KITTY FELT AS IF ALL THE AIR HAD BEEN SUCKED OUT OF HER lungs as she stared at the computer, dumbstruck.
“Asshole!” Bree said, taking the word out of Kitty’s mouth. “Is that shit on the internet?”
Margot shook her head. “It was just a DVD. But it’s only a matter of time before it gets around.”
“How did you find it?” Olivia asked.
Margot tugged at the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “It was meant for Rex. He rammed into me at the assembly, and our bags went flying. The DVD must have gotten mixed up with my stuff.”
“We should call the police,” Kitty said through clenched teeth. “Can’t he be prosecuted?”
“He was smart,” Margot said. “Got Mika to ask him to make out with her, and didn’t film anything more incriminating than that. If she’d gone to the police or the hospital that day, maybe they could have done something. But as it is, I’m not even sure she knows the video exists.”
Kitty shot to her feet and started pacing the warehouse floor. “We can’t let that video go public. We have to do something.”
“Whoa,” Bree said. “I thought we had a rule? At least six weeks between missions to let the heat die down.”
Kitty raised her eyebrows. “Since when do you care about the rules?”
“Since never.” Bree walked up to the computer screen and clicked on Ronny’s Facebook page. “‘Ronny DeStefano,’” she read out loud. “‘Bishop DuMaine Preparatory School,’ blah-blah-blah.” She glanced up. “Oh, this guy’s a winner. ‘Religious views—chicks. Political views—lots of chicks.’”
Olivia recrossed her legs. “Well, this shouldn’t be too hard.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Margot said. She pulled a file folder out of her bag and handed it to Bree. “Address and personal information. Ronny moved in with his dad and stepmother last spring after abruptly leaving his old school in Arizona, a private reform institution called Archway Military Academy.”
Bree’s head snapped up. “Archway Military Academy?”
“You’ve heard of it?” Kitty asked.
“Yeah.” Bree paused. “Probably on the news or something.” She turned her focus back to her chipped polish.
Despite the casual action, Kitty noticed that Bree’s shoulders were tense and her breaths came more quickly than a moment before. Why had the name Archway bothered her?
Kitty filed the thought away for another time. It wasn’t important at the moment. If they were going to move against Ronny, they needed to get the ball rolling as soon as possible. “Time’ll be short on this one and we’ve got two main goals: delete the video and find a way to make Ronny pay.”
Margot nodded. “It’ll have to be done from his home computer, like we did with Coach Creed.” She glanced at Bree. “Which means you’ll have to break in.”
Bree rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”
“Margot will figure out the DeStefanos’ home security situation and I’ll start with background research,” Kitty continued rapidly. “Bree, do some recon. Find out where he hangs out and who his friends are.”
“Yay,” Bree said unenthusiastically. “You two get to sit at home on your computers while I hide in the bushes again.”
Kitty ignored her. “Olivia, initiate contact. Get his interest and keep it.”
Olivia squinted at Ronny’s profile photo. “Why can’t we ever have hot targets?”
“I’ll go with you,” Margot said. “I can try to clone his phone while you keep him occupied.”
“So we’re going to do this, right?” Kitty asked. “We’re all agreed?”
Olivia and Margot nodded, but Bree didn’t move.
“We all have to be on board,” Kitty said, more pointedly. “Breaking our timeline rule will make this mission even more dangerous.” She thrust her right hand forward.
“I, Kitty Wei, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
Margot was beside her in an instant, her right arm extended.
“I, Margot Mejia, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
Kitty grasped Margot’s wrist through the thick layer of her XXL sweater as Olivia extended her right arm with a ballerina’s elegance.
“I, Olivia Hayes, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
Margot linked Olivia into the square, then all three of them turned to Bree. The square was incomplete without her presence—her wrist linked to Olivia, her hand grasping Kitty—and she knew it.
“Tell me something,” Bree said, her eyes suspicious. “Would you be asking us to do this if the victim wasn’t one of your best friends?”
“Honestly?” Kitty asked.
“No, lie to me.”
Kitty sighed. Bree was right: it was risky planning another mission this soon after their plot against Coach Creed, and she needed to remind everyone—herself included—of the stakes. “There’s a lot on the line if we get caught,” Kitty said. “We could get kicked out of school.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Bree muttered.
“But we started Don’t Get Mad for a reason—to seek justice for classmates who are too scared to speak up for themselves.” It was good to hear, good to remind herself why they put themselves on the line. “So I’d like to think that if I saw a video this horrific, victimizing someone I didn’t know, I’d have the same reaction.”
Bree stared at her for a moment, then without a word, she thrust her arm forward.
“I, Bree Deringer, do solemnly swear, no secrets—ever—shall leave this square.”
The square was complete, everyone was in agreement about the plan, but Kitty still looked each of them in the eye, just to make sure. She didn’t see a hint of doubt in anyone.
“Ronny’s a predator,” she said. “And we can stop him from hurting someone else.” Kitty thrust out her chin. “Don’t get mad!”
All four girls answered in strong, solid unison.
“Get even!”
