Page 13 of Did You See Evie

It’s the same sensation I felt after taking Melinda Terry’s phone, but maturity and responsibility overwhelm the short-lived thrill I once felt when thinking back on those times, replacing it with shame. I should know better than to act like an impulsive teenager. I’m better than that now.

“We sure have,” I say, clearing my throat. “You’re right. Most of the girls on the team are well off, but not all of them.”

“They must be talented, too. Like you. District champs, you say?”

“That’s right.” I raise my plastic cup like it’s a champagne flute. “Three out of the past four years.”

“That’s great. What are you doing to celebrate?”

I roll my eyes. “Actually, we’re having a lock-in this Friday.”

“A what?”

“You know, a lock-in. Like the local church used to have in the summers.”

“Where everyone piles into the same room with sleeping bags and stays the night?”

“Yes. It’s like a slumber party in the school gymnasium.”

Nadia laughs. “You couldn’t have paid me to stay the night at our high school. It was like a house of horrors.”

I laugh along with her, even though she’s right. Our high school had nothing but problem kids, it seemed. Students were always getting into physical altercations with each other, sometimes even teachers. In the four years I was there, dozens of kids got hauled out during the school day for bringing drugs and alcohol to campus. The girls at Manning Academy are lucky to never know a place like it exists.

“You have to tell me more about this,” Nadia says. “I want to imagine it. What on earth do a bunch of young girls do in a school all night?”

“I don’t know,” I say, lifting my chin, thinking. “I guess we’ll play games. Eat. Another teacher mentioned playing a movie.”

“Sounds like good, wholesome fun,” she says, and I notice the longing in her voice. “And what about the chaperones? What will you be doing?”

“I guess watching the girls.”

I laugh uneasily. We’ve covered a lot of ground during our little reunion, but it’s odd that Nadia is so fascinated with the lock-in of all things.

“Speaking of wholesome fun, do you remember the summer we decided to work as lifeguards at the community pool?”

“I’m not done talking about the lock-in,” she says, pointedly. Her intense focus on the topic is unsettling. “What adults will be there?”

“Why do you care?”

“I want to know what adults will be there,” she repeats. “You’ve got, what, ten girls on the team? Fifteen? You can’t watch them all by yourself.”

“My assistant coach will be with me,” I say, so stunned by her line of questioning I don’t know what else to do but to answer. “Maybe someone else.”

“Will it be easy for you to sneak away unnoticed?”

“Nadia, what are you getting at?”

“This is perfect timing, really. Almost like it’s meant to be.” She leans back, crossing one leg over the other, and stares at me with those narrow, fox-like eyes. “There’s a door at the back of the building that leads to the computer lab. I need you to prop it open.”

“What?”

“Any time after midnight, just make sure it’s unlocked so a member of my team can get in.”

“Your team?”

My thoughts scramble, trying to make sense of what Nadia is saying. A minute ago, we were talking about what activities might entertain the girls. Now she’s talking about leaving a door unlocked.

Then it comes to me. The string of recent burglaries. Someone has been breaking into schools and stealing their equipment. Nadia must be involved.

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