That isn’t what happens. Buckman rises, face contorted in denials. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He makes his voice as commanding as he can muster, turning to Leeza. “If you think you can make up some wild story just to distract us from your sick friends—”

Her eyes blaze. She doesn’t let him finish. “What was it you said to me last night at prom? ‘I’m glad it’s so dark; no one will see how I look at you.’ Yeah, especially not Helen.”

“You shut your mouth!”

He reaches out—to grab her? to hit her?—but Frohmeyer gets between them. “Start talking, Andrew.”

Chaz gets my eye and makes a “What the Hell is Happening” face.

“There’s nothing to say!” Buckman spits out the words, eyes panicked. “And that’s not why we’re here …”

Leeza reaches into the bust of her catsuit and produces a black-and-white photo strip. Even from here, I can see the Darien Lakes logo in the corner. Buckman lunges for the strip, but Frohmeyer snatches it. You’d have to be an idiot (which I’m not) to doubt that it’s Leeza and Buckman in the cozy confines of a photo booth. Blue and Ableman crowd around to see, while Buckman starts protesting that she dragged him in there and he thought it was all innocent.

Frohmeyer commands Chaz and me to leave. But Leeza isn’t done. “Nope, boys, I want you to stay for this.” She faces Frohmeyer head-on. “You need me. If you expel my friends, I will mail photocopies of these photos to every board member of the school and every pastor whose church sends kids here. Maybe I’ll send some of the notes, too. Andrew is quite a writer.”

Buckman opens his mouth, but Frohmeyer glares at him so hard, he shuts it. “What game do you think you’re playing? If what you’re saying is true, you’ll be expelled too.”

“I beat you to it. My folks are on the way. I have a whole life ahead of me that will obliterate my time here if I’m lucky.” She is on fire. Like Katniss-rides-a-chariot fire. “Are you getting it yet? I. DON’T. NEED. YOU. You need me. If I go down shouting, you’ll have to fire Andrew and then what happens to that grandbaby of yours?”

My head is going to lift clear off my shoulders in surprise. How did I not know that Helen was a Frohmeyer before she was a Buckman?

“You leave my daughter out of this.”

“That’s what he did whenever we were alone.”

“I’m serious.”