Extraordinary Means

But the thing about a vacation is that eventually, it has to end. And I wondered why I was the only one who seemed to realize that. While my hall mates played Monopoly in their pajamas, napped during the day, and marathoned TV shows in bed, I sat at my desk and worked.

I tried to approach my teachers about doing the AP work, but it was difficult to talk to them. They were rarely in the classroom, and when they were, they acted like they couldn’t wait to leave. I finally managed to corner my geology teacher about it, but she’d just blinked at me when I brought up working on my AP bio textbook instead and said that I should ask Dr. Barons at my next appointment. I didn’t tell my parents, though. I lied that it had been no problem and I was keeping up easily. I didn’t want them to worry about it, not when they already had so much else to stress about.

I woke up early to shower, and I stayed up late to study, and by the weekend, it had paid off. I’d done a week’s worth of the AP reading and assignments. Plus, I’d taken half of a practice SAT test, since I wanted at least a thirty-point boost when I retook the test.

On Friday afternoon, I was sitting in the library working on a practice SAT math section, even though I didn’t feel that great. I was exhausted, and had a slight fever, and my temples throbbed with a headache that wouldn’t go away. The hall nurse had given me an aspirin, which was about as helpful as a pat on the back.

I sighed and stared down at my workbook, trying to muster the energy to do another page when all I wanted to do was put my head down on the table and sleep until di

Come on, I told myself, just five more. I’d worked through another two problems when the door to the library opened.

“Are you sure you have it?” a girl whispered.

“God, Sadie, for the last time, yes,” a boy whispered back.

It was the four of them. Charlie in his Doc Martens and enormous DJ headphones, Marina wearing a fu

I hadn’t run into them in the library before, and I watched as Nick went to the librarian’s desk to ask for an internet pass. There was a bank of old desktops in the back of the library, the one place at Latham where you could get online. You needed a pass, though. And even then, you could only use the internet for thirty minutes, once a week. According to the handbook, internet access was “stress-inducing and u

Nick chatted with the librarian, and instead of waiting for him, his friends split up, each of them sitting at a different table. That by itself was weird. Why go to the library with your friends if you’re just going to sit by yourself?

I was studying near the computer bank, and I couldn’t help but watch as Nick sat down at one of the PCs. He opened his bag and took out a little box and some cables. An external hard drive, probably, which was smart. I tried to think if I still had my USB stick. But as Nick plugged it in, I realized it wasn’t a hard drive. It was a router.

And then I saw that girl Marina with her laptop open at one of the big tables. She was logging onto Facebook. I couldn’t believe it.

I got up and took a walk around the library, pretending to look for a book. Sure enough, Sadie had her computer out, too, with noise-canceling headphones clamped over her ears. And Charlie was on his tablet.

They had internet. All of them. Without using their passes. And I was beyond jealous.

I could feel the librarian watching me like she thought I was going to shove a copy of Moby Dick down my pants. So I grabbed a random book and brought it back to my table, pretending that was what I’d wanted.

I tried to turn my attention to my practice test, but it was no use. All I could think about was that router.

I’d never wanted to be part of a group the way I did in that moment. They were out of sync with Latham House, but not in the same way that I was. They acted like we were at any old boarding school, where you rolled your eyes at the rules and snuck off to do what you wanted. And it wasn’t just the internet. It was the way, out of everyone, they seemed the least defeated. The least likely to give up and spend the day in bed feeling sorry for themselves. They weren’t on vacation, they were off on an adventure.

I wished I knew how to talk to them, but every time I saw them together, they seemed so unapproachable. Sadie most of all. She’d seemed to hate me after I’d nearly impaled her with a cafeteria tray. I told myself that I didn’t care. I wasn’t at Latham to make friends, and I didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to need them. Besides, I had work to do. I didn’t have time for adventures.

After a few minutes, a loud group of guys came in, returning DVDs. There was some commotion with one of the cases having the wrong movie in it.

“It was like that when I got it,” a guy with a nasally voice complained. “Come on, let me check out another.”

“I’m sorry,” the librarian said, “but you’re at the limit. You need to return one before I can let you do that.”

“I am returning one!” the guy insisted.

“You need to return what you checked out,” said the librarian.

“That’s what I’m doing!” the guy said. “Do I look like I’d own a copy of Legally Blonde?”

His friends started laughing.

“Shut up!” he said. “Someone probably switched the cases. Help me look.”

The three of them sauntered over to the DVD section and started pulling out cases and opening them.

“Excuse me!” the librarian shrilled. “You can’t do that!”

I could hear her heels clicking against the wood floor as she cut a swath through the library.

And then it hit me: Sadie was sitting right near the DVD section. She wouldn’t hear the librarian coming. Not with those headphones on. The librarian was going to catch Sadie on the internet. She was going to discover the router.

I pushed back my chair and ran.

“Wait!” I called. “Mrs., um, Librarian?”

“Just a minute,” she snapped.

“It’s an emergency!” I said desperately.

She turned. And I had nothing. I tried to think fast.

“A really big emergency,” I repeated loudly.

I caught Sadie’s attention, and her eyes went wide as she snapped her laptop shut.

“Um . . .” I stalled. “There are ants all over the reference section. Someone spilled juice.”

It was a lousy excuse, but too late to make up another one. The librarian muttered something under her breath and rushed in the other direction.

I hurried back to my table to pack up, because I didn’t want to be there when she realized I’d lied.

I was putting my calculator into my bag when a shadow fell over the table.

It was Sadie. And she looked furious.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Fleeing the scene of a crime.” I shouldered my backpack. “Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the ants.”

“That’s not cute,” Sadie said, following me out of the library. “Just in case you were wondering.”

I held the door open for her, and she shot me a look.

“I didn’t need your help.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“It looked like you did,” I told her.

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Okay.” I shrugged. “Whatever.”

I started to head back toward the dorms, but Sadie followed me.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about the router, are you?” she asked.

“Of course not,” I said.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. But it had clearly occurred to Sadie. I waited for her to thank me, or to say that I could join them next time they pulled an internet heist, but she did neither of those things. And I was tired of her acting like I was this terrible person who needed to be taught a lesson.