They can’t be serious. If they leave us on the ledge, who will find us? Even if neither of us overshoots and falls on the way down, it’s almost worse to be stuck out there. We can yell for help all we want, but it could be days before anyone comes.

All at once, Buzz Cut and Red have me going over the side. Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m holding onto their forearms for all I’m worth. I don’t want to die. I’m trying to keep my body close to the rock wall as long as I can, and when my toes find the ledge, I start crying again. I kneel on the narrow outcropping, and my wail echoes off the stone walls.

I don’t think they expected that, or maybe no one likes to hear the terror of a victim because Gordo is telling me, over and over, to shut up. All four of them are looking down at me, Chaz momentarily forgotten.

The veins in Gordo’s neck look like they may burst. “Jeezus, cabron! Stop acting like you’re gonna die!”

“I’m … I’m not?”

“Like I’d really kill you?” He shakes his head, notes of pride coloring his explanation of his plan. “I just want you out of here. When you miss curfew, we’ll tell the dean we saw you guys sneak off campus. No matter what you say happened, no one is going to believe you. We can prove we were on campus, while you will have to explain why you two were off in the woods alone. Frohmeyer’s no fool. You’ll be gone, and we’ll get our school back.”

The plan is half terrible and half smart and 100 percent dangerous. But I want him to keep talking, and I want all eyes focused on me. Maybe for the first time ever, I want the spotlight for the noblest reason.

“If I jump, what happens to your plan, then?”

Gordo’s face twists, and he leans toward me. “You wouldn’t.”

I nod emphatically. “The police will start looking for me after all, and I bet they’re harder to fool than the dean.”

They’re all leaning toward me now. I have their full attention, as I hoped.

Vin Weasel’s voice is higher. “You’ll die, moron.”

“I’m a filthy, dirty homo—right?”

“We’re just trying to teach you a lesson!” Red finds his voice, and it’s panicky.

And Chaz? He says nothing at all.

Because Chaz isn’t there.

Alone

Alone

Chaz is running through the woods right now, running on those long, thin legs, and I’m banking on him being nimbler than our attackers. He only has a few seconds’ head start, but a few seconds might as well be a year for a whippet being chased by bulldogs.