Principal Bates was always extremely punctual. She marched into the office at 7:30 a.m. and out at 6 p.m. every single day. Emma, Harriet, and Marty watched and waited for her to walk through the doors of the school lobby, flip on the lights to the main office, and unlock her own inner office. Most of the teachers and staff wouldn’t be arriving till eight and that gave them plenty of time to sneak in and out.

“You see? Right on schedule!” Emma said, pushing Marty toward the cafeteria. “Breakfast is served to early-arrival students at seven forty-five, so you go hang out in there for fifteen minutes.”

“I wonder if they have French toast,” Marty said, scurrying off.

“What do I do?” Harriet asked anxiously.

“You hold the donuts and wait for me to go see if she’s in her office,” Emma instructed. “I’ll signal for you when Marty gets her to leave. And don’t squish the donuts! They need to be perfect.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Harriet joked and saluted her. “I will guard these donuts with my life.”

Emma tiptoed down the hall and poked her head inside the main office. Ms. Bates was in there, all right. Her light was on, and when she pressed her ear to the door, she could make out the clicking of her fingers typing on her keyboard. She ducked in the coat closet, waiting for Marty to come in and do his part.

At exactly 7:45, he walked into the office and knocked on the principal’s door.

“Yes?” Ms. Bates asked, opening it.

“Um, come quick, Principal Bates. There’s a funny smell in the cafeteria.”

Not a funny smell, a burning smell! Couldn’t he keep that straight?

“What kind of a smell, Martin?” Ms. Bates asked. “Can you be a little more specific? It might be the egg frittata.”

Marty panicked and froze. He couldn’t think of what he was supposed to say. Thankfully, Ms. Bates was curious.

“Okay,” she told him, “let’s go check out this funny smell.”

They left the office and Emma jumped into action. “Harriet!” she shouted for her friend down the hallway. “Hurry up!”

Harriet raced down the hall carrying the donuts—then tripped over her shoelace and landed with a splat right on them.

“Oh, no!” Emma cried, prying them out from under her. She opened the box to reveal twelve flattened pastries, and the frosting and sprinkles were all stuck to the lid. “They look like pancakes, not donuts!”

“I’m sorry!” Harriet apologized. “It was an accident.”

Emma had no choice but to put the slightly mangled box on Ms. Bates’s desk along with the note. She was making sure it was right in front of her computer, when she heard footsteps coming.

Oh, no! She’s coming back! Emma looked for a place to hide, but there was no time. With nowhere else to go, Emma ducked under the principal’s desk. She heard someone enter the room. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. What if she got caught? She held her breath as two large feet wearing black sneakers came into view. Emma’s brain snapped to attention. Those didn’t look like Ms. Bates’s feet! Emma had never seen her principal come to school in sneakers. But, before Emma could peek out, the mystery person walked up, dropped something on the desk, and hurried out.

Just as she was pondering, she heard a second set of footsteps coming—this time high-heeled ones! Now those sounded like Ms. Bates’s!

The principal walked into her office and stopped in her tracks. She hovered over her desk, and Emma heard her open the box and start munching on a donut.

What if she was trapped here all morning? Where was Harriet when she needed her? She heard another knock on the door and a familiar voice.

“Principal Bates, there’s a sink overflowing in the boys’ bathroom. You should go see, quick!”

“What is going on in this school today?” Ms. Bates said, frustrated. Her mouth was full of cinnamon cruller. “I haven’t been able to sit down at my desk once without being dragged right back out of here!” Emma heard her heels march across the floor.

“Coast is clear,” said the voice. “You can come out, now.” It was Jax!

He held a hand out to help her up from under the desk.

“Thanks,” she said, slightly annoyed that it was him—and not Harriet—who had come to her rescue. “How did you know I was in here?”

“I saw Harriet wipe out on her way down the hall and you run into the office. I figured you were stuck in here, scheming again.”

“Is there really a problem with the boys’ bathroom?” she asked him.

“Yeah, the sink is running. I turned it on.”

Emma laughed—then realized he might get in trouble. “But what if Ms. Bates gets mad that there’s no emergency?”

“Well, I had to take that risk to help out a friend, right?”

A friend. So they were back to being friends.

“You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it,” Emma said—and she meant it.

“So you left Ms. Bates flowers and donuts?” Jax said, checking out the desk.

“Flowers? I didn’t leave her flowers.” But there they were, a dozen red roses in a vase with a note attached. It read, That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet, and had no signature.

“I don’t believe it!” Emma exclaimed. “Ms. Bates has an actual secret admirer!”

Emma thought back on the first set of feet she saw when she was hiding in the office. They must have belonged to the secret admirer, because there were no flowers on the desk before he entered the room. Emma only knew a few things about Ms. Bates’s potential suitor: He had big feet—about a size 13 like her brother, Luc—and wore black sneakers with bright yellow laces.

“It shouldn’t be hard to find the guy,” Marty told her. “You just have to check out all the shoes of all the male teachers at Austen.”

So that’s exactly what she, Harriet, Marty, and Jax did—all day long, they peeked under desks and snooped inside closets. A few had black sneakers, but none with those distinctive neon-yellow laces.

“It’s like looking for the princess who fits the glass slipper,” Harriet reflected. “Although it’s a prince who fits the running shoe.”

“It’s more like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Marty said. “We have nothing to go on.”

But Emma had her hunch. She ran up to the third-floor computer lab—Mr. Goddard was the obvious choice for her principal’s secret admirer. She came in the room and saw he was wearing shiny black oxfords similar to the ones her dad wore to work—not running shoes. So it couldn’t be him.

“Can I help you, Emma?” he asked.

“I was just wondering how things went with Ms. Bates after our conversation.”

Mr. Goddard seemed surprised. “How did you know I spoke with Ms. Bates?”

“Um, just a guess,” Emma said, trying to cover. “It wasn’t like I saw you go in her office or anything.”

Mr. Goddard smiled ever so slightly. “Our talk went just fine, thank you,” was all he would share with her. Ugh, fixing up grown-ups was a lot harder than she thought! Why wouldn’t they cooperate?

Later in the day, she noticed Ms. Bates walking down the hall to the library with a smooshed chocolate sprinkle donut in her hand. She couldn’t help but stare.

“Is there a problem, Emma?” the principal asked, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.

“Nope, no problem.” Emma tried to smile and look innocent. The last thing she needed was for Ms. Bates to suspect her of the donut delivery!

At the end of the day, Emma had practically given up on finding the mystery man who had left flowers—until she saw Mr. Goddard leaving school in a running jacket and sweatpants. There, on his feet, were the black sneakers with neon-yellow laces!

“You!” Emma couldn’t help blurting out. “Those are your sneakers!”

Mr. Goddard looked down at his feet. “Yes, I power walk to and from work. It’s how I squeeze exercise into my workday.”

Emma didn’t know what else to say—she couldn’t tell him she knew he was Ms. Bates’s secret admirer. She couldn’t admit that she had been hiding under the desk and saw him.

“Well, they’re very nice sneakers,” she said, thinking quickly. “I might get my dad ones just like it for his birthday.”

Mr. Goddard nodded. “Well, they’re quite comfortable—and they’re on sale at Sports-R-Us.” He took off down the street, leaving Emma standing outside the school.

“Do I have you to thank for my flowers and donuts?” Ms. Bates said, sneaking up behind her.

“What? Huh? N-n-n-no,” Emma stuttered.

“Really?” Ms. Bates pressed her. “You didn’t put the idea into . . . anyone’s head?”

Emma felt her face flush. “Well, I might have mentioned something. . . .”

“I thought so,” Ms. Bates said. “Have a good evening, Emma.”

Emma had to ask—she needed to know! “So do you know who your secret admirer is?”

“I do. He told me just before he left. He didn’t want to keep me in suspense.”

And?! Emma searched her principal’s face for a clue: Did this mean she and Mr. Goddard were now a couple?

“If you’re wondering, Mr. Goddard will help me chaperone the Sadie Hawkins Dance. But it’s not a date—it’s two colleagues going together, just keeping each other company.”

“That’s great, Ms. Bates!” Emma said. “I’m so happy for you.”

“You know what, Emma? I’m happy, too. It will be nice to have someone to talk to.”

Ms. Bates said she was happy, and that was all Emma ever wanted to accomplish—even if it meant destroying a dozen donuts in the process.