The Mockingbirds by Whitney Daisy

Author:Whitney, Daisy [Whitney, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780316126847
Publisher: Hachette Book Group
Published: 2010-11-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

LOOK AWAY

No matter what Ilana says, there is no way I want to feel Carter’s seamy eyes on me again. So the next day I’m doubly careful to avoid him. I put on sunglasses, tuck my hair into a Manchester United cap of Maia’s, and pull on a short army camouflage jacket that’s cool but I hardly ever wear, so no one knows it as “my coat.”

I leave early for every class. I skirt around buildings to stay out of sight. When it’s time for lunch, I head for my dorm, remembering there’s a fresh bag of pretzels on my desk. Casey dropped it off the other night, along with apples, Diet Coke, M&M’s, popcorn, and homemade blondie brownies. Oh, the choices—how will I ever pick?

But just as I’m about to pull open the heavy oak door to Taft-Hay Hall and escape the wintry air, I’m intercepted. Amy hooks an arm around my right arm, Ilana around my left. They spin me around and walk me back down the steps.

“Lunchtime!” Ilana says cheerily. Her braids are gone today and her hair’s been flattened into one long sheet of dark brown hair, practically draped over a caramel-colored wool coat.

“Are you taking me out to lunch?” I say.

Amy shakes her head, her cropped haircut a stark contrast to Ilana’s. “Nope.”

“More mac and cheese?” I ask, figuring maybe we’re going to her room to dine.

“Not in the plans either.”

I stop on the stone path. “I’m not going to the caf.”

“Yes, you are,” Amy says.

I shake my head and hold my ground, pressing my weight onto the heels of my boots.

“Alex, you can do this, and remember, you’re safe with us,” Amy says.

“How?” I ask.

“He knows who we are now. He knows we’re the Mockingbirds.”

“How does he know?”

“He just does,” Amy says, looking at me.

“Do you send him notes from runners or something?” I press on.

“He knows the same way T.S. knew how to find us.”

“Through Casey?”

Amy shakes her head. “That’s not how T.S. found us.”

“Did she put up a bat signal?”

Amy laughs and I can see her breath when she does. “Alex, it’s not that complicated. T.S. left a note in our mailbox in the student activities office. Same place where you dropped off your vote on the code revisions.”

“Did Carter leave a note? What did he write? Call me and tell me who you are.”

“Alex, we’re not some supersecret organization. It’s not like Clark Kent where he has to protect his real identity. My name is on the mailbox as the point person.”

“Oh,” I say, kind of surprised. I was expecting something more cloak and dagger. It’s so pedestrian to have a mailbox for their fake singing group. Then again, it is kind of the perfect cover too.

“I want students to be able to get in touch with me if they need to,” Amy adds.

I notice she uses the plural students and it hits me I might not be alone. I might not be the only one they’re helping. “Are there other cases this semester?”

Amy nods.

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