Hush, Hush #1 by Becca Fitzpatrick Page B

register it with the nurse. Do you know if that’s correct?” I couldn’t believe I was standing here, intending to do something illegal. As of late, I was exhibiting a lot of uncharacteristic behavior. First I’d followed Patch to a disreputable arcade late at night. Now I was on the verge of snooping in his student file. What was the matter with me? No—what was the matter with Patch, that when it came to him, I couldn’t seem to stop exercising bad judgment?
    “Oh, yes,” the secretary said solemnly. “All drugs need to be registered.
    Nurse’s office is back through there, third door on the left, across from student records.” She gestured into the hallway behind her. “If the nurse isn’t there, you can take a seat on the cot inside her office. She should be back any minute.”
    I fabricated another smile. I’d really hoped it wouldn’t be this easy.

    68
    Heading down the hall, I stopped several times to check over my shoulder. Nobody came up behind me. The phone out in the front office was ringing, but it sounded a world apart from the dim corridor where I stood. I was all alone, free to do as I pleased.
    I came to a stop at the third door on the left. I sucked in a breath and knocked, but it was obvious from the darkened window that the room was empty. I pushed on the door. It moved with reluctance, creaking open on a compact room with scuffed white tiles. I stood in the entrance a moment, almost wishing the nurse would appear so I’d have no choice but to register my iron pills and leave. A quick glance across the hall revealed a door with a window marked STUDENT RECORDS. It too was dark.
    I focused my attention on a nagging thought at the back of my mind.
    Patch claimed that he hadn’t gone to school last year. I was pretty sure he was lying, but if he wasn’t, would he even have a student record?
    He’d have a home address at the very least, I reasoned. And an immunization card, and last semester’s grades. Still. Possible suspension seemed like a large price to pay for a peek at Patch’s immunization card.
    I leaned one shoulder against the wall and checked my watch. Vee had told me to wait for her signal. She said it would be obvious.
    Great.
    The phone in the front office rang again, and the secretary picked up.
    Chewing my lip, I stole a second glimpse at the door labeled STUDENT
    RECORDS. There was a good chance it was locked. Student files were probably considered high security. It didn’t matter what kind of diversion Vee created; if the door was locked, I wasn’t getting in.

    69
    I shifted my backpack to the opposite shoulder. Another minute ticked down. I told myself maybe I should leave… .
    On the other hand, what if Vee was right and he was stalking me? As his bio partner, regular contact with him could place me in danger. I had a responsibility to protect myself … didn’t I?
    If the door was unlocked and the files were alphabetized, I would have no trouble locating Patch’s quickly. Add another few seconds to skim his file for red flags, and I could probably be in and out of the room in under a minute. Which was so brief it might not feel like I’d entered at all.
    Things had grown unusually quiet out in the front office. Suddenly Vee rounded the corner. She edged down the wall toward me, walking in a crouch, dragging her hands along the wall, stealing surreptitious glances over her shoulder. It was the kind of walk spies adopted in old movies.
    “Everything is under control,” she whispered.
    “What happened to the secretary?”
    “She had to leave the office for a minute.”
    “ Had to? You didn’t incapacitate her, did you?”
    “Not this time.”
    Thank goodness for small mercies.
    “I called in a bomb threat from the pay phone outside,” Vee said. “The secretary dialed the police, then ran off to find the principal.”
    “Vee!”

    70
    She tapped her wrist. “Clock’s ticking. We don’t want to be in here when the cops arrive.”
    Tell me about it.
    Vee