Keaton School 01: Escape Theory Read Free Page B

and slid off the counter, tip-toeing to the industrial fridge that hummed in the corner. “Now, how about that milk?”
    The school bell echoed across the dark campus.
    Curfew!
    Devon gasped. She clutched the cookie package to her chest. Bad idea. She was right; this
was
stupid. She was supposed to be in her dorm room right now. Why did she have to try out her Ariel-like personality so close to curfew? She
wasn’t
Ariel. That was the whole freaking point.
    Hutch didn’t budge.
    “Um, we have to go, don’t we?” she hissed at him. This wasn’t a rhetorical question, either. The
Companion
clearly stated that all students have to be inside their designated dorms by 10:30 P.M. Hutch pursed his lips, as if disappointed. “If you say so.” He crossed to the door and pushed it—but it didn’t open. “Hmm.” He pressed the handle and pushed again. And again. He cracked another smile.
    “What?” Devon blurted out. She could feel the panic rising up along her spine, up the back of her neck and flooding her squirming skull. No, she didn’t want to be at Keaton. But that didn’t mean she wanted to get kicked out before classes even started, either.
    “You try then,” Hutch said. He stepped aside.
    Devon gripped the metal handle and pushed hard against the door. Nothing.
    “What are we supposed to do?” Her voice quavered. “They’re gonna wonder where we are. We have to check in. Rule #3b.” Why wasn’t Hutch freaking out? Did being a legacy mean you couldn’t get into trouble? All she could do was imagine packing up her dorm room, taking down the pictures she’d just tacked to the corkboard, her mom’s disappointed silence on the drive back home. Her mom would never forgive her—
    “Supposed to. Supposed to. You keep saying that.” Hutch strode back across the kitchen and opened the fridge. He leaned inside, hands on bony hips, scanning the shelves. The frost billowed around him like it was whispering dirty secrets.
    “Well, yeah, sorry if I’m some annoying rule-abider, but it is boarding school,” Devon muttered. She tried to fight back the bitchy tone the fear had brought on. “There are rules. And we are breaking at least one, probably more. Like, does this count as four feet on the ground? I don’t know. And doors aren’t supposed to be closed like this when members of the opposite sex are … that’s 4b, I think … no, maybe it’s 1b, no, that’s plagiarism.…” Her voice trailed off as Hutch emerged from the fridge clutching an armload of supplies. “What are you doing?”
    “Look, someone will be coming around sooner than later. We’ll just flag them down, explain the cookie thing, it’ll be fine. These things happen.” Hutch dropped his supplies on the metal counter with a clang.
    Devon started to breathe again. Maybe he was right. One of the pillars of Keaton
was
honesty, and they
were
just looking for milk. She had the cookies to prove it. “You really think someone will come by?”
    “Sure, they always do. Ten minutes, tops. Your dorm head probably won’t even notice if you’re late. And you know what we should do in the meantime?” He was already pulling a bowl from a nearby shelf, a wooden spoon from a canister. “Finish our mission.”
    Devon’s ears perked up at “our.” She had never been an “our,” “us,” or “we” before with a guy. Ever.
Our mission
. Hutch poured pancake mix into the big bowl.
    “Weren’t we just getting milk?” Devon asked.
    “Oh yeah, change of plans. We’re making Nutter Butter pancakes now. Infinitely better, right?” Hutch nodded at Devon, practically agreeing for her.
    She tried not to nod back. And yet she couldn’t help but go along with it. With him.
    “Nutter Butter pancakes? Is that even a thing?” Devon hoisted herself onto the counter next to the ingredients.
    “Oh, it’s a thing. You’ve just been too busy doing everything you’re
supposed to
do to know about it. I think I’m going to have to illustrate.