“No, that’s me,” I say. “I was the one on the other side of the fence, greasing up the pigs. It was just Bucky and me. The prank was my idea, and just Bucky and I executed the entire thing. Well, with the help of Mr. Redd’s piglets,” I say.

Mr. Campbell peers at me over the top of his reading glasses. “You know I can’t let this go unpunished,” he says.

“I understand that, Mr. Campbell. But Elijah had nothing to do with it,” I say, nodding at him.

“He’s telling the truth,” Bucky says, nodding. “Only Julian and I were at Taylor this morning.”

Coach Marcus looks me in the eye. “If that’s the case, then the two of you will sit on the bench for the game against St. John’s tomorrow night,” he says. “If that’s a suitable punishment for you, Principal Campbell.”

“I think that’s probably sufficient,” he says. “And, boys, let’s call an end to the pranks this year, okay? We’ve got a real chance of getting at least to the regional playoffs, and I really don’t want two of my best players sitting on the bench for the next few weeks until the Taylor game,” he says, shaking his head.

“Yes, sir,” I tell him. “And I’m really sorry about all of this. If it helps at all, I told the team we were going to help Pastor Ernie and Figg clean up that empty lot on Main near Ron Redd’s this weekend. I told them it was the price we were going to pay for continuing the prank war.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea. Maybe in the future we can do away with the pranks altogether and just focus on the community service. What do you think about that, Coach Marcus?” Mr. Campbell says, folding his hands on his desk.

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan,” Coach says.

“You’re all dismissed. Get yourselves back to class and learn something, yes?” Mr. Campbell waves toward his door, and we all get up and go into the hallway.

Coach Marcus heads toward the gym and Bucky starts walking back to class, but Elijah grabs me by the elbow and pulls me toward the hidden space beneath the stairwell.

“Why did you do that? You were scot-free! You could have just told them it was me, and you’d be playing this weekend,” he says.

I shrug. “What good would it do me to play if you weren’t on the field protecting me?” I say.

“Yeah, but now you’re in trouble,” Elijah says.

“But you’re not,” I tell him.

He looks me in the eye, and I see the muscles in his jaw relax.