Skylar Robbins: The Mystery of the Hidden Jewels - Carrie Cross (most popular novels of all time TXT) 📗

Duh. Why hadn’t I thought of it without asking him? And besides, did Sharon even deserve my help? I remembered the satisfied look on her face when she kicked my papers across the aisle. Dustin tapped his pencil on his desk like the whole issue was uninteresting.

“Good idea. Thanks,” I said, opening my science book and dropping the subject like I was bored with it too. If he found out Emelyn was threatening to beat me up if I didn’t un-invite him to the dance, he’d know I had a motive for ratting her out. Thanks to him, now it would be up to Sharon.

After class I walked down the hall by the cafeteria. I knew exactly where Sharon’s locker was. She’d pasted stickers from a boy band all over it, then had gotten in trouble and was told to remove them. She tried, but strips of cute guys’ heads still stuck to the door. I stood in front of her locker and waited. Moments later Sharon plodded down the hall, staring at her feet.

I stepped into her path. “Sharon,” I whispered. She looked at me and backed up a smidge, like she was surprised that someone was actually talking to her. Curling my finger, I motioned for her to follow me around the corner like I had something Top Secret to tell her. Which I did. We hurried to the end of the hall and walked behind the wall, hiding in the teachers’ parking lot. “I know who has your Cross pen.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s pretending to be your friend. You have to promise you won’t say who told you.”

Sharon nodded. “OK.” She stared into my eyes, waiting to find out who had betrayed her. Afraid and angry at the same time. “Who stole it?”

“You need to tell a T.A. or a teacher. Don’t just confront her or she’ll deny it. Her purse needs to be searched. Today. By an adult. Understand?” I looked around. If one of them came out to the parking lot and caught us standing there we’d need an excuse, fast.

Sharon nodded. “Exactly. Who took it?”

“Emelyn Peters,” I said quickly. “She stole it right off your desk in English.”

Sharon’s face fell as she realized the coolest girl in school wasn’t so cool after all, and wasn’t her friend either. Her eyebrows scrunched like what she decided to do would be life-changing. One of the biggest, most important choices she would ever make. Then she looked up at me and nodded, ever so slightly. Like a decision had been made.

“Come on. We have to get to class,” I said, and we hurried back into the hall. Three cheerleaders marched toward us giggling loudly, then hushing their voices to a whisper when they passed as if their conversation was way too juicy to let us overhear.

Sharon watched them walk away, knowing they were in a club she would never be allowed to join. “I’m sorry I was mean to you in class,” she said, staring at the ground. “Emelyn said you were trying to take Dustin away from her. And some other stuff about you that—probably isn’t true.” This made my stomach twitch. Sharon looked up at me through her glasses. “Nobody popular ever paid attention to me before.”

“It’s OK, Sharon,” I said, forgiving her. “I get it.”

“Yeah, right.”

The look on her face told me I would never understand how she felt, and that she knew I really didn’t get it at all. Didn’t understand the loneliness she felt, because I had a BFF and other friends. Lots of Facebook likes popped up any time I posted anything, and I was in plenty of popular kids’ Instagram pics. I didn’t get the attention of every boy in our grade, but I got enough.

“OK,” Sharon said, staring at her feet, then up at me. “So what should I do?”

I looked around to make sure none of Emelyn’s friends were near enough to hear us. “You should tell somebody now, while she still has your pen on her. Otherwise it will be impossible to prove she stole it.” I raked my hair behind my ear, hoping she would listen to me and take my advice. Hoping she wouldn’t turn on me, run to Emelyn, and rat me out for snitching.

“You’re right,” Sharon said. She stomped down the hall, heading for Principal Martinez’s office with a determination in her step that I’d never seen before. My stomach sank as I thought about what I’d started.

I didn’t know it then, but my own nightmare was about to begin.

26

After school I had gymnastics practice and stretched, kicked, jumped, and tumbled until my muscles were aching and sweat was trickling down my sides. When I got home I was so slammed with homework that I didn’t have time to worry about Emelyn Peters, UN-inviting Dustin, or Sharon Greenburg’s stolen pen. I couldn’t work on the clues in the rusty metal box with Smack’s crew roaming all over our house, so I hid the box above the false ceiling in my office cupboard where I was pretty sure they wouldn’t find it.

Taking a break from doing my homework, I decided to go downstairs to watch TV. I headed down the first few stairs, and flinched when I saw Ignado coming up toward me with a mean look on his face. Seven steps separated us. I wasn’t about to back off. So I climbed down two more steps.

Ignado stomped up three more stairs.

We stopped face to face and his brown eye glared at me. Ignado shook his head like he was giving me a warning. I moved to my right, and he waited a second before leaning sideways to let me pass. I skipped down the stairs with my heart beating hard, smelling the harsh stench of B.O. he had left behind.

Moments later I was in the den. I turned on the TV and flicked through the channels, but I didn’t even notice what was on. Cartoons. A stupid show that was supposed to be funny. What was Crew Gang up to? Infomercial. They have a clue that I don’t have. Click, click, click. Sports. News. Danger. Think.

I pushed a button on the clicker, back to the news. “Tonight, clues left behind by an East L.A. gang led to their arrest in the recent desecration of several graves at the Forest Lawn cemetery.” Clues left behind. Something I missed. The guilty smirk on Ignado’s face.

Trigger.

Tearing up the spiral stairs to my office, I dragged the stepstool over to the cupboard. I reached up and removed the panel that hid the false ceiling, and then felt around with my hand. The rusty metal box was still there. Smack and his crew hadn’t found it. I climbed off the stepstool and ran down the spiral staircase into my bedroom.

Peeking under my bed, I dragged out my detective kit. It was closed and locked, the digits still in the order I always leave them: 6-2-9. Crew Gang hadn’t tampered with it.

But something was up. I sensed it.

I read a boring history chapter and studied for my science test. I kept my door open a crack so I could hear if anyone was coming. My parents insisted I keep an A average and I hadn’t disappointed them yet, but elementary school had been easy. Middle school was a different story. Challenging in more ways than one, I thought, picturing Emelyn and her friends threatening me. Not to mention what was going on inside my very own house. Dinner’s ready, my mom texted me just as I finished studying science, and I walked downstairs.

“Hi Skylar,” my dad said, squeezing my shoulder. “How was school today?” We sat down at the table and my mom served up chicken, vegetables, and rice.

I pushed peas around on my plate, knowing I’d have trouble swallowing if I put a pile of them into my mouth. “OK,” I lied. Then I set down my fork and my eyes filled with tears. I swiped them away with the back of my hand, hoping no one had noticed.

They had. My mom looked at me and forgot all about the food. “Honey, what’s wrong?” She rested her hand on top of mine. My dad’s jaw muscles bulged as he chewed a bite of chicken, watching my face while he waited for me to answer.

Gritting my teeth and forcing the tears away, I decided not to keep what was happening in school a secret any longer. The words tumbled out of my mouth so fast that they barely made sense. “Yesterday Emelyn Peters and her friends threatened to beat me up unless I un-invite Dustin to the dance, since she wants him to go with her. She said if I don’t un-invite him I’ll get my butt kicked when I least expect it.”

“They threatened you?” my dad asked, looking at my mom and then at the phone like he was ready to stand up and do something about it.

And they’re not the only ones, I thought, thinking about Crew Gang. “Then they gave me dirty looks all day, so I followed Emelyn after class—”

“You did?” My mom raised her eyebrows. Following someone to stand up for myself in a confrontation was so not me that she couldn’t believe it.

When I remembered the evidence I’d gathered, I smiled. “—and I took a picture of her with her hand way up inside the vending machine.”

My dad looked up from cutting into his chicken. “Stealing?”

“Uh-huh. I got her on my cell taking a whole bunch of snacks without paying.”

“Good girl,” my mom said. “Did you turn her in?”

“Not exactly.”

My dad waited calmly for me to continue but my mom frowned. “Why not?” she asked.

“Because I saw her steal an expensive pen this morning, and then I did tell someone. Dustin Coles was on Student Council so I told him. He suggested I tell Sharon Greenburg, who Emelyn stole the pen from, and let her handle it.”

My dad looked at me. “Good advice,” he said, scooping up a forkful of peas. I knew he was debating something he wasn’t saying. Like I could have done more. Should have taken charge. I wasn’t exactly feeling good about my detective skills.

“I think you should have handled it yourself to make sure someone in authority found out,” my mom said. She had completely stopped eating.

“They will, Mom. Sharon went straight to the principal’s office after I told her who stole her Cross pen.” I twisted the corner of my napkin into a tight spiral.

“Good for her,” my mom said pointedly, like it should have been me marching down the hall and tattling instead.

“It’s not like I just chickened out and haven’t done anything,” I said, sticking up for myself, “just because I didn’t squeal on Emelyn myself.” I took a small bite of rice.

“So Skylar,” my father said, staring at me with a little smile on his face, “what else is there that you’d like to discuss with us?” He drummed his fingers on the table. My dad always saw right through me. I couldn’t lie to him.

I set down my fork and took a deep breath. “I’ve been figuring out Xandra Collins’s clues.”

My mom and dad looked at me expectantly. It was time to come clean. So I spilled it.

By the time we were finished with our meal my parents were totally amazed with me. And unbelievably, they weren’t mad. Yet.

I ran up the stairs ahead of them, eager to show them my detective notes and the box of clues. They had seen me tiptoeing around the backyard with the map in my hands, so they knew I was up to something. It felt so good not to have to sneak around behind their backs anymore that I could hardly stand it. The only thing I left out was the part about the construction workers threatening me. There was no way I could let my mom know I was searching for the jewels and getting terrorized by a bunch of bikers in the process. I’d be grounded for the rest of my life for taking risks again. No backwards dance, no jewels, no Dustin. No fun again, ever.

Forget it.

Besides, these jokers were so far behind me it wasn’t even funny. I could post a YouTube video on how to locate clues and Smack couldn’t find one if it was hidden in his underwear. They weren’t scaring me off with their stupid threats. My mom and dad would definitely forbid me to continue my search if they knew I was putting myself in danger.