“I can be your wingman on the trip if you want,” I blurted. “If things are still complicated, just give me the secret signal and I’ll mummify her in rolls of duct tape so she can’t leave our room.”
He laughed. “You’d do that for me?”
I shrugged. “Sure. What are friends for?” Friends. Saying that word to Jason made my pulse race. I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand as I gestured to the tree with the other. “Well, hopefully friends are for taking pictures of tree carvings when their partners choose to exit the world of cell phone ownership.”
Jason pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Friends are definitely for that. Why don’t you move closer? I’ll get you too.”
I took a large step away from the tree. “Nope. I don’t do pictures.” Pictures end up in yearbooks and on the internet and other places immortalized forever where people can find them, with names I don’t want them to know. “I’m not very photogenic. I always blink or make a face. It’s a mess.”
“I highly doubt that,” Jason muttered as he captured proof of the school’s first couple.
We got pictures of the next eight items on our list in no time, including Jason’s favorite: “Ms. Benton’s agreeable band,” which turned out to be his science teacher’s collection of Beatles bobblehead dolls. “What’s the last item?” I asked as we left the chemistry room.
“‘The Z’s bees,’” Jason read aloud. He stopped walking.
“Oh,” I replied, turning toward the hall that would take us to the front office.
Jason stayed still, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Huh.” He scratched his head.
“Wait.” A slow grin spread across my face. “You don’t know what that means?”
“No.” He glanced up from the list. “Do you?”
My smile grew wider.
“Tell me.”
“Hold on.” I held my hands out to my sides. “I want to spend a moment basking in the glory of knowing something about this school you don’t. Me, the new girl. Who knows nothing about finding anything on our list.”
Jason shot me a look. “What does it mean?”
I leaned toward him. “Not yet. Still basking.”
He reached up and gently yanked twice on my earlobe. It was a familiar gesture, one he’d picked up from his dad, and one that had always annoyed me as a kid.
I smacked his hand away with a laugh. “God, Jase. Cut it out.”
He was already reaching for my ear again when he stopped midreach and lowered his hands to his sides.
“What?” I asked.
“You called me Jase.”
Crap! Lesson number eight, Sloane, I reminded myself. Don’t get complacent.
It had always been like that with Jason, easy when everyone else required a little more work. Being around him was effortless. Now, that was dangerous.
You have to stay on your toes if you’re going to pull this off. And you need to pull this off. So stop making mistakes!
Before I could come up with an excuse for using my childhood nickname for him, Oliver Clarke appeared trailing behind his scavenger hunt partner. I didn’t know where he’d come from, but the deserted hallway was long enough that it was possible he’d seen my whole exchange with Jason, ear yanking and nickname calling included.
Oliver eyed us as he approached, pressing his lips together to hold back a laugh. He remained silent until he was right next to us, then said in a low voice meant only for me, “Hey, Sweet Potato.”
The snort escaped me before I could stop it.
Oliver’s eyes lit up.
I knew I was supposed to be avoiding him because of the whole gossip and mean ex-girlfriend thing, but no one else was around other than Jason and Oliver’s teammate, a guy I recognized from the a cappella group. And I couldn’t just ignore him after a reaction like that. I tipped my head in his direction. “Choir Boy.”
Oliver’s mouth dropped open. “Insults are not a good start to our friendship. I think you mean Singer of Very Manly Songs.”
I pointed at the corner his partner had just disappeared around. “Or maybe I mean Misplacer of Teammates.”
“Oh, shoot,” Oliver grumbled as he hurried around the corner.
I shook my head and peeked at Jason, who was biting his lip, watching the spot where Oliver disappeared. “Sorry about the Jase thing,” I said. “I have a cousin named Jason and that’s what I call him. It just slipped out.”
“It’s okay. It’s what my mom calls me.”
I know. She stole it from me. “That’s because it’s a good nickname.”
Jason smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
“So.” I clapped my hands together. “We need to find some bees, right?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Are you done basking?”
“No, but the basking can continue on our way to the office.”
When I opened the office door, Mrs. Zalinsky smiled at me from behind the tall counter. “Sloane, dear. Back so soon?”
The genuine warmth in her voice melted away my lingering annoyance at her part in giving me a First Day Buddy. She was only trying to help and it hadn’t been that bad. “We need a picture of your bees for the scavenger hunt,” I explained, pointing to Mrs. Zalinsky’s nameplate for Jason.
“Ah,” he mumbled. “I never would’ve gotten that. I haven’t been in here in forever.”
Mrs. Zalinsky eyed Jason as he took the requisite picture. “I told you you wouldn’t need that map,” she whispered to me.
I leaned closer to Mrs. Zalinsky, like we were old friends sharing secrets. “Trust me, I need a map for that. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Are you two done chatting?” Jason asked, suppressing a grin. “Because we’ve got a scavenger hunt to win.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Z!” I called as I followed Jason out of the office.
We sprinted for the courtyard, but when we arrived, we found Mrs. Thompson sitting on a bench with a line of about ten pairs already waiting for her to verify their photos, including Sawyer and Livie three groups ahead of us.
I groaned as Sawyer and Livie did a ha-ha-we-beat-you dance. I pulled Jason in line on the off chance everyone in front of us ended up disqualified. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have spent so much time basking.”
“It’s okay,” Jason said with a shrug. “We didn’t actually bet on anything, so all Sawyer gets is bragging rights. Plus, I liked the basking.”
I peeked in Mrs. Thompson’s direction, trying to see if she was eliminating anyone, but my gaze caught on the brick wall behind her instead. I rubbed the back of my neck and studied it.
“So what was with you and Mrs. Zalinsky back there?” The smile in Jason’s voice didn’t match the tightness forming in my chest.
“That was girl talk,” I said lightly, not taking my eyes off the faded bricks. It was the same brick wall I’d stood in front of the night we’d broken into the school. It had the same dark wet patches, this time due to the early morning rain. And looking at it again was giving me the same creepy feeling.
“How can you already be having girl talk with the secretary? You just got here.”
The air shifted, more