Secret of the Sevens by Lynn Lindquist

“I was googling articles on the Society of Seven tonight. Nothing came up except some lame ’80s pop band, which I guess makes sense since it’s a secret society.”
    â€œIs that it? I’d like to finish this game before lights-out.”
    She eyes me with disdain. “No, that’s not ‘it.’ I got an email from the Sevens. See if you got one too.”
    A cold current zips down my spine. She pulls a chair out for me and watches out the door as I log in.
    A single message appears:
    To: [email protected]
From: Number 7
    Dear Pledge:
    You will be given seven tests to prove your worth and loyalty prior to your initiation into the Society of Seven.
    Commit the following poem to memory. Your first test depends on it.
    When darkness fills you up with fright,
Tread straight, straight, straight into the night.
Left, right, left—the soldier’s pace—
Until it leads right to a place
Where everything you thought you knew,
Will turn around. And you will, too.
Left to sort what’s wrong from right,
And why you’re going to have to fight,
to take what’s left
and make it right.
    My fingers twitch on the keyboard as my heart pounds. It takes a minute to unscramble my thoughts.
    Laney moves from her post and reads the email over my shoulder. “Yep, that’s the same one I got.” She heads back to the door and says, “Print the poem and then delete the email.”
    â€œSo you think this is real?”
    â€œTalan, how can you even question it at this point? Yes, it’s real, and maybe once in your life you can be serious and step up. I know you’re smart, but sometimes you really don’t act like it.”
    I’d have no problem stepping up if I knew what I was stepping up to.
    I’m pulling my copy from the printer when Laney turns suddenly, waving her arms like a traffic cop. “Mom’s coming.” She rushes to a desk at the opposite end of the room and fakes zipping her backpack closed.
    Mom calls through the door, “Time for bed.”
    I bury the paper deep in my pocket like I’m hiding heroin. It makes me think of my mother.

Nine
    The next morning, I corner Laney by her locker before school. “Did you memorize the poem?”
    She enters her combination. “Yep. Did you?”
    â€œYeah, but I’m still not sure about this, Laney. We do have friends who know both our email addresses.”
    She cuts me off with a loud squeak and slams her locker closed again. “Talan, there’s a black envelope inside my locker.”
    My pulse racing, I scan the crowded hallway. “No one’s looking. Open it.”
    â€œHere?”
    â€œNo. In the women’s bathroom. I’ll follow you inside and we can read it together in a stall. I’m sure no one will notice us there.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, here. I’ll be your lookout. Just open it.”
    With her hands inside her locker, she slides a handwritten note out of the envelope. “If this is a prank, it’s a great one. How’d they get this in here? The slots are too narrow for it to fit through.”
    I shrug and check the hall for prying eyes. “What’s it say?”
    She reads softly:
    First Test - Courage:
    â€œCourage is found in unlikely places.” - J.R.R. Tolkien
    Time: This Evening, 7:00 P.M.
    Place: Rear Elevator, First Floor, Jefferson Library.
    1. Close with 2
2. Seven times the LL
3. Seven times the Help
    She stares at it, then stuffs the paper inside her math book. “What the heck does that even mean?” The hallway’s getting busier, so she leans close and whispers, “You should check if you got one. Maybe yours has different clues.”
    Her lips graze my cheek, and I get the strangest rush. Out of nowhere, I imagine being kissed by those lips. And liking it.
    â€œO-okay,” I mutter. “You wait here.”
    My head is still buzzing as I walk down to my locker. Inside, I