“Okay.” I give her a grim smile and offer my hand. She takes it. “Let’s do this.”

Dread slows me down. Logan pulls me forward. When we finally reach the top of the stairs and turn toward Mr. Bartley’s classroom, the hallway is bottlenecked with students. I push up on my toes and get a glimpse of signs being raised above our heads. Someone calls out, “Stop the debate!”

Logan’s fingers slip from mine, and we weave our way until we reach the center. Right in the middle of it all are Daniel, Mason, Heather, and three other students not in our class. They loop around in front of Mr. Bartley’s closed door, chanting, “Stop the debate!” They hold up signs:

NAZIS NOT WELCOME HERE OR ANYWHERE!

NO JUSTIFICATION FOR GENOCIDE!

ADVOCATE FOR LOVE, NOT HATE!

HUMANKIND NOT HUMANHATE!

OUR SCHOOL SHOULD BE A SAFE ZONE NOT A HATE ZONE!

NO DEBATE!

When Daniel spots me, he steps away from the circle. His face is bright with excitement. “Hey Cade,” he calls. “We have extra signs, if you want to join us.” He points to a stack leaning up against lockers near Mr. Bartley’s door. HUMANKIND WELCOME HERE! is on top.

“I’ll join you.” Kerrianne takes the “NO Debate!” sign out of Daniel’s hand and holds it high. She moves in front of Mason, and even though it’s a circle, she has this way about her that makes it look like she’s leading everyone. She turns the chant from “Stop the debate!” to “No debate!”

Logan darts around Heather and comes over to us. In the short time since we got here, the crowd has doubled. Almost everyone has their phones out, snapping pictures or taking videos. An electric current runs along my skin.

Heather motions to Allie Fitzpatrick—the other girl Jesse had dubbed his Aryan sister—to join them, but she backs away. People shift around Allie like sand, then fill the space as if she’d never been there. Heather looks at me and smiles, and from her expression I’m fairly certain she expects us to join in.

“You organized this?” Logan asks Daniel.

“Yeah. Got everyone together over lunch.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I did. I texted you both. You didn’t respond.”

No surprise, since I left my phone in my locker. But Logan? Blair texted her during lunch and we video-chatted with her. Logan takes her phone out of her pocket. “That’s weird,” she says, flashing it at me. There’s a text from Daniel. It came through at 11:21 a.m.

“Grab a sign. We’re going to stop this debate.”

Logan opens her mouth to respond, but a burst of laughter cuts her off.