Even through two layers of plastic, the heavy wetness of the pig was palpable. Scarlett grabbed it and plopped it on the tray. Back at her seat, she read through the instructions. Task one: sex the pig. She was glad Max wasn’t around for this. She quickly examined hers and found it was a boy.

“Sorry, piggy boy,” she said quietly. “I really am.”

The classroom door opened, and Max sauntered in. Today, he was wearing a striped tie loose around his neck. Scarlett fondly remembered all the ways you could choke someone with a tie.

“Where have you been?” Ms. Fitzweld snapped.

“The bathroom,” Max said with a smile.

“Thank you for sharing. Do it again and I’m docking you half a grade on the next exam. Get over to your station.”

“Actually, I was reading the Internet,” Max said, sitting down and pulling on his gloves. “But I thought saying I was in the bathroom sounded cooler. Guess what I found out. Someone was throwing doughnuts at your brother this morning.”

Scarlett stopped what she was doing.

“Where did you see that?” she said.

“It was on Spies of New York. I’ll read it to you.”

He pulled out his phone and held it low, just under the desk.

“Let’s see. ‘Sonny-Killer Wears White After Labor Day, New York Responds. On seeing Sonny’s killer, one loyal fan responded with a volley of doughnuts that sent him running for a cab in the company of an unidentified blonde’…That’s you I assume; they probably think you’re dating him or something…Then it says, ‘After covering Martin in jam and cream, the assailant dumped a cup of iced coffee on him before the cab drove away. We thoroughly applaud this man’s civic action and encourage other like-minded citizens to avenge our Sonny.’ Guess it was his lucky day for some random nut job to come along with a box of jelly doughnuts.”

“There was nothing random about it,” Scarlett snapped. “It was because of the show last night. He had to give a speech about doughnuts. That’s why the guy was throwing them.”

“I know,” he said. “I saw it. My mom turned it on because she wanted to see what kinds of jobs your boss is getting for her clients.”

“So a crazy person attacked us.” She pushed the dissection pan toward him. “Cut the pig.”

“Not me,” he said. “I’ll just screw it up. We’ll both fail. I’d hate to drag you down with me.”

Scarlett dragged the pan back with a bitter heart. Hers, not the pig’s—though the pig couldn’t have been happy about it, either.

“Does your brother always wear white?” Max asked as Scarlett began the unpleasant task of the first incision with the scissors. “It’s kind of a weird outfit. It’s like something you would wear if you wanted a lot of people to look at you.”