Watch Your Step (36 page)

Annika shrugs. “Who he can trust. The grown-up with whom he's shared his innermost thoughts of the past nine months, never suspecting that she was really working for me as a Kilter Academy recruiter. . . .”

My head snaps toward Miss Parsippany. She bites her lip and looks away.

“Myself, who only wants what's best for him—and for countless children around the globe. . . .”

My eyes meet Annika's. She winks again.

“Or his parents. Who, when he made a single mistake, couldn't ship him off fast enough. Especially once his mother learned about Kilter's true purpose from my best recruiter, who divulged top secret information while half-conscious and recovering from a concussion in the hospital.
And
whose mother not
only wanted him to get into trouble, but then befriended his ultimate enemy, Bartholomew John, once her son was gone.”

“Only because I thought he'd helped you toughen up!” Mom whispers urgently near my ear.

I step away from her. When no one says anything else, I turn slowly. I look at Annika. My friends. Miss Parsippany. Bartholomew John. I think of the past nine months. What happened before them, and what might happen after.

And then, heart racing, I go to my parents. I take Mom's hand in one hand and Dad's in the other, the way I used to when I was a little boy. And I ask the only question I can think of.

“Can we go home now?”

A
nd then we went swimming
. And snorkeling. And after that we went for a walk on the beach. And after that we went to a drive-in movie where you'll never. Guess. What. Happened! We shared a bucket of popcorn! Just the two of us! That was the first time we ever shared anything just because we wanted to! It. Was. Amazing!”

“What about the movie?” Abe asks.

“What about it?” Gabby asks.

“Was it any good?”

“No idea! I was so happy I couldn't even pay attention.” Gabby looks away and waves. A second later, Flora, her older sister, appears. Gabby hooks one arm around her neck and kisses her cheek. “We're not just sisters. We're best friends! Right?”

“We're definitely not enemies,” Flora says. “But if you don't mind, I want to get back to this.” She holds up a book and disappears.

“I recommended that!” Gabby declares. “She's been suggesting fun activities to do together, and I've been suggesting books for her to read!”

“That's great, Gabby,” I say. “I'm so glad you and your sister are getting along better.”

“The whole family is,” Gabby says. “We've been spending so much time together since we got home three weeks ago. As crazy as Kamp Kilter was, it actually worked. Who knew?”

“Not me,” I say.

“Or me,” Abe says.

“Or me,” Lemon says.

“Or me,” Elinor says.

I look at Elinor on my laptop screen and smile. We're talking with the help of an online video chat program—on regular
computers, not K-Paks. Annika confiscated those before kicking us all out of camp, which she did as soon as I said I wanted to leave. At first it was hard not being able to reach my friends anytime I felt like it, but a few days after we got home Dad gave me his old laptop. My friends and I had exchanged phone numbers and called each other to exchange e-mail addresses. Now we're in touch as easily as we were before—and without any Kilter-related distractions.

“How about you, Abe?” I ask. “Any change on the home front?”

“ ‘Change' is an understatement,” he says. “The second we walked in the door Dad started chucking sports equipment. Baseballs, basketballs, footballs, anything you could throw or hit, he shoved into big black garbage bags. He promised he'd never try to get me to do anything I didn't want to do.”

“Aw!” Gabby says. “That's so nice!”

“It is,” Abe agrees. “Only after he threw everything out, I started to feel bad. I thought if playing catch every now and then would really make my dad that happy, then I could throw him a bone—or a softball—every now and then. So each night after dinner, we talk while we play catch. When we're done,
we go inside and hang out with Mom. Sometimes I teach them something about art, and we all draw or paint. And sometimes they watch TV while I work on my latest project. Either way, we're in the same room. Together.” He shrugs. “And it's kind of fun.”

“Sounds it,” I say. “Lemon? How are things with your family?”

He smiles. “Better than ever. My parents and I talked a lot after we got back, and agreed that Finn and I could both keep playing with fire—but
only
on family camping trips. Then we build campfires—safely and in a controlled environment—like my dad and I used to.” He picks up his laptop and turns it around so we have a view of Finn and his parents holding frying pans over a small campfire. A large tent is behind them. A long strand of origami stars is looped across the front of the tent. Lemon turns the laptop back around. “And everyone's taken up my newer hobby. Turns out folding paper is fun for the whole family.”

“What about you, Hinkle?” Abe asks. “Anything different with your family?”

“Definitely,” I say. “For a few days we all tiptoed around each other and were really careful about what we said and did.
We were extra polite, almost like we didn't know each other. But we're loosening up a little bit now. Tonight we're even going to a carnival in town. With rides and games and junk food.”

“And a fish-stick booth?” Gabby asks.

I shudder. “I hope not. After everything that's happened, I'm kind of done with frozen fried seafood.”

“What about cotton candy?” Mom calls out from the hallway as she walks past my bedroom.

“And buttery popcorn?” Dad adds, following after her with a laundry basket.

“Nope!” I call back. “I'm all over those!”

“Me too!” Mom exclaims.

“Your veggie-loving mom is going to down straight-up sugar?” Abe shakes his head. “Talk about change.”

I grin. Then I look at Elinor, and the expression fades slightly. Besides a brief phone call, during which I got her e-mail address just before she said she couldn't really talk, we haven't been in touch. I have no idea where or how she's been.

As if sensing my concern, Elinor picks up her laptop and turns it so we can see the room behind her. The room appears
to be in a restaurant. It's empty except for one table, where two women and one elderly man sit, picking at their dishes and not speaking.

I bring the laptop screen closer to my face and squint. Abe, Lemon, and Gabby do the same. “Is that . . . ?”

“My mom?” Elinor finishes. “And Annika? And Mr. Tempest—a.k.a. Mystery, a.k.a. Grandpa? Yup.”

She sounds pleased. That makes me happy.

“Where are you?” I ask. The dining room doesn't look like any I've seen at Kilter or IncrimiNation.

“Kansas.” Elinor turns her laptop back around. “It was the weirdest thing. After everyone left Kamp Kilter, Annika asked me to stay behind. Then she actually apologized for not being a better aunt and said she'd like to make it up to me.”

“Wow,” Gabby says.

“I know,” Elinor says. “She was like a different person. She even asked
how
she could make it up to me. I said I wanted her and Mom to stop fighting, and I asked if we could all have dinner together in a neutral zone. Somewhere between Kilter and IncrimiNation. That's how we ended up here. And somehow she convinced my mom to come too.”

“And Mystery?” Abe asks.

Elinor glances behind her, then faces the laptop and holds up a porcelain doll. “He gave me this,” she whispers. “Once Annika told me we were related. His whole body seemed to get smaller, like he'd been possessed by an evil old man until the second he found out that he was my grandfather. Then he left the camp cafeteria, where we'd been talking, and came back twenty minutes later with this. I think he got it from that creepy oversize dollhouse in the woods.”

I picture the small cottage. That's where Mystery once chased after me with an ax. How times have changed.

“Anyway,” Elinor continues, “they're not exactly best friends yet. Or even really talking. But at least they're here.
We're
here. Together. It's a start.”

She hugs the doll close. As she does, I notice she's wearing her friendship bracelet. The one that matches mine, which I haven't taken off since the day she tied it around my wrist.

“What about trouble?” Abe asks, moving on. “Has anyone made any?”

“Nope,” Gabby says.

“Never,” Elinor says.

“Don't want to,” Lemon says.

“Ditto,” I say.

“Same here,” Abe says. “So . . . what does that mean? Do we all go back to our regular schools in the fall?”

“I guess so,” I say.

“But then we can't see each other every day!” Gabby pouts.

“Sure we can,” I say. “On our computers. Just like this.”

“It's not the same.” Gabby's pout turns into a frown.

“We can still get together,” Lemon offers. “Like during breaks and vacations.”

“Right,” Abe says. “We'll have rotating alliance meetings. At each of our houses. And instead of talking about trouble, we'll just talk. Hang out. Have fun.”

“That sounds great,” I say.

“Perfect!” Gabby smiles.

“Oh, and Elinor?” Abe asks.

Her eyes meet his on her laptop screen. “Yeah?”

“That means you, too. Welcome to Capital T.”

Her face lights up. “Thanks.”

“Hey, little sis.” Flora appears next to Gabby. “I'm going go-karting with some friends. Want to come?”

Gabby's eyes grow wide. “Do I!” She blows us a kiss. “Miss and love you guys! Call you later!”

“I should go too,” Lemon says. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Dad and I are about to toss around the football,” Abe says.

“I need to try to get Mom, Annika, and Grandpa talking,” Elinor says.

“And I need to eat some cotton candy,” I say. “Check in tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” everyone agrees, and signs off.

I'm about to close my laptop when I have an idea. I sign into my e-mail and start a new message.

TO:
[email protected]

FROM:
[email protected]

SUBJECT:
Thanks?

Dear Miss Parsippany,

Since we didn't get to talk at Kamp Kilter a few weeks ago, I just wanted to send a quick (last) note.

You probably don't need me to tell you that I was really surprised to see you that day. At all, let
alone with Bartholomew John. I was also really surprised to learn that not only did you know about Kilter's true purpose all along, you helped recruit me. And at first that made me mad. The past year hasn't been easy, and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten involved with a top secret troublemaking school.

But guess what? Even despite all the weirdness and confusion, things are way better now than they were that day I accidentally knocked you over (still sorry about that, by the way!). Mom, Dad, and I are really getting along for the first time ever. I have a great group of friends. And I learned that if ever I have to defend myself or anyone I care about, all I need is a piece of fruit and a second to aim. So now I wonder if I should be thanking you.

Either way, I want you to know that I don't think you're a terrible person for recruiting Troublemakers. Annika's hard to say no to. And besides, in the end, Kilter did what the best reform school in the country
should do. It made kids behave, and it brought families closer together.

That's the truth.

Sincerely,

Seamus

I send the e-mail and close my laptop. Then I hop off the bed and start toward the door. Just as I'm about to leave the room, I glimpse something out of the corner of my eye.

A shiny red apple. Just like the one I threw across the Cloud-view Middle School cafeteria all those months ago. I'd grabbed it from the fridge earlier and brought it up here to snack on. Then I got the chat request from Abe, left it on my desk, and forgot about it.

Now I go to the desk and pick it up. Turning it over in my hand, I think about everything that's happened since I aimed for Bartholomew John and hit Miss Parsippany instead. I think of my first trip to Kilter, and standing by the chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. Annika holding a water gun to my neck. Meeting Elinor, Lemon, Abe, and Gabby. Getting to know Ike, Houdini, and my other teachers. Dodging the Good
Samaritans. Calling Ms. Marla. E-mailing my former substitute teacher. Stealing a helicopter and sneaking off to the desert. Making mischief. Having fun.

When I picture the chaos in the Kamp Kilter cafeteria, one question comes to mind.

Who knew a single apple could make so much trouble?

And then I grin, take a big bite, and hurry from the room to find my parents.