Before he could say anything, a weird look crossed Ajay’s face. Like he’d just been ordered to do something. He stood up quickly, picked up his tray, turned around, and ran straight into someone.
Lyle Ogilvy had walked up behind him without a sound. When Ajay hit him, his tray toppled and the remains of Ajay’s breakfast scattered. A partially eaten waffle plopped onto Lyle’s right wingtip. Maple syrup oozed between the laces.
“I’m so terribly sorry,” said Ajay, turning ashen.
“Yes, you are,” said Lyle calmly, without moving. “Clean that up. Now.”
“Of course, Lyle, right away.”
The room grew quiet around them. Ajay fumbled a fistful of napkins from the dispenser on the table. Lyle never took his eyes off Will.
“You don’t have to do that, Ajay,” said Will.
“No, it’s no trouble at all. My fault entirely.”
Will reached out and stayed Ajay’s hand. “Don’t.”
“Please, Will,” whispered Ajay. “It’s better if I do.”
Will stood up as Ajay bent down to clean Lyle’s shoe. Lyle looked at Will and smiled pleasantly.
“You didn’t give him room to get up,” said Will. “That was your fault.”
“Why don’t you clean it up for him, then?” said Lyle, his smile broadening.
Kids all around them turned to watch. Todd Hodak and a couple of other bruisers drifted their way. Ajay looked up at Will, from his hands and knees, silently pleading with him not to interfere.
Lyle leaned in and whispered, “I know about you. I know all about you.”
Will picked up their table’s maple syrup dispenser and stepped next to Lyle. He lowered his voice and leaned in so only he could hear, and grabbed Lyle’s belt. “Question for you, Lyle,” Will whispered back. “You ever sat through class with a pint of maple syrup down your pants?”
The smile left Lyle’s face. Vivid red dots appeared on his cheeks.
“No?” asked Will. “Want to try?”
Ajay paused over Lyle’s foot, looking up, unsure what to do.
“Sell ‘scary hall monitor’ someplace else,” whispered Will. “I’m not buying.”
Lyle turned abruptly and stalked away. The shoe with syrup on it squeaked with every step and made his odd splayed gait even more ungainly. Todd Hodak and the other older kids flocked around Lyle. Will caught Brooke’s eye: She’d watched the whole exchange and flashed him a subtle thumbs-up.
“Put that down and follow me,” said Ajay. “Fast.”
Will followed him outside, where Ajay pulled Will around the corner. They sprinted out of sight. Glancing back, they saw Todd Hodak and two others run out of the union looking for them.
Ajay pushed Will back against the building, out of sight. “Good God, man, are you completely insane?”
“He was out of line,” said Will.
“But you can’t treat Lyle Ogilvy that way—”
“No, he can’t treat you that way. And next time he’ll think twice about it,” said Will. “Why did you stand up so suddenly like that?”
“I don’t know,” said Ajay, looking confused. “I guess … I guess I thought it was time to go and … I don’t really remember standing up, to be honest. Why?”
“Just curious,” said Will.
“Anyway, my sincerest thanks for interceding. But next time, please, let’s discuss these things in advance.”
Will agreed. They shook hands as they parted.
“I trust you, too, Ajay,” said Will.
Will found Nordby Hall without trouble and was outside Dr. Robbins’s office when she hurried in at two minutes to nine wearing a fawn-colored suede skirt, brown boots, and a ribbed cream turtleneck sweater. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold.
“Dad’s rule number fifty-four,” said Will. “If you can’t be on time, be early.”
“I like that one. Come on in.”
He followed Robbins into her office, which was full of morning light from windows that looked over the campus. Big canvases—seaside landscape paintings—dominated two walls, spare images of surf and sand in pale soothing colors. Her desk was made of glass and stainless steel, her bookshelves thick chunks of glass suspended on cables. No clutter, everything clean and efficient, including a large relaxed sofa, a coffee table, and two chairs. Will wondered if she counseled students while they sat on that sofa; Robbins was, after all, a psychologist. He made a point of sitting in a chair instead.
“So how was your first evening? Did you meet all your roommates?”
He told her the other kids had taken him out to dinner and that they all seemed very nice. She sat across from him, holding two folders.
“I asked Mr. McBride to come by so we can discuss your schedule, but before I get to that …” She opened one of the folders on the table. “After what you told me yesterday, I requested a copy of the test you took in September.”
Will read NATIONAL SCHOLASTIC EVALUATION AGENCY across the top of a bound text, about sixteen pages long. He recognized the questions on the first page.
“Is that yours?” she asked.
The proctor in charge had used a machine to stamp each copy when kids turned them in. The stamp on Will’s read 11:43 a.m.
“It looks like it.”
“The test began at nine o’clock. You had three hours to complete it. You turned yours in at seventeen minutes to noon—look at the time stamp. You told me you finished it in twenty minutes.” She didn’t sound mad, or accusatory, just neutral.
“I did,” said Will.
“Why didn’t you turn it in when you finished?”
“Same reason. I waited until half the group turned theirs in first—”
“So you wouldn’t stand out. I get it. Do you have any way to prove that you finished it in twenty minutes?”
“No. But that’s the truth.”
Robbins took a moment, collecting her thoughts. She set a single page in front of him: the results of his test from the National Scholastic Evaluation Agency.
“You answered every question correctly,” she said. “Four hundred and seventy-five questions. Science, math, logic, English, and reading comprehension. Explain how you could have done that in twenty minutes if you weren’t trying—”
“I can’t, I don’t know—”
“—and how this was part of your plan to blend in?”
“I didn’t mean to do that. I only glanced at it. I didn’t try to get them wrong on purpose. I just checked the first thing that came into my head.”
“So how do we account for it? Luck? Intuition? They’ve been conducting these tests for decades and this has never happened before. Not once, out of millions. You didn’t see a copy of the test beforehand, did you?”
“No. They didn’t even tell us ahead of time. They just showed up that day and laid it on us.”
Robbins looked at him hard. “Well, I don’t know what to think about this.”
Will’s heart raced to the edge of panic. “Do you think I cheated? Are you going to take back my scholarship?”
“No, Will. That’s not even a consideration. As unlikely as this seems, I believe you. Not only do I think you deserve to be here, but also I believe you need to be. I can’t tell you exactly why I feel that way, any more than I can explain how this happened.”
Will thought about it. “Who else could have seen these results?”
“I don’t know, outside of the Agency,” she said, then looked up at him alertly. “You think the people who came looking for you had access to your test.”