‘It’s covered in my fingerprints,’ Charlie said as she reached under the locker units and pulled out a double-length thirty-two-round clip, filled with tarnished bullets. ‘I can do without extra hassle over an unlicensed firearm.’

Harry was startled as the clip landed heavy next to the gun. But Charlie wasn’t done, reaching deeper under the lockers and coming out with a black, plastic-wrapped package about the size of a house brick.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ Harry asked.

‘If you’re thinking five pounds of homebrew C4 explosive,’ Charlie said, enjoying Harry’s shock. ‘It’s stable,’ she added. ‘Drop it off a rooftop or throw it in an incinerator. Nothing will go bang without a blasting cap. If someone sees it sliced up in the garbage, they’ll assume it’s dried out plasticine. Or break it up and flush it.’

Harry gawped. Before today, the worst trouble he’d ever faced was one-day suspension from his London school for calling a teacher a petty-minded cow when he got told it was against the rules to tie his sweater round his waist.

‘This stuff will get me in more trouble,’ Charlie pleaded, her eyes more desperate than ever. ‘Do you want to help or not?’

‘I guess,’ Harry sighed, knowing he was crossing a line from wannabe journalist to an accessory to a serious crime.

He was already half in love with this messed-up girl and her giant blue eyes, but simultaneously imagined a scene where he got busted carrying explosives and a gun.

‘Use this,’ Charlie said, grabbing a Rock Spring Middle School tracksuit top off the back of a chair. ‘Wrap the stuff in that to keep your DNA off. Cut the explosive in small bits and put it in the trash, then wear plastic gloves and wipe the gun before you dump it.’

‘I’ll google the best way to clean it,’ Harry said.

Charlie nodded as she hunted around the gloomy floor, pushing her feet into trashed sneakers. ‘Now get your fancy-pants camera out. You can film me surrendering to the cops.’

8 CHEESY BALLS

Charlie claimed her explosive was stable, but Harry had seen the bloody mess made of Deion, and didn’t like having five pounds of the stuff strapped on his back. Nor did he like the massive risk he’d taken to help Charlie out. But those blue eyes, and the smell of her when they’d hugged …

Stupid idiot. This situation is a million kinds of crazy. You could get locked up for this and you’ll probably never see Charlie again.

Harry walked fast, getting honked at by an old bird driving an RV as he stepped off a kerb without looking. His brain was scrambled egg. The sun was impossibly hot and the pack crammed full, with the gun digging his back.