I’m too late. The words scroll through my head like a news ticker on a never-ending loop.

I’m too late. I’m too late. I’m too late.

Chapter 53

Chapter 53

It takes me a full five minutes to make my way across the lobby. The crowd doesn’t part for me like it did for my brother, since I don’t have the cachet of the humiliated.

When I finally make it outside, a stiff breeze blows against my arms. Shivering, I look around. Jackpot! Twenty feet away, I spot our Honda Accord in the parking lot.

My heart pounds. Okay. That means Archie’s still here, somewhere on the premises. That means I can still fix this.

I walk away from the main building, leaving behind the chattering of the crowd, the loud bass of the music. A few strides later, I break into a trot. Where would Archie go? What location in our school would give him solace?

I end up in the grassy area behind the annexed buildings. The spot where the upperclassmen like to eat lunch. The place where I presented Archie with burned chicken shaped into a caterpillar, a little over a week ago.

I take a shuddering breath, trying to calm my supercharged heart. Even if I find Archie…then what?

My rush to get to the school and Archie’s ensuing embarrassment have distracted me from my true purpose: Before this night is over, either Archie or Bandit has to die.

I still haven’t decided who.

Before I can think about the dilemma too hard—and risk running into the street, screaming—I move farther onto the grass.

The sun is beneath the trees now, a bright glow behind the branches. The orb is so low that I know the descent’s going to be fast. Any minute now, we’ll be bathed in shadows.

“Archie?” I call. “Is anybody here?”

Nobody answers, but I didn’t expect a response even if someone were present. The only sound is the continuous buzz of the crickets, deafening…and more than a little creepy.

The hair stands on my neck, and I rub my arms, trying to warm up. Where is he? Our car is here. So unless Archie’s been dabbling in Harry Potter and has apparated with the help of a shoe, he’s got to be somewhere.

I drift toward the back of the field, which backs up into the woods. He could’ve ventured in any direction. There are about a million spots where he and Bandit could be grappling with each other, even as I stand here.

The urge to tear through the woods, shaking down each tree, overwhelms me. But I can’t dart into the night without a plan. I’ve already lost too much time. I have to be smart.

Come on, Alice. Where would he go?