Tiffany Schmidt - Get a Clue

PUBLISHERS NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.

ISBN 978-1-4197-3968-2
eISBN 9781683357087

Text copyright 2021 Tiffany Schmidt

Lettering copyright 2021 Danielle Kroll

Book design by Brenda E. Angelilli

Published in 2021 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS.

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Boredom is a sign of a lazy mind.

This was my dads catchphrase during rainy weekends, snow days, and the long afternoons Id spent rinkside while my older brother, Miles, played hockey. He said it whenever I complained that there was nothing to do, adding, Theres always something to do if you use your imagination.

But Dad had never been in Mr. Milvertons Earth Science class. Imagination can take you only so far in a room with drawn shades and bare walls, where the closest thing I had to entertainment was timing how long it took my teacher to monotone Four legs on the floor if I tipped my chair back.

I yawned without bothering to hide it. Mr. Milverton was never going to like meand not because of chair tipping. Id ensured his loathing in October when I causally mentioned an upcoming pop quiz to a few classmates.

When wed shown up prepared and anticipating it, hed marched me to the headmasters office and accused me of looking in his planbook.

I hadnt. And my suggestion that planning online would be more secure and eco-friendly hadnt been well received. Neither had my explanation of his tell: the day before pop quizzes, he chewed his mustache and said, Looking forward to class tomorrow.

So, yeah. I was not in contention for teachers pet.

That would be Bancroft. He was a solid B student. The sort who tried, but not too hard. What he lacked in studiousness, he made up for in toothy grins and answers like, Im not sure. What do you think, Mr. M? Hed fist-bump on the way out of class and say, Cool lecture today, Milvernator, and our teacher would flush flattered pink from the top of his sweater vest to the roots of his gray hair.

In all fairness, the role of favorite shouldve gone to Clara Highbury. In other classes she was a people pleaser. Here, she veered into try-hard. She volunteered to distribute materials, was the first to jump up and shut off the lights when Mr. Milverton used the projectordespite her seat being dead center of the classroom. One row over and one seat back from mine. My best friend, Rory Campbellwell, really one of my only friends, but regardless, she was The Bestsat in front of her. And every time Claras eager hand shot up, Rorys brown hair swished from the momentum. Like I said: Clara shouldve been the favorite.

But Mr. Milverton didnt call on her. Her persistent attempts to participate made him purse his lips and look away. Id been keeping track in my notebook for a week. In that time hed asked fifty-seven students for answers. Only fourteen had been girls. Only once had it been Clara. Those statistics were grimmer once I factored in our class size of twelve. And it was a fifty-fifty split between those identifying as guy or girl.

See, Dad, I wasnt lazy. Since nothing in this class had been stimulating, I was keeping my mind busy with my own projects. Or... trying to. I yawned into my collar and looked around.

Gemma sat behind me. Her nails were bitten down again, which meant shed broken up with her sometimes-girlfriend from Aspen Crest Academy. Dante was totally checked out. He had his phone under the desk and based on the airline app he had open was leaving a day early for spring break. His flight to Vail left at ten thirty. First class.

I wasnt going anywhere. My parents were college professors. Their spring break didnt match mine. Even if it had, our vacations were road trips and bargain-hunted hotels. They didnt involve boarding passes, or first class, or jet lag.

Dante clicked to a map of ski slopes. In front of him, Bancroft was stealthily scrolling his iLive page on his phone. No, wait. It was Elinors iLive page he was scoping. She, sitting in front of Rory, was oblivious to his interest. When she wasnt typing notes, she was using her stylus to doodle hearts on her screenwhile staring at Umberto on her left.

Mr. Milverton cleared his throat. Who can tell meClaras hand shot into the airwhich scale measures the intensity of an earthquake from one, microseismic, to ten, extremely high intensity tremor?

He ignored her and pointed at me. Mr. Baker?

The answer came from a sidebar in last nights reading. Im sure most of my classmates had skipped it. Besides Clara, obviously. And me. I lifted my chin. The Rossi-Forel scale.

He nodded and pointed at Umberto. Whats the difference between P and S waves?

I was off the hook until next class, so I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I had the data in my notebook. Now I wanted proof.

Unfortunately, these desks were not designed for anyone taller than five six. After last springs growth spurts, I was five inches past fitting and could barely wedge the phone underneath. I shifted my knee so the camera wasnt filming the pen marks on the bottom of my desk. The back of Elinors head came into view, along with Mr. Milvertons profile.

Who can tell me what an L wave is?

I panned the classroom, catching the swish of Rorys hair as Claras hand rocketed up. After a two-second delay, Dante raised his and was called on immediately.

Mr. Milverton had Atticus answer nexthe hadnt even raised his hand. He never did. It never stopped Milverton from calling on him. Even when Atti was sleeping, Mr. Milverton would have someone poke him awake and repeat the question.

Clara added a soft Oh! the next time she raised her hand, but it was Gemmas bitten nails he pointed to.

By the end of class Id added another nine tallies to the Questions Asked column. Another seven to Boys. Neither of the remaining two were Clara, but shed made Rorys hair swing all nine times.