I’ve never been the friend who came up with the good ideas for what to do. Mai always wanted to try new things: a new shop down the block, a park that got a new slide, a new route to school. Sonja has the best imagination and her ideas usually involved putting on theatrical productions or doing elaborate art projects. I’ve always been the friend who went along with other people’s ideas or made sure everyone got a turn. Not everyone has to be the leader. Who would the leaders lead?

So I let Mercedes lead me along the route that’s familiar by now—out of the student union, past the Quad, along the field. And then into the trees, where it’s dark and—I have to admit—pretty creepy. We run between the yellow spotlights of the lamps that light the sidewalk. We both pretend we’re not afraid in the dark spaces in between.

“I’m still not sure about this so-called plan,” I say.

“Trust me.”

When we reach the Humanities building, she yanks open the door and says triumphantly, “See? Not locked! It’s all going to work out.”

We haven’t seen a single college student since we left the cafeteria, and the Humanities building is just as empty. The lobby feels different in the artificial light of the overhead bulbs. I follow Mercedes back to the anthropology department. No sign of the nosy blue-dress woman. The hallway lights automatically flicker on ahead of us.

Even though we know he’s gone and it’ll be locked, Mercedes jiggles the doorknob of the office door of the Dupree Visiting Professor.

“Now what?” I ask.

She paces the hallway, tries the other knobs, too. Then she says, “My brother watches this cartoon about a rat and mouse detective. It’s super dumb. But they always—”

“Oh, yeah, Lucas watches that one, too. The theme song is so annoying.”

“Mattie,” Mercedes says, “I’m making a point. Listen. The rat—the girl, of course—is the smart one even though the mouse thinks he’s the smart one. Anyway, they figure out how to solve these mysteries by going places that people can’t go.”

“Right,” I say, because I’ve watched a few episodes with Lucas, pretending not to pay attention. “And then they do that dance at the end when they’ve solved—”

Mercedes glares at me. I stop talking.

“Well, this is the first floor, right? And if you’re thinking like a smart girl-rat, you would figure out that these offices must have windows, right? So all we need to do is go back outside, find the right window and then—”

“Shhhh!” I cup my hand over Mercedes’s mouth. “Someone’s coming.”

We hear whistling. The notes go up and then down, fast and then slow. And then the whistler turns the corner toward the anthropology department hallway and sees us. The whistling stops.