What Happens After Midnight, page 8
“Well, he should be,” I said, now stalking across the grass. “This isn’t some…” I searched for the right phrase and, after a second, ironically found it. “This isn’t some silly prank.”
It took only three bounds for Tag to catch up to me. “Technically, it is,” he said. “So let’s embrace the silliness and lighten up a little.”
I turned on him, my voice sharp. “Lighten up a little?”
The Jester nodded merrily. “Yes, it’ll be easier if—”
The sound of a door swinging open brought our conversation to an abrupt halt. Tag and I both lurched as a deep and congested voice called, “Who’s out there?”
His words were slightly slurred.
Run! my muscles screamed, but Tag and I didn’t get the chance; the light from Bunker Hill’s high-powered lantern captured us in its beam almost immediately. It was big and bright, practically blinding.
“Miss Hopper, is that you?” Bunker asked from his front stoop. He was dressed in a black-and-gray smoking jacket with his flashlight in one hand and a tumbler of brown liquid in the other. Probably the bourbon my mom had recommended the other night.
Even though I’d run through this scenario earlier, my heart hammered and I could hear the blood pumping through my ears. Tag had told Alex to stay in the trees to avoid a second strike, and I’d mentioned Latin to keep him there…although truthfully, being Bunker’s students wouldn’t carry much weight (despite what dark academia dictated). I knew that. If we were caught, Latin wouldn’t save us. My surrogate grandfather would definitely call my mom.
“Do you trust me?” I whispered to Tag.
A heartbeat later, he’d threaded his fingers through mine. The movement was so smooth and effortless that I needed to pull away and stretch my tingling hand before finding his fingers again. My eyelids fluttered. The moment took me back to a different time—a better time.
We took several steps toward the cottage. “Yes, it’s me, Mr. Hill,” I said as if I weren’t shaking in my sneakers. I lifted an arm in greeting, and once Tag and I reached the base of the porch, I noticed our teacher’s disheveled white hair and the red rings around his weathered eyes.
“Now, Lily…” he began before he raised an intrigued brow at who was at my side. I moved closer to Tag, and Bunker let a small smile slip. “I know that young love has a mind of its own,” he said, bemused, “but don’t you think it’s a bit late for you and Mr. Swell to be taking in the moonlight together?” He squinted at his watch, as if to confirm Tag’s curfew had indeed come and gone. Part of me wondered if he knew when the boarders’ curfew actually was and if he even cared. He looked up and gave Tag a drunkenly solemn stare. “I assume the rumors are true? You and Miss Greenberg have said farewell?”
“Yes sir,” Tag said. “For the last time.”
Bunker raised his glass. “Then cheers.”
I felt Tag shift from one foot to the other, so I let go of his hand to casually rub the back of his neck. My heart twinged when he leaned into it; afterward, it was like he couldn’t find my hand fast enough. He’s nervous, I thought as our fingers intertwined again. He’s nervous about Bunker reporting us, about getting the damning second strike.
I squeezed tight to tell him it was okay. I had this handled.
“Well, then,” Bunker said, “it’s probably best that you two weren’t here earlier.” He sipped his drink. “It would’ve made for a rather awkward gathering.”
“Gathering?” Tag and I both asked.
“Oh, yes.” Another swig of bourbon. “President Rivera was here—”
I gasped. “Daniel? Daniel was here?”
“Indeed. He stopped by for a chat.”
“When?” I asked gravely as our teacher’s words sunk in, as every ounce of blood drained from my face. Daniel was another one of the seven “murderous” Latin students. He too was close with Bunker, though I knew Bunker found Daniel’s essays “contrived” (even if his grammar was perfect). “When was he here?”
Bunker studied his watch again. “This evening” was what he settled on, waving us off and swaying in place. His glass was almost empty.
Tag, back in control, moved to steady the old man. “Why don’t we get you inside, Mr. Hill? I heard you have a sinus infection?”
Bunker pinched his nose and nodded. However, I stayed where I was, watching through the window as Tag helped him into a worn leather armchair before disappearing into another part of the house. He returned with a glass of water. “Now, Taggart,” I heard Bunker say, his voice much too loud, “you and Lily be careful. Roger Harvey’s trainee is itching to make his first arrest. You’re ten days away from graduation, and I don’t want to see either of you mess it up! Lily’s not just our salutatorian, she’s our crown jewel.” He sighed. “And you…we both know what a time you’ve had. I want you to finish strong, son.”
Tag gave Bunker a wan smile and a pat on the shoulder. I also saw him mouth something, but his voice was too low to hear. When he reemerged from the cottage, all traces of the smile were gone, lips now in a flat line. “Do you want to punch the editor?” he said as we made eye contact and started walking resolutely toward the trees, where Alex and Manik waited. “Or should I?”
My voice trembled. “Do you think it’s true?”
Tag nodded. “He left his hat. His fucking Harvard hat was sitting on the coffee table.”
“Gentlemen do not wear hats indoors,” I remembered Bunker saying to the boys in Latin.
I gritted my teeth and picked up my pace. Tag upped his too. Our hand-holding was finished, our show over.
“Okay, what happened?” Alex said once we reached the copse of trees. “Where have you guys been?”
We ignored him. “Patel!” Tag all but barked. “Patel, where are you?”
Manik appeared from behind a tree, basically vibrating like Madame Hoffman’s toy poodles in December. “There you guys are. We were getting worried—”
I didn’t let him finish; instead, I stepped forward and surprised myself by poking him in the chest. “Where was Daniel, Manik?” Tag asked from behind me, his voice sounding somewhere between irked and infuriated. “Where was Daniel when you snuck out tonight?”
NINE
Manik’s eyes widened—or at least, I imagined they did. The trees were a whirl of darkness. “What?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Daniel,” Tag repeated. “Daniel Rivera? Your friend, fellow prefect, and our school president? Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
“Okay, seriously,” Alex tried again. “What happened?”
“Bunker happened!” I couldn’t help but snap, suddenly realizing why else the Jester had tapped Manik for tonight. It wasn’t only because he was the Almanac’s hardworking helmsman; he was also Daniel’s roommate, which made him perfect for recon. He could ensure nothing was amiss before the prank had officially begun.
Although something told me Tag hadn’t spelled that out for him.
“We hid the clue,” Tag started to explain. His tone was now precise, all business. “But Mr. Hill caught us afterward—” He dropped off, as if unsure whether to share the details about our encounter with Bunker. I waited with wavering lungs, only exhaling when he skipped over our showmance. I didn’t want to hear the word “pretend” leave his lips.
Even if that was what we’d been doing.
“That’s really what he said?” Alex asked once Tag had finished. “‘President Rivera stopped by for a chat this evening.’”
“Direct quote,” I confirmed.
Alex sucked in a breath. “Did you tell him, Manik?” he said. “Did you let anything slip?”
“No!” Manik exclaimed. “How could I? I had no idea about any of this! Once I accepted the prank bid, all I got was the email about wearing black and the midnight rendezvous. That’s it.”
“And that’s not at all telling,” Alex deadpanned, though no one laughed. I wanted to believe Manik, I did, but…
“Daniel likes to take walks,” I said, readjusting my baseball hat. “He goes on walks when he wants to clear his head.”
“What does he need to clear his head about?” Alex muttered to Tag. “He’s achieved nearly everything this school has to offer.”
Except valedictorian, I thought.
Blair had beaten him there.
I couldn’t hear what Tag muttered back, but even in the dark, I felt his eyes on me, and my heart rate hitched. Sometimes after we studied, Daniel asked me to join him on his meanders. He did most of the talking and I did most of the nodding along while keeping my hands in my pockets so he wouldn’t try holding one.
Sneaking out to take a moonlit stroll didn’t sound like Daniel, but it was late May. The end of senior year gave people incentive to take chances.
I mean, here I was.
“Manik, did you see Daniel?” Tag asked inquisitively.
“Of course,” he said. “We live together. Of course I saw him; I see him all the time.”
“No,” I said, taking more of a bad cop stance. We needed to get to the bottom of this. “He means did you see him tonight? Your rooms have an adjoining door, right? Did you see him brush his teeth? Climb into bed and close his eyes? Did you see Daniel before you left?”
Manik sighed. “No,” he admitted. “I didn’t. Our connecting door was closed because I lied that I was going to bed early, but Daniel needed to stay up to finish his English essay.” He coughed. “His light was off when I snuck out onto the fire escape, but I didn’t check if he was in his room or not.” He was quiet for a few seconds, guilty for a few seconds. “I’m sorry.”
Alex groaned while my stomach squirmed. There was a possibility Daniel was wandering campus—and that possibility, the possibility of running into him didn’t add to the thrill of tonight. It only made it more dangerous. “Maybe we should hide the rest of the clues tomorrow morning?” I gently suggested. “Our building access will have been restored, so we won’t need my mom’s keys—”
“But he’s asleep!” Manik insisted. “He has to be. I said his light was out when I left and now that I think about it, I remember hearing some snoring…”
After a second of deliberation, Alex snapped his fingers. “Alright, devil’s advocate,” he said. “Let’s say Manik is right that Daniel’s all tucked in for the night, snoring and hugging his teddy bear.” He took a breath. “Was Mr. Hill plastered, Lily? Like you predicted?”
“Um…” I thought of Bunker’s rumpled hair, red-ringed eyes, and bourbon-filled tumbler. “Pretty much.”
“Then what does ‘this evening’ really mean?” Alex posed. “He’s probably lost his sense of time. Daniel might’ve visited him at 8:30 or 9:00, and then it could’ve felt like you guys arrived right after he left. Minutes later…when it’s actually been hours.” He illuminated his phone to show that it was a little past 1:15. “What do you think?”
“I guess it’s plausible…” I began. Seniors had a 10:30 curfew, so Daniel could’ve stopped by on the later side. And Bunker had consulted his watch after catching Tag and me, undoubtedly unsure about the time.
Tag didn’t say anything. His silences were so loud that sometimes it was impossible to ignore him. You wanted to know what he was thinking.
Alex sighed. “Really, Taggart?”
“We have to check, Alexander. I don’t want to chance it.”
“Fine,” Alex gritted out, “but I have to tell you, I don’t have much confidence in that old fire escape’s weight-bearing capabilities…”
Over at Macalester House, the freshmen boys’ dorm, there was a rusty fire escape that led directly up to Daniel and Manik’s suite. “I can’t believe you haven’t had Buildings and Grounds dismantle it yet,” my mom had told Josh at dinner right before school started in August. “It’s practically an invitation for your prefects to sneak out or sneak others in.”
“I’m aware,” Josh said after finishing off his rack of ribs. “That’s why I chose two guys who wouldn’t even consider it. They’re too responsible.” He took a sip of beer. “And from what I can tell, they don’t exactly have the biggest social lives.”
“That’s not true,” I remembered saying. “Daniel Rivera was elected school president.”
“A vote that definitely prioritized competency over likability…” My mom shook her head, still disappointed for Alex.
Josh shrugged. “Even better. He’ll be too busy to get any action.”
“Josh!” my mom and I both exclaimed, and I thought something similar now. One—possibly two—prefects had snuck out of the dorm from right under his nose. The fire escape was right above his first-floor apartment!
“Alright, let’s go,” Alex said flatly. “Preferably with our fingers crossed.”
“No,” Tag said before anyone could move. “We’re not all doing this.”
Alex groaned. “Taggart, you just said you wanted—”
“Yes, he wants confirmation,” I blurted, surfing Tag’s wavelength. “But not all of us need to confirm that Daniel’s melatonin is doing its job.”
“Exactly.” Tag stepped closer to me. “Mack House is in the opposite direction, so everyone going will waste time. We’ll be completely off course.” He paused, then delivered the hard truth. “Manik, I think you should go check on Daniel and keep an eye on him.”
Manik squeaked. “Really? Me?”
“Yes, it makes the most sense.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, you live there.”
“But what if he catches me coming back?”
“Have an alibi ready,” Tag said, and I impulsively knocked his knuckles with mine. It was an old code between us. Two knocks meant, You’re funny.
Tag flicked my arm. Thanks.
Manik was silent but contemplative. Come on, I thought, holding in a breath. Come on, Manik. You’d be doing this for the greater good of the team…
“Wait,” Alex said. “Don’t send him yet—we might be overthinking this.” He laughed. “All we have to do is check Daniel’s location on the Snap Map.”
“Daniel doesn’t have Snapchat,” I said, hoping everyone else had set their profiles to Ghost Mode. We couldn’t have a fellow student randomly checking the map in the middle of the night and not seeing us in our houses.
“Do you even know me?” Alex said when Tag confirmed that everyone was invisible. “I’m always in Ghost Mode.”
“I’ll check Find My Friends,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. “He’s on Find My Friends.”
But Daniel’s profile gave us virtually no information other than the fact that he had been in the dining hall at 6:34 p.m. for dinner. “No dice,” Tag said, looking over my shoulder. “He has it set up so that his location isn’t updated unless he’s actively using the app.”
I glanced up from my bright screen. “Please, Manik?”
“Okay, okay,” he said, relenting. “I’ll do it. I’ll go.” He huffed. “But is that it? After I spy on him for a while, am I supposed to stay there for the rest of the night?”
Tag avoided the question. He just gave Manik a fist bump and said, “Don’t forget to text the chat as soon as you know.”
Tag had created a group chat right before we’d left King’s Court, and I hadn’t thought much of it. But now…with Zoe and Maya staying behind in Hubbard and Manik striking out on his own operation, it was like Tag had considered us getting separated during the night.
Alex let out a slow whistle once Manik had disappeared. “That sucks,” he said, then turned upbeat. “But hey, now it’s officially the A team!”
My shoulders slumped. Zoe, I woefully thought. Where was she? She had to have gotten Maya back to their dorm by now, right? Because selfishly, I needed her. Tag, Alex, and I might’ve been the A team once, but we weren’t anymore. And there was suddenly no way I could handle spending the rest of the night with Tag without a buffer. He and I had fallen back into reading each other’s rhythms as predicted, but now? After what had happened with Bunker? Pretending to be together? Holding his hand, if only for a moment?
It hurt, like I always knew it would.
TEN
Tag and Alex took the steps two at a time down the hill’s stone stairway, but I lagged behind to send a private text to Zoe. She’d messaged me while Tag and I’d been playing Romeo and Juliet. Did you hide Clue #2?
Yes, but not without some complications, I typed back. Apparently Daniel felt the need for a late-night stroll…
Wait, he’s on a walk right now? Zoe asked, along with (Maya says WHAT?!?!).
I filled Zoe in as I blindly bounded down the stairs, then she did the same. “Zoe and Maya made it back okay,” I told the guys once I’d joined them. “Maya’s still down for the count, though.”
“God, what did she eat?” Alex said.
“Zoe said she’ll try to meet up with us soon,” I told Tag. “She wants Maya to fall asleep first.” Maya had a single, but little did their aloof housemaster know that Zoe was in there all the time.
Tag nodded and said, “She’s a really good girlfriend.”
We looked at each other for a moment. And you were a champion boyfriend, I wanted to say, my heart aching. During the best and worst times.
One of the worst was junior fall. My mom and Josh had gone away for a long weekend. We’d agreed I was old enough to stay home, because I would be far from alone (the neighbors would find excuses to check in on me). “But I think I’m sick,” I’d whispered to Tag during our nightly FaceTime. “My throat…”
I’d woken up the next morning with what I knew was strep. When I looked in the mirror and opened my mouth wide, you could see the bulbous red bumps. Go to the infirmary! my friends said, but I didn’t. Why would I trade my own house for blank walls and starchy sheets? Instead, I hauled all my blankets downstairs and made a nest on the couch.
And after putting on a face for Headmaster Bickford, the DeLucas, and even Ames’s married biology teachers, the doorbell rang yet again. “I brought fudgesicles!” Tag said, as if he knew I planned on ignoring any other visitors. “Ice cream’s a legit remedy…or so says the internet!”
