Coin Heist (22 page)

Thirty-Five

ALICE

It was my
idea, of course—not that I'm bragging. But we'd started this thing, and we had to see it through to the end.

It was easy enough to arrange. Rankin drove back to the Franklin Institute and parked in front of his car.

“Thanks, Mr. Rankin,” I said. “For everything.”

“Don't mention it,” he said as he got into his car. “I mean, really. Don't mention it to anyone. Ever. Just get the job done, and it'll be over. I don't want to know anything more than I already do. I'll see you guys on Monday.”

Poor Rankin. I wasn't mad at him—even if he had broken up the me-and-Jason kiss, which I'm not gonna even pretend wasn't the most exciting moment of my life. And on a night when we'd broken into a federal building, that was saying a lot. He was a good guy, and he'd tried his best to play by the book. But the Smerconishes bought and sold the Rankins of the world.

We all stood there and watched Rankin drive away, and then we got into the van and headed back to Haverford. We were all quiet on the way, even me and Jason, who were stuck in the back, sliding around with the loot on every turn. But I could tell that the energy between us had changed. Not just me and Jason, though of course I was still feeling that kiss in every cell of my being. It was something with all of us, like we were all different, and like we were all really truly together for the first time.

By now it was 3 a.m. The rest of our classmates were down the shore or at their suites in the Rittenhouse Hotel, downing stolen bottles of Dom Perignon from their parents' cellars. But we still had work to do.

I don't know why I was surprised to see our school still there, the stone sign lit up in front, like always. I guess it always felt like HF wasn't here when we weren't.

It was fitting, in a way. Coming full circle. We were going to leave the coins here.

We drove up past the front quad and then around back to park outside the arts center. Jason tried the glass door, but it was locked. “I was afraid of that,” he said. “I wish I'd never given Rankin my master.”

Breaking in wasn't as hard as it seemed, after the Mint and all. Especially since HF had downsized its security. There was one rent-a-cop for the whole place now. “I need your tool kit, dude.”

Benny seemed none too pleased, but he got it out of the van and handed it to him. Jason selected a small wedge tool, the same one Benny had used in the garage that terrible day we had temporarily called off our plan.

Rankin's office window was a bit taller than any of us on the outside, and Benny hoisted Jason on his shoulders—a sight if there ever was one—so he could slip the wedge between the sash and the window, flipping the latch. Then he was able to slide the pane up and crawl through. “Pretty good,” Benny said.

The light went on in the office and within minutes, Jason was at the art's center door, letting the rest of us inside as we filed into the metal studio, rolling the amp cases alongside us past all of the gallery displays from Rankin's classes. All the students he'd inspired to try to do something different, to be themselves.

“Before we do anything, guys, here,” Jason said, handing each of us a coin, “I think we should at least get one for our troubles.”

Surprised, I took mine and held it up to the light. I hadn't even really looked at the coin the whole time we were inside the Mint. It was silvery, of course, with the familiar profile of George Washington. On the flipside, a sailboat. A stone pillar. And the motto on the bottom, missing a few key letters. An on-purpose $200,000 mistake that changed everything.

“Don't spend it all at once,” Jason joked.

“They're worth more together than they are apart,” Dakota pointed out.

“They're still worth a lot,” Benny said.

Benny was the first to put on a welding mask, but Dakota also knew how to work the equipment, since she'd taken the metalworking class our freshman year. She put a mask on, too. With her fancy dress, she looked ridiculous. But in that unguarded moment, I realized I was okay with her. All that stuff that used to bother me . . . it had blown over like bad weather. She wasn't so bad. In fact, we couldn't have done this without her.

Benny pulled his mask off, cracking up. “This is too much. I can't take it.” It was the first time I remember seeing him really laugh.

“What?” she said muffled through the plastic.

The rest of us started to laugh, too. He was right. It was kind of absurd. The latest in industrial prom fashion.

Jason guided them along the way as they worked. I watched out the window to make sure the rent-a-cop didn't show up.

The sun was just coming up as we fused the last chunk of metal onto the sculpture. “I don't know how Lamberton will feel about it,” Dakota said as she stretched her arms overhead, looking exhausted. “I mean, if he ever comes here.”

“He won't,” Jason said. “My dad pretty much guaranteed that when he didn't pay what he owed him.”

We all stepped back to take a look. It was the perfect plan, and I felt redeemed for my earlier missteps.

I still had a few strings to tie up. When I went home, I'd adjust the Mint's computer inventory so no one would miss the materials we used. In the grand scheme of things, a few thousand coins was chump change to them. I'd adjusted the security cameras back to their normal feeds back at the prom, but I still had to run a little cleanup on the intranet so there were no traces of our activity.

But this? We'd taken it to a whole other level. The sculpture now had a few more bulbous “waves” emerging from the arcing form of “the fountain of knowledge.” I'd never had quite such a great appreciation for abstract art as I did right now.

Even Benny had to admit it. “Yo, you've got some skills, Hodges.”

And on a little area, folded into a crevice between welded parts, Jason had us all etch in our initials. Imperceptible, unless you knew where to look. But
we
knew they were there—we knew we'd gotten the last word in our own way.

“It's beautiful,” I said. “You should be proud.”

“Yeah, but it's worthless,” Jason said, shaking his head. “Now it's just a heap of metal.”

“But it's not. It's literally
made
of money,” I pointed out. “How's that for irony?”

At that, he had to laugh. And Dakota and Benny joined in. We were slap-happy, sleep-deprived, and hopped up on our own deviousness. Ruining a $500,000 sculpture will do that to a person.

A ringing broke the silence. Dakota fished through her purse and produced her iPhone. “Yeah,” I heard her say. “I can't make it . . . I know . . . I know . . .”

She looked up at us, because we were all completely watching and not even trying to hide it. Then she looked back at her phone. “Listen, Dylan. I think it's better . . . that we . . . do our own thing for a while, you know?”

She was dumping him? Right in front of us?

Then she was quiet because he must have been talking.

“All right,” she said. “Well, tell everyone I said hi. See you on Monday, I guess.”

When she powered off the phone she gave a funny little smile and said, “I guess . . . we just broke up.”

“How'd he take it?” I asked.

“He was okay,” she said. “I think he knew what was coming. He'll be fine.”

“How about you?”

“I think I'll be fine, too.”

And just like that, HF's supercouple was uncoupled.

Finally, it was time for all of us to head off. Benny and Dakota were going to drive back to the city yet again to drop off the van to LT, because we'd decided that made the most sense. Get rid of as much evidence as possible, as quickly as possible.

“As far as my parents know, I'm at the Rittenhouse with Dylan,” Dakota said. “So I have at least a few more hours before they send out the search team.”

Not for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to be her. From the way she talked about her parents, they sounded kind of horrible. It wasn't as easy for her as she made it all seem. Maybe it wasn't for any of us.

“Just FYI,” I said, because I'd been thinking about it, “I'm not planning to apply to Harvard.”

“You're not?” she asked, taken aback.

“I think I'm more of an MIT kind of girl.”

She smiled then. Miss Everything would still have it all. But after tonight, I was willing to let her have it. Everything except Jason, that is.

They offered to drive us, but Jason turned the ride down, so I did, too.

“Do you need to be anywhere?” he asked me when they'd gone.

My heart stuttered like a flooded network during a denial- of-service attack. “No,” I said, even though my parents would probably kill me when I got home. But you know what? Spending a little more time alone with him was totally worth it.

“Let's take a walk, then,” he said. He led me toward the headmaster's house—his old house. Standing there with him in the dark, I got a little bit of a chill. Maybe it was just the dress, but more likely it was us, being together like this. I was pretty sure it was all random, a quirk of circumstance, but I was trying to just enjoy the moment.

He broke the silence first. “I used to think this was the most amazing place.”

“It
is
pretty nice,” I said. “It must have been great to live there.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Better than where we are now. But you know, money's not everything.”

“Spoken like the true architect of a multimillion-dollar heist,” I said with a grin.

“It's funny. By doing this thing tonight, I was trying to be different—trying to fix things—but I guess I'm really just like him after all. I mean, I'm scamming the system, too.”

“No way.” I met his eyes. “You've already done more for the school than he ever did. What he did hurt people. You're helping them. Stop comparing yourself.”

“I just wish it never got this far,” he said. “Any of it.”

“Are you saying you regret hanging out with me? Because I'm going to take that kind of personally.”

He smiled then. “No, that's not what I meant. Not at all. But I won't be coming back here in the fall.”

My breath caught in my ribs. “What? Why? We just saved the school! You have to come back!”

“Well, even if it stays open, I won't be able to afford it. I don't want to take another kid's scholarship money.”

I couldn't believe it. So he wouldn't even get to benefit from all of our hard work. “That's so unfair, though.”

“It's okay. I'm not gonna skip town or anything. I'll just be at Haverford High. I'll be around. Listen, I was thinking,” he went on. “You really need to tell your dad. Come clean about what you know and how it's affecting you. You don't have to say anything to your mom.”

I wasn't expecting this to be the thing he was thinking about, and I was kind of disappointed. He didn't want to talk about us? “I don't think I can do it.”

“Just because he's lying doesn't mean you need to go along with it.”

I let his words wash over me. “I'll think about it.”

“You can handle a lot more than you think you can. You're strong, Al. You're one of the strongest people I know.”

“Maybe,” I said. Then I felt too self-conscious with the compliment, so I changed the subject. “I couldn't believe how Dakota rocked the metal gear.”

“And how about Benny, talking Rankin into helping us?”

“I know! He really threw me for a loop tonight.”

“Think there's something going on with those two?” Jason asked.

“
Those
two?” I asked. So many things were happening all at once. I felt dizzy.

“What, you didn't see them getting all touchy-feely on the way home from Smerconish's?”

“I was in the front seat, remember?” If those two were getting together, then just about anything was possible, because all my social math had clearly gone out the window. Then again, Jason had kissed me, mere hours earlier. So yeah, no numbers could account for the bizarre happenings of real life right now.

“That's pretty earth-shattering.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But no more than you flat-out announcing you had a crush on me to everyone. You are seriously fearless.”

“It got your attention, didn't it?” I could joke now.

“It blew my mind. You really don't care what people think.”

“Only the important ones,” I said shyly, as I turned toward him, standing on my tiptoes and leaning in.

We were kissing again. The first time I'd been so nervous and surprised by the whole thing, I could hardly relax. This time I gave it my all.

“Whoa,” he said. “You're pretty good.”

“Do you still think I look like a boy wizard?”

He leaned back and looked me up and down in my dress. “Uhh. Definitely not. Do you still think I'm a slacker?”

“Hmm,” I said. “Let me check.”

I didn't want to think about anything at all—not what would happen with me and Jason or with my parents or anyone else after tonight. Not what school would be like on Monday, or what consequences would come from any of our actions. I wanted to be in this moment, my favorite one, for infinity—an uncountable infinity.

The rest of our lives could wait.

My hand went to my pocket where I'd stashed my coin, and my thumb stroked its smooth metallic surface. I didn't know what I'd do with it—if I would sell it some day, or if I would keep it hidden somewhere. No one else had said anything more about what they were planning to do, either. It was, of course, a little dangerous—evidence of our crime. But it was more than that. It was a reminder of what we could do, and who we could be, given the chance.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Pu
lling
off a
book is only slightly less complicated than a heist, and it demands the same sort of all-in blood oath–esque group effort.

Coin Heist
would not exist were it not for Marshall Lewy, who guided the process from beginning to end with encouragement, patience, and unbelievable story savvy. Warm and wise editor Jane Fransson tirelessly chiseled away at multiple drafts. The entire Adaptive team buoyed this project behind the scenes and were basically an author's dream to work with.

Thanks also to Leigh Feldman for keeping everything moving forward, taking care of me and business in equal measures. Thanks to my family: the Ludwigs, the Beans, the Pires, Stelle Sheller, Susannah Ludwig, and Aubrey Ellman for love, support, and childcare. Thanks to all of my author friends, especially the wonderful Tiffany Schmidt and E.C. Myers. Finally, thanks to my awesome husband Jesse and son Rainer, my personal riches.

Adaptive would like
to thank Will Osborne, whose ideas were inspiration for this whole adventure.