to know about it.
"Okay, cryptic," Marc said, but he didn't push it any further than that. He walked close to my side,
blocking the wind. "What about her friends from Barton? Do you know any of them? Maybe they
heard something. I mean, they wouldn't be the most reliable sources, but it could be a start."
A realization hit me and I stopped in my tracks so fast Marc tripped forward in surprise. I didn't
know anyone at Barton. But I knew someone who did. Josh Hollis.
"What? What is it?" Marc asked, adjusting his backpack.
I looked west toward the outer buildings. Toward the J.A.M. Building in particular. "I have an idea--
someone who might be able to help us," I said, breathless.
"Who?" Marc asked.
"I'll let you know if it pans out," I told him.
Then I turned on my heel and started for the J.A.M. Building. Josh had to be in the studio, working
on his final project for his painting class. And if he wasn't, I was just going to have to track him
down elsewhere. Right then, he was my only hope.
"Okay, Cryptic Girl! You do that!" Marc shouted after me.
I didn't even bother to turn around and respond. I had to focus. Focus on keeping my nervously
beating heart inside my chest. I was going to see Josh. And hopefully I was going to clear my
friend. That was about all my brain could handle at that moment.
120
BOLLOCKS
A fat drop of rain smacked into my cheek about halfway across the quad. Seconds later, the rain
was coming down in earnest, and by the time I slipped into J.A.M.'s well-lit hallway, my hair was
soaked through and my teeth were chattering. A couple of girls shot me derisive looks as they
opened their Coach umbrellas and ducked out into the rain, but I hardly noticed. My mind was
racing at the idea of talking to Josh. But I forced myself to keep moving. I walked over to the studio
and opened the door.There were a few students peppered throughout the room, working busily at
easels. They all looked up when I entered. Josh was the only one who didn't instantly look away.
"Can I talk to you? " I mouthed to him from the doorway. The place was so silent I didn't want to
disturb it any further. Josh dropped his paintbrush and came right over.
"What happened to you? You look like a drowned rat," he said.