She flushes a little. “No! I mean, probably, I guess? I don’t know! But that is not the point!”

“Is he a burlesque dancer?” Taylor says.

“He has keys,” Katherine says. “He has security codes. He knows every building. He can get in everywhere.”

Taylor waggles his eyebrows at that, and Katherine whacks him on the shoulder as Nevaeh protects her face from the mayhem.

“So,” I say slowly, trying to catch up with her thought process, “you want this Jack guy to help us?” I realize I am uncomfortable with the idea of letting someone else in on this. “Katherine—” I start.

She looks at me expectantly, pleased with herself.

I amend what I’m going to say. “Aren’t there other ways to get into campus buildings?”

“After dark, though?” Nevaeh says. “How are we going to get in anywhere after lights off and lockup?”

“But—” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I worry that it could make this more unsafe for all of us.”

“We can trust him,” Katherine says. “I like him; I really do.”

Her tiny bit of extra enthusiasm for him aside, she does have good taste in people. I know that. I’m twisting my fingers together in my lap anyway.

“We can think about—” I start to say, but Katherine interrupts.

“I mean it, though. I’ve been thinking about this. I think we need him.”

“Maybe we don’t need him,” I say.

“We might need him,” Nevaeh says.

I look at Taylor.

“I think we need him,” he says, lifting a shoulder.

“Traitor!” I say, and sigh. “Okay. I trust you, I do. But I’m nervous.” I’m terrified, actually, and I think this is the worst idea. “Can we meet him before we decide anything?”

“Of course!” Katherine says. “I would love for you all to meet him! I would love for him to meet you too.”

A flash catches my eye, lighting up my phone screen. Contact not found. Message: Did you *really* block me?;) I flip it over as the senior-curfew warning chimes and Katherine asks Nevaeh what’s wrong. Nevaeh is looking at her own phone.

“It’s just trolls,” Nevaeh says. She hands the phone to Taylor.

“Another terrible one,” he says. “The lighting is tragic.”

“I’ve seen worse,” Nevaeh says.

“God, Nevaeh, how many dick pics do you get?” he says, sounding serious now.

She shrugs. “A couple. A few. A bunch. Sometimes the dickstorm picks up, sometimes it dies down. You know there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But could you report it somewhere—” I start.

“What would anyone do?” Nevaeh says. “They keep coming, I’ll keep blocking them.”

“They are udickquitous!” Katherine blurts out. We all pause. “That was a pun,” she adds.

Nevaeh breaks into a guffaw like I have never heard from her, and I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe, and Taylor flops over onto his side, wheezing.