1642734778_punk-57-pdf

“Where are you guys going?” he asks.
I glance at Misha, and he shrugs.
There’s a girl whose name I don’t know at J.D.’s side. I don’t want to
take him away from her or the after parties, but…
“Can you disappear with us for an hour?”
He thinks about it and sets his plate down. “I’m in.”
“Remember you said that,” I warn.
He whispers something to the girl and jogs after us while Misha knocks
on Ten and Manny’s table. “Let’s go.”
We all pile into Misha’s truck, and I see my duffel sitting on the
passenger side floor as I climb in.
“So where are we going?” Ten asks as Misha starts the engine and pulls
out of the parking lot.
“To the school.”
I pull on my seat belt and put the bag in my lap, unzipping it.
“Why?”
I shoot a look to Misha, everything in his expression telling me to go
ahead.
I pull out a can of the washable spray paint. “Because…it’s nearly the
end of the year, and I have a few more things to say.”
I hold up the can and look behind me, seeing Ten’s eyes damn-near bug
out of his head.
“What?” he bursts out.
“You?” J.D. looks at me, shocked.
I meet Manny’s eyes, and I can see the wheels in his head turning.
Maybe he realizes it was me who wrote the message on his locker that first
time: