn’t have been in the art room the next day. He didn’t steal anything. My mouth feels dry. I swallow.
“Rolf,” I mutter. “I owe you an apology. I thought—but I guess that was all in my head. Never mind. The point is, I don’t think you’re a thief anymore. I’m really sorry.”
He shrugs his thin shoulders. “Whatever, man. Sounds like you were trying to stick up for a friend. That’s cool.”
“Really?” I try for a smile. “Thanks. That’s very gracious of you.”
The knot forms on Rolf’s brow again. He looks from me to Shahid and he raises a finger. It’s his index finger this time, and he points it at us. “Here’s the deal. No one hears about this. We don’t talk about it ever. Especially not in the can. Okay? We all square?”
“Absolutely,” I say. “Square as square can be. Square as my mother’s squares. Like her brownies. I swear, she must measure them before she cuts and—”
“I got it,” Rolf says. “I’ve gotta go. I’m late for my paper route.” And he runs away.
Shahid looks at me until I finally look back.
“Now,” he says. “Now will you tell Ella the truth?”