Hiro sat at their usual table and positioned herself where she could watch the cafeteria entrance. Strange how she still felt out of place, even after going here for over a year. Her mom thought the move would be good for her. Mom could be near Gordy’s and Cooper’s moms—her best friends. And Hiro would have Coop and Gordy—and she’d make new friends. They would be just what she needed. That was the plan.
But all Hiro had wanted back then was to be alone. Her hero died. The last thing she needed was to make friends with a bunch of chirpy girls. All their laughing seemed totally out of place. The whole world should have mourned. The way she saw it, the world tilted a bit more on its axis the moment her dad died. And it was never coming back.
Maybe she pushed the other girls away. But the truth is, they kept their distance, too. She just wished Lunk would keep his distance.
As it turned out, it wasn’t new friends she needed. It was the old ones that pulled her through. She’d known Coop and Gordy since they’d been kids. And they were the ones who’d really helped her through those dark days.
And Frank had helped her in his own way, too. Why do the good men die? Dads who love their kids and are out there trying to protect people. Business owners who give struggling widows real help and a chance. Frank didn’t deserve to die. He gave Hiro’s mom more than a job. He gave her hope. Hiro’s stomach felt totally messed up. She could feel a lump forming in her throat.
She had to pull herself together. Breaking down in tears wasn’t exactly the best way to blend in. She studied the room. To her left the hot lunch line snaked into the cafeteria. She never took hot lunch, and today it smelled like pizza. Long paper banners with the hand painted words “Go Chargers” lined the walls. Right now she’d like to charge right over to the police station and tell them everything.
Candy Mertz, Lissa Bowens, and Katie Barbour sauntered with their trays and sat at the adjoining table. They were deep in conversation—probably about some boy. Mertz and her flirts. If they saw Hiro, they didn’t show it. It was like she was invisible. That ought to come in handy when I’m a cop, she thought.
Hiro watched Coop enter the cafeteria with Jake, Kelsey, and Eliza, but he peeled away when the others stopped to join the hot lunch line. Gordy appeared out of nowhere and walked with Coop to her table, and they sat across from her.
Cooper pulled Hiro’s English textbook out of his backpack and placed it on the table. “Thanks for the loan.”
“Quick thinking on your part,” Hiro said. “But I don’t know if our luck can hold.
Coop tapped his backpack. “I picked up another book.”
Hero knew exactly what that meant. “You stole someone’s book?”
Gordy immediately checked his own pack. “Better not have been mine.”
“Jake Mickel loaned it to me.” Cooper put a finger to his lips. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Gordy snorted a laugh and pulled his sandwich out of his bag. Two sandwiches actually. One peanut butter. The other jelly. They never mixed until they hit his stomach.
Just watching him made Hiro’s stomach feel even worse. She pulled out her sandwich and debated eating it or not.
She pushed it away. “Look guys,” she said. “The police are going to figure this out. They’re not stupid, you know. They’ve already narrowed their search to our school—and to Miss Ferrand’s classes.”
Cooper shook his head. “They’re fishing.”
“They’re in the right pond.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Like you said. They aren’t stupid. Borrowing the book is just buying us time until the police catch the men who did that to Frank.”
Gordy shifted a mouthful to one cheek. “They’re goons.”
“Goons?” Hiro shook her head.
He swallowed. “It’s a perfectly good word for them. You’d rather I called them thugs?”
“Both a little dated, Gordy.” She pictured Lunk’s dad. “How about we call them scum?”
Cooper leaned in. “Goons. Thugs. Elvis. Mr. Clown. Scum. Doesn’t matter what we call them. We just need to stay clear of them.”
Hiro used her sandwich to hide her mouth. Not that she really thought anybody would try to read her lips, but it certainly worked. “If your cop theory is right, Elvis and the Clown could be right here in the building looking for us.” She took a bite and put her sandwich down.
“Looking for me,” Coop said, “You two got out in time. He was so focused on me, I don’t think he saw either of you riding across the street.”
“And the principal was looking for a guy,” Gordy said. “You’re in the clear, Hiro.”
Hiro took an orange segment out of her lunch bag and tapped it against her lips. “But what if Mr. Clown did see us riding off?” She stared off toward the exit. “He’d be looking for three kids sitting together, just like us.”
Gordy looked as if he were about to venture into a haunted house—alone. “You think we should split up?”
“What I’d really like is to lock arms together, walk to the nearest policeman and turn ourselves in,” Hiro said.
Cooper looked like he wanted to say something, but caught himself. She could see the frustration on his face easy enough.
“I didn’t sleep last night—and I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight,” she said. “I’ve felt sick to my stomach ever since they hit Frank. What if they catch up with us?” For an instant she imagined seeing Lunk’s dad show up at her door. Heard his snicker.
“They’re looking for me,” Cooper said. “Just me. I’m the one they saw. The only one.”
She looked him square in the eyes. “I’m afraid they’re going to find you.”
Gordy leaned in close. “You’re sure there’s nothing to tie your backpack directly to you?”
“If there was, I’d be at the police station by now.”
Hiro raised her eyebrows. “No fingerprints?”
Cooper stopped chewing.
“I’ll bet the police found some clear ones on that book.” Hiro picked at her sandwich.
“What good will that do unless they fingerprint me to confirm a match?”
Gordy looked from Cooper to Hiro. “Can they do that? Can they fingerprint you?” His eyebrows disappeared underneath drapes of straight blonde hair covering his forehead. “We’re too young.
Right?”
Hiro nibbled at the crust. “They’d have to get permission from a parent.”
“So that’s it then.” Gordy angled the rest of his peanut butter sandwich into his mouth. “Tell your parents not to agree to it.”
Hiro gave a little snort.
Gordy’s back slumped a little more. He took a bite.
Wiping her mouth with a napkin, Hiro gave Cooper a sideways glance. “And then there’s the DNA evidence.”
By the look on his face, he hadn’t thought of that.
“Your sweatshirt. One piece of hair in that hood and you’re pinned to the crime scene. It’s probably at the crime lab right now,” Hiro said.
Swallowing, Gordy looked from Cooper to Hiro. “But still, they’d have to get a DNA sample from Cooper to match it. Right?”
Hiro reached across the table and plucked a hair from Gordy’s head.
“Hey,” Gordy said, batting her hand away. “What’s that all about?”
“Do you honestly think the police can’t get a DNA sample if they really want it?” She looked at Cooper, wishing he’d understand, hoping he’d rethink the whole strategy of staying silent. “You’re in danger, Cooper. We all are, but you especially. Our Code of Silence isn’t going to keep the things you left behind from telling them everything they need to know.”