Get Even (Don’t Get Mad)

OLIVIA SCANNED THE QUAD, TRYING TO LOOK CASUAL. THE outdoor area teemed with groups of students enjoying lunch on a sunny Monday afternoon, and the air was filled with carefree giggles and chatter. It was a relaxed atmosphere for everyone except the four members of DGM.

Kitty sat on the edge of a planter beneath one of the enormous elm trees that dotted the grassy landscape, joined by Mika and several of their volleyball teammates. She seemed calm, but Olivia noted she avoided looking in her direction. Bree and John leaned against the wall of the science building, watching the crowd with their usual aloofness, but even from the other side of the quad, Olivia could see Bree’s foot tapping nervously against the concrete. Only Margot was nowhere in sight. She was scouting Ronny’s location, and as Olivia sat on the bench, sipping her diet soda, she kept her eye out for Margot’s signal, which would put the plan into motion.

“Is that all you’re eating for lunch?” Jezebel asked.

Olivia’s attention was pulled back to the lunch table, where Peanut had laid six celery sticks on a napkin and portioned out the contents of two slabs of low-calorie cheese spread among them. She topped each with a sprinkle of fleur de sel, produced from a tiny noncarcinogenic glass container, and a sprig of parsley.

Peanut picked up the nearest celery boat. “Yes. Mom says it’s the perfect balance of negative calories and good fats.”

Olivia was officially concerned about Peanut’s newest diet. “Won’t you be hungry in like an hour?”

“Mom says hunger pains are good.” Peanut took a dainty bite, chewed it at least a dozen times, then swallowed.

“I don’t know,” Olivia said. “I’m not sure that’s good for you.”

Peanut glanced at Olivia’s midsection. “Not all of us were born looking like a ballerina.”

“Yeah,” Jezebel said. “Some of you were born looking like a sumo wrestler.”

“Ha, ha,” Peanut mocked. She pointed at the prepackaged salad covered in cheese and thick dressing that sat in front of Jezebel. “Do you have any idea how many calories are in that thing?”

“Don’t know,” Jezebel said, taking a massive bite. “Don’t care.”

Peanut tucked her long, straight hair behind each ear. “Whatever. But I don’t want to hear you bitch when Mr. Cunningham casts you in a male part again.”

Olivia started. She’d forgotten that Mr. Cunningham would be announcing the play in fourth period.

“Better a man,” Jezebel said, her low voice more masculine than usual, “than no part at all.”

“Ladies!” A gleam of braces and a whiff of strong and probably needless aftershave were the only harbingers of the skinny sophomore who spun onto the bench between Peanut and Jezebel. He slipped an arm around both of them. “How are my first, fourth, and twelfth favorite juniors?”

“Hey, Ed.” Olivia couldn’t keep her eyes from lingering on his bulging backpack as she wondered what contraband he was peddling today.

“Twelfth?” Peanut pouted. “Which of us is twelfth?”

Jezebel refused to look at him. “Ed the Head. What ladies’ room did you crawl out of?”

Ed ignored her. “I’ve got a new shipment of junk food.” He glanced at Olivia and pumped his eyebrows. “Including those salted caramel chocolate balls someone is addicted to.”

Olivia gave Ed the Head a look that said, “Shut up before I pull your tongue out.” The last thing she wanted was for Jezebel and Peanut to find out about her junk food addiction. She’d never hear the end of Peanut’s lectures against processed food and Jezebel’s warnings that someday Olivia would get fat from all the crap she ate.

“Or if you lovelies are all maintaining your girlish figures,” he said, changing the subject, “I’ve also got a new batch of homework. Fresh off the nerd press. If you don’t have the cashola, I also accept”—he leaned into Jezebel—“sexual favors.”

“Ew?” Olivia said.

Jezebel elbowed him in the ribs. “Do you have any mind bleach to wipe that image from my brain?”

Ed the Head grinned broadly, flashing his full mouth of steel. “It’s called tequila. And I’m all out. Sold the last of it to your mom.”

Before Jezebel could formulate a response, Amber bounced onto the bench next to her. “What is that?” She sniffed the air, then wrinkled her nose like she’d entered a raw sewage treatment plant. “It smells like . . . dweeb.”

“That’s Mr. Dweeb to you.” Ed the Head straightened his shoulders. “Don’t you know it’s the age of the geek?”

Amber’s gaze was cold as ice. “Why are you here?”

A formidable shadow fell across the lunch table. “Yeah, why are you here?”

Ed the Head leaped to his feet as Rex, Kyle, and Tyler ringed the bench.

“Rex! Dude. Buddy.” Ed the Head twittered nervously.

Rex folded his arms across his chest. “You have ten seconds.”

“Er, right.” Ed the Head eyed Kyle and Tyler. “I’ve been looking for you guys all weekend.” He held out his hand expectantly. “Pony up.”

Without a word, Kyle and Tyler reached for their wallets. Each fished out several bills and reluctantly slapped them into Ed the Head’s palm.

Rex turned to Kyle. “What the fuck is going on?”

Ed the Head shoved the bills into his pocket and started to back away from the table. “Just a little bookmaking. I was running ten to one odds on DGM going balls out in response to our fearless leader’s assembly Friday. Kyle, Tyler, and several of your dutiful ’Maine Men bet against it. Oopsie.”

Rex balled up his fists and started after the retreating bookie. “You little shit.”

Olivia had seen enough. She stepped in front of him and laid her hand on his chest. “Let him go, Rex.”

Ed the Head saluted. “I am considerably out of here.”

It took a few seconds for Rex to wrest his gaze away from the rapidly departing figure of Ed the Head, but eventually his eyes strayed to Olivia’s hand.

“Fine,” he said softly. His body relaxed like a rubber band gone limp. “You know as well as I do, Liv, that I’d do anything you want.”

Olivia snatched her hand away. Seriously? He was flirting with her right in front of his girlfriend?

And Amber didn’t miss a second of it. Her expensively crafted nose was wrinkled in disgust as Olivia returned to the bench. “Going after Ed the Head, Livvie? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll bring Donté running back to you.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Rex said. He reached out to massage Amber’s shoulders, but she jerked away from him. “Come on, why are you pissed at me?”

Amber clenched her jaw but refused to answer.

“I’m not the bad guy here,” Rex said sharply. “We need to focus on the real enemy.”

“Which is?” Amber said without looking at him.

“DGM.” Rex leaned back against the lunch table. “We weren’t tough enough on them last year, and look what happened. First week back and bam! They hit us.” He slammed his fist into the tabletop. “We need to take matters into our own hands. Do whatever it takes to protect the school.”

Olivia didn’t like the anger in Rex’s voice.

“How?” Kyle asked.

“We can start by targeting possible suspects.” Rex stared across the courtyard. “Someone who consistently breaks the rules, even brags about it. Someone who has absolutely no respect for the name Bishop DuMaine and what it stands for.”

Olivia followed his line of sight across the courtyard to Bree.