Free League of Strays by L. B. Schulman Page B

think of anything else. If the police questioned us, who would dissolve under pressure and start talking? Not me, that much I knew. My parents would go ballistic if they found out. Kade wasn’t going to spill anything; the League had been his brainchild in the first place. Richie didn’t sneeze without Kade’s permission. But what about Nora? Miss Perfect might crawl into her parents’ arms to dump her guilt. She seemed desperate for their attention. Zoe was an unknown, too. She might have a hard outer shell, but inside I suspected she was soft as room-temperature butter.
    When the last bell rang, I dumped the contents of my locker into my backpack and flew out the door. Nora had a tutoring job on Thursdays, so by default, I decided to find Zoe. I needed to know how committed she was to the League.
    Slow down, Charlotte.
People will stare.
    I spotted the yellow dumpster stuffed with tar paper at the end of the block. I ducked behind it and took out my phone.
    “Hello?” Mom answered.
    “Hi, Mom.”
    “Hi, hon! How was school? Are you calling me from there? You know they don’t allow cell phones on campus.”
    I sighed. “Not in class, but we can use them everywhere else. Anyway, listen, I’m waiting for this girl to help me with calculus.”
    “Oh, really? Who is she?”
    “Just a girl. Anyway, I’ll be home in an hour.”
    “No. No,” she said. “Don’t rush. Dinner won’t be ready for a while. Maybe you can become friends? See if you have any interests in common—does she play an instrument?”
    A parade of kids walked past the dumpster. Still no sign of Zoe.
    “Oh, there she is! Gotta go, Mom. Bye.” I disconnected the call.
    I didn’t need intricate lies to get out of the house. All I had to do was say the word “friend” and Mom would boot me out the door.
    My skinned knee throbbed as I waited, and now my foothad fallen asleep. As I stomped it on the ground, I caught a blur of military green out of the corner of my eye. I dropped to a crouch and peered around the dumpster.
    Zoe was walking down the middle of the street, kicking a soda can. When she passed by, I flicked the grimy pebbles from my jeans and trailed behind her. I felt like a TV cop, darting behind cars in pursuit of an armed criminal. The ambiguous boundaries of Kade’s “no talking” rule kept me at a distance.
    Zoe slowed in front of a mustard-colored house. Cracked cement scarred the short driveway. Old paint curled from the garage door like banana peels. She stepped over a picket fence that was missing a post and ran up the porch steps. As she fumbled through her backpack for a key, I made my move.
    “Um, Zoe?”
    She whirled around. “Jesus, Charlotte. You almost gave me a heart attack!”
    “Sorry.”
    “Were you following me?”
    “I was on my way to a babysitting job,” I lied.
    “In West Glenwood? Give me a break. People on this street can’t afford babysitters.”
    I tried to laugh, but it came out like a pig squeal. “It’s a few blocks from here.”
    “Are you in a hurry?”
    I shrugged.
    “Come on in.” She disappeared into the house.
    The living room was dark. Shades were drawn over everywindow. Zoe zigzagged through the room, snapping each one up. I followed her into the world’s smallest kitchen. Dirty dishes filled every inch of counter space. She glanced around, then dove for the empty vodka bottle, stuffing it down into an already full trash can.
    I tried to sound casual. “So, what did you think about that assembly?”
    She opened the refrigerator. “You mean the one a few days ago?”
    As if there’d been another.
    “Whatever,” she said.
    “Do you think Mr. Reid was serious, you know, about hunting us down?”
    “Are you kidding? He’ll be on to something else soon enough.” She held up a yogurt, examined its expiration date, and chucked it into the trash. “Like the cleavage on display with the new cheerleader uniforms. Did you see June Martin today?”
    I shook my head.
    Zoe burst