“Oh, don’t worry,” said Jackson, who rubbed his hands together like a supervillain. “He’ll never know what’s coming.”

The group waited for a few seconds, and then . . .

“Hey, Mike!” Aishah screamed.

Héctor moved to the side of the doorway and gazed down the hall. Sure enough, Mike spun around.

“What do you want?” he spat.

Frank appeared behind him.

“Ugh, it’s Aishah,” he said. “Does she even wash her hair with that thing on?”

“Funny you say that, Frank,” she shot back. “Do you wash that peach fuzz you call a mustache, or is that just left over after you drink from the toilet?”

Héctor was pretty sure that his spirit exited his body at that moment. A couple kids who were walking by stopped to stare at Aishah.

“What did you say?” Frank stalked forward, but Mike put his hand out, stopping him.

“I got this,” said Mike.

“Do you?” said Carlos. “Or are you gonna ask your dad to do your homework again?”

Mike’s jaw dropped. “Bro,” he said. “What are you doing with them?”

“I think the better question is what I was doing with you,” Carlos shot back. “They’re way better friends than you ever were.”

Héctor watched as Mike shook his head. “Whatever, man,” he said. “I don’t need this.”

And then Mike turned around and started to walk away.

There were no more taunts or threats; just the sound of shoes on tile as everyone shuffled toward the auditorium.

No! Héctor thought. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

But before he could panic further, Jackson started cackling. “I always knew you were actually a coward,” he said, drawing out that last word. “A wimp. A loser.”

Mike spun back around. “Never,” he said. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Am I?” said Jackson. “I’m not the one here who looks like a giant Cabbage Patch Kid.”

That was it. Without another word, Mike and Frank sprinted toward the Misfits and the chase was on.

Héctor really hoped this would work.

He took a deep breath. The next step: he had to will the Room to let him out backstage in the auditorium. He needed it; he wasn’t sure he could sneak backstage in time.

You can do it, he thought.

He opened the door.

And stared at Mrs. Caroline, who sat at her desk.

His heart leaped into his throat. What? Why had the Room sent him here?

Mrs. Caroline looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Héctor,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the spirit assembly, though?”

“Ummmm.”

That’s all that came out of his mouth. Just a sound. So he slammed the door and leaned against it. No, he told the Room. That is not what I need.

He opened it again.

Mrs. Caroline was standing up now, and she started to approach him. “Héctor?” she said, her tone worried. “Everything okay?”