ADDIE

SOMEONE IS HOME.

Oh my God, this is awful. I thought I was in trouble when I got caught cheating, but this is much worse. The worst thing that could have happened from cheating at school would be to get kicked out of school, and even that was unlikely.

But this is breaking and entering. I could go to jail. Or juvenile detention or whatever. This is a serious crime.

Why did I do this? I had this wild idea about getting revenge on Kenzie, but all I have done is break a stupid ceramic bird and look through her closet. I don’t have the guts to get revenge on Kenzie for the things she’s done to me.

I freeze, not sure what my next move should be. The noise definitely came from downstairs, so I’m hesitant to go down there and walk right into one of the Montgomerys. But what else can I do?

I could hide. Kenzie’s closet is big enough to fit me and half the football team. I can close myself inside and hope that whoever is downstairs goes away, and then I can sneak out. But what if it’s Kenzie? Then I’ll be trapped in her closet, and it’s only a matter of time before I’d be discovered.

Being found in Kenzie’s house is bad enough. Being found hiding in her closet would be a nightmare.

No, I’ve got to get out of here.

I toss the keys into the closet and creep out of Kenzie’s bedroom, wondering if I can quickly slip out the back door. If it’s Kenzie, I’m screwed. But if it’s her parents or her brother, I can pretend she sent me over here. It’s not like I look scary in any way.

My heart is jackhammering in my chest as I slowly walk down the stairs. Every few steps, I stop and listen. I don’t hear any voices. But there was definitely a crash. And it was loud enough that it couldn’t just be the wind or something like that.

Is it possible that at the exact moment I broke into this house, an actual burglar broke in as well?

No, not too likely.

I get to the bottom of the stairs. I still can’t see or hear anyone in the house. It feels like the house is empty, even though I did hear that noise. I creep around behind the stairs to the kitchen to return to the back door.

And that’s when I see it.

There’s a white fluffy cat in the middle of the kitchen, standing beside a pitcher of water that must have been on the counter but is now on the floor. The cat looks up at me and lets out an unapologetic meow.

It was the cat.

My whole body sags with relief. I’m not going to get caught for breaking and entering and end up at juvenile hall. Nobody is in this house. Just an entitled cat.

Still, I’m not taking any chances. I grab my sneakers and slip out the back door as quietly as I can, and I close it behind me. I ditched the keys in her closet, so I won’t have any temptation to come back.