on him. “What if I told you that you wouldn’t be able to crack a safe? What would you do?”
“Learn how to crack it, then crack it,” I admitted. “As fast as I could.”
“Well, then, there you have it. Roux and you sound very similar. Let me know how it works out.”
“We sound similar? Really?”
“Very much so, yes. Witty, talented, and in need of a friend.” He patted the top of my head and neatly balanced his empty cup on top of an already overflowing trash can. “Let me know if you need any costume ideas.” He gestured to his pinstripe navy suit. “I can be quite dapper.”
“So are penguins!” I yelled as he disappeared around the corner, but I wasn’t sure if he heard me. It was probably for the best if he didn’t.
Chapter 7
On Thursday morning, I waited for Roux to find me. I’m not a patient person, as you can imagine. I hate waiting. My dad always says that I would be terrible on a stakeout and could probably never work for the FBI. I replied that I couldn’t work for the FBI because of that whole Luxembourg thing, much less my lack of patience.
Anyway, waiting. I hate it.
And waiting for Roux was even worse. If my reverse psychology plan didn’t work, then I’d be stuck going to Jesse Oliver’s party by myself, and it’d be nearly impossible to snoop around if I didn’t have a sidekick to distract everyone else while I dug through personal files and whatnot. By the time third period rolled around and I still hadn’t seen Roux, I was convinced that she was out sick, or worse, was trapped under something heavy in her apartment. When I didn’t see her by fourth period, I was sure that she had contracted and succumbed to smallpox, all within a twenty-four-hour period.
When I finally saw Roux in the courtyard at lunch, I ran over to her and gave her the biggest hug imaginable. “I’m so glad you’re alive!” I gasped.
“Mmmmpphow.”
“What?” I took a step back.
Roux looked annoyed. “Why are you hugging me?”
“Oh. Sorry.” I let go of her and hastily straightened the lapels on her school uniform. She seemed, in a word, displeased. “Sorry, I just didn’t see you and I was worried that maybe you were sick or something.”
“I am. I was just crushed to death.” She smoothed her hair, then shook it out again. “My ribs hurt.”
“Sorry,” I said again. “Do you need an Ace bandage?”
“Like a hole in the head. What’s up?”
I sighed deeply, just like I had practiced in the mirror the night before. “I just wanted to apologize to you.”
She frowned. “For what?”
I sighed again and drew a line on the ground with my toe, just like I had seen Roux do when she was so contrite the other day. “Oh, you know, just bugging you about the party. I know it makes you uncomfortable and you probably don’t want to go to parties anymore.”
“Well, it’s not that I don’t want to go—”
“And you’ve probably got better things to do than show me around my first party. I’m sure I can get the hang of things from the other girls there.”
She raised an eyebrow. “The other girls? Sweetie, you’ll be innocent chum in the shark-infested waters. Remember what I said about dirt? The only thing worse is a personwho goes to a party alone .” She made it sound like being alone was on par with having a bedbug infestation.
“Whatever. I’ll survive. Everyone has to go to their first party sometime, right? I’ll be making memories that’ll last a lifetime.” Now I was completely improvising and starting to sound like a bad Hallmark commercial. “Gotta build up that party callus, after all.”
“Did you just call it a party callus ?” Roux looked toward the sky. “Give me strength, you’re going to be socially murdered.”
“I’ve survived worse!” I said brightly. “At least we can be social outcasts together!”
“Okay,” Roux interrupted me. “I cannot in good faith, or in any sort of faith, let this happen.” She put her hand on my