Trois
Mandel looked down the hallway and saw a short, brown-haired girl walking towards him. He quickly started drinking from the water fountain, but she didn’t take the hint.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “Mandel Harris, right?” He wiped the water from his mouth and shrugged. “Okay, well, I’m Samantha Berger, but you can call me Sam. You seem really nice, and – I sort of checked out your Facebook page.” She looked at him with sympathy. Mandel bit his lip.
“Yeah, I’m Mandel.” He looked away.
“Okay, well, I want your help.” The girl – Sam – wouldn’t give up, so Mandel gave in.
“With what? Coming out? Because I obviously didn’t do that very well.” Sam didn’t smile at his joke. She gave him a card instead:
Samantha Berger
Detective
(208)654-7634
Mandel looked up from the card and raised his eyebrows. “You’re a detective?” Sam nodded, grinning.
“I want you to help me! It’ll be fun – we’ll be like Nancy Drew meets The Hardy Boys. I want to figure out who stole all the money from the cancer fund.” Mandel stared at the girl.
She was deadly serious! She was a junior in high school who wanted to solve a mystery. Mandel’s gut told him he should not be seen with this girl, but then again, his gut had told him to confess his … well, anyway, Mandel’s gut could not be trusted, so he nodded.
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Sam grinned to herself. She’d convinced Mandel to work with her. As she took a drink from the water fountain, she thought about his Facebook page:
hey lookie its da faggg
Grace Helf 13/2/13
omg mandadllll u so fabbbb oh oops I mean faggg hahaha
Jonathon Keaton 3/5/13
still in luvvvv with me manny???? huh??? ur such a fkin chicken just COME OUT and say it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Alex Breet 21/6/13
Obviously he wasn’t too crushed by it; he’d made a joke about it. Still, Sam knew there was more of a story behind Mandel and his coming out. She hoped to maybe solve two mysteries at once, which would be big, because she’d never solved a mystery before.
Still, she told herself, she’d never gotten the opportunity before.
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Crystal Hawkins looked around the lunchroom nervously. There was her old ‘clan,’ who everyone called the ‘Bees.’ She used to be ‘Queen Bee,’ and she loved it. Now Gina – who was totally bulimic – was ‘Queen Bee.’ She obviously loved it. Bitch.
Crystal wished she’d never told her friends that she was pregnant. She could have just worn puffy jackets then gotten an abortion.
Crystal sighed and looked at her stomach. She knew that she’d never be able to kill an innocent baby – even if it did have Slasher Jonson’s genes.
Noticing an empty table, Crystal headed for it at the same time someone else did. She braced herself for the ridicule, but it didn’t come. Crystal stared at the person across the table from her.
Her name was Alicia Makowitz, or something, and she was a tough girl. She wore a leather jacket and didn’t take shit from anybody. When Crystal was a Bee, she used to call Alicia a dyke behind her back. That’s what she supposed the Bees were doing right now.
“Why are you sitting with me?” Alicia’s voice came. Crystal winced at the sharp tone.
“Because no one else wants me, Alicia,” Crystal told her. Alicia rolled her eyes.
“My name is ‘Aleria,’ which you would know if you took a break from calling me ‘waffletits.’” Aleria shoved her cheeseburger in her mouth and glared at Crystal.
“I never called you that to your – I never called you that!” Aleria rolled her eyes again and gave Crystal the cold shoulder. “Look, I’m really sorry, okay? I’m sorry, Aleria. I really want to be friends. I have money!”
Aleria turned around. “Gimme.” Crystal dug thirty dollars out of her wallet and Aleria grinned. “Hello, my friends,” she said. Crystal wasn’t sure if she was talking to the money or her. “So, what do you want to do this weekend?” Aleria asked her. Crystal blinked. That was easy.
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Kreg Donnavend glared at Harold Teal. “Why am I even in here?” he slurred.
Harold frowned at Kreg. “One, you’ve been drinking and two – I want the money back.”
“Wha?” Kreg asked. “I didn’t take … money.” Harold tapped his foot and Lillian sat Kreg down in a chair.
“Kreg, we’re not kidding around. You could have told us you wanted part of the money, and we could have worked something out.” This was a lie, of course, but Harold was desperate.
“Didn’t take the money,” Kreg mumbled. Lillian sighed and held her hand to her head.
“I’ll give you three days before I call the police on you,” Harold warned. Kreg looked up, shaken out of his drunken stupor.
“Police? But I didn’t!” Harold rolled his eyes and motioned for Lillian to escort Kreg out.
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Sam pulled her head back from the door in the secretary Ms. Worms’ office that lead to the principal’s office. She’d been trying to give them her physical examination records because she was new and just happened to overhear Mr. Teal’s conversation.
Okay, she listened in on purpose.
Leaving her forms on Ms. Worms’ desk, she ran down the hall to where she was meeting Mandel.
“Manny – you’ll never believe it!” she cried. Mandel frowned.
“Did you just call me ‘Manny’?” he asked. Sam shrugged and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the empty band room.
“Okay, so, the principal, Mr. Teal – he thinks that Mr. Donnavend stole the money, and he’s calling the cops in three days. That means we have three days to track Mr. D. Are you in his Gym class?”
Manny looked taken aback by Sam’s seriousness, but replied, “Yeah. I’ll look at him there, and we can both follow him after school.” Sam grinned and hugged Manny.
“I love working with you! Okay, we better get cracking!”
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Aleria grinned and began to plot what she’d do with thirty dollars. Crystal Hawkins was a fool. Aleria would probably hang out with her though, because she was loaded.
“Oh, shit!” came the sound of someone dropping something. Aleria peered around the corner of the building and saw her Algebra teacher, Mrs. Hartford, picking up her purse, which was stuffed full with money. Aleria was about to walk away when she was several hundred-dollar bills flutter from the bag.
What the hell? she thought. How much money does an Algebra teacher make? Probably, like, twenty-thousand per lifetime. No way has Mrs. Hartford made that much moneym unless she's a 500-year-old vampire.
Aleria took out her cracked iPhone that she had stolen from the nearby Apple store and snapped a picture of Mrs. Hartford.
She grinned, thinking about blackmail.
“ … and then we’ll confront him – but he might be a killer, so we should be careful.” Aleria turned around and saw a short brunette and a tall, skinny blonde boy walking her way. She knew the blonde boy was: Mandel Harris, who everyone called Mr. Fagbag, but she had no idea who the brunette was.
“Hi, Aleria,” Mandel greeted her. He’d sort of defended her when some girls called her a dyke one time, but she’d just brushed him off. Now they were ‘hey’ and smiles-in-the-hall friends.
“Hey, Mandel,” Aleria said, putting her phone away. “Who’s that?” she asked, nodding in the brunette’s direction.
“This is –” Mandel began.
“I’m Samantha Bergen,” the girl said, cutting Mandel off. “Manny and I are going to solve a mystery about stolen money.”
Aleria snorted. ‘Manny’? Did Samantha know Mandel was gay or was she just hagged out?
Then she remembered Mrs. Hartford and her money. That might be it!
“Someone stole some money?” Aleria questioned.
Samantha nodded. “Yes, three thousand dollars. Mr. Teal thinks that it’s Mr. D, but I’m open to suggestions.”
Aleria smirked. “I’ve got more than a ‘suggestion’ – I’ve got evidence!”
4: Quatre