Chapter 15
“How did you know he didn’t do it?” Ryan asked as we hustled back across the soccer field. “How did you know to talk to him like that?”
“I could hear it, just like you said before. Remember? You said he’d sound cagey if he did it.”
He shook his head at me, jaw slack. “But all you’d done was say hello.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I could just hear it.”
At last we reached the band room. The blare of the warning bell filtered through the door: two minutes until the next class. No way was I making it to art on time.
“All right,” Ryan said. “Let’s hope the director’s not here. I’ve never come back so late before.” He eased the door open, and I cringed as I heard the shrill tones of a flute moving up and down a scale. Yet it was just a freshman girl practicing in the corner; she
