I turn to her and grin, then check the paper I am holding in my hand. "Hmmm. D- u – m – a – s. Looks like a ‘dumb-ass’ to me. And you know what they say: ‘If it looks like a dumb ass and it sounds like a dumb ass, it’s probably a dumb ass."

The woman is eyeing us warily. "I need to get the Principal for this. Would you two take a seat over there, please?" The registrar points to a wooden bench placed beneath a bulletin board.

I give a flourish with my arm, "After you, Miss …"

"Just shut the fuck up, Harper."

I love life. Sometimes, I really, really do. "Hey, look, Kels, there’s a dance this weekend."

All I get for my effort is a sullen stare.

"Come on, buck up, Little Roo."

She turns her green eyes on me and I feel a little bit of my heart melt. Damn, she’s good. No wonder they made her an anchor. "Why probation officer?" she asks.

"Well, it would have been a bit cliché for me to come in as a gym teacher, chér." I give my most charming smile, which is, I admit, quite charming. "Besides, we don’t know if someone in the administration is in on the sourcing. Trust no one, right?"

"We aren’t the X-Files, Harper."

"I dunno. They’re partners and not sleeping together either." I slide a little closer to her on the bench. "But everyone wants them to."

"Once they sleep together, the ratings will go down. Look at Maddie and David on ‘Moonlighting.’ And I know how much you value ratings."

This I find highly amusing. "Oh my God, you still remember their characters’ names! You must really have had a thing for Cybill Shepherd." I laugh a bit more, ignoring my partner’s discomfort, noting the lack of denial for the object of her affection. "Personally, I like cute, short blondes."

She is forming a retort when the registrar appears before us. "Principal Downey will see you now."

Saved by the bell, so to speak.


* * *

We’re sitting in Algebra II. Kelsey is seated in the second to last row, next to the windows. I’m sitting further back, at the teacher’s desk. The principal agreed to admit Kels without too much of a fuss. Apparently, a couple other kids here came back to school that way. It’s California’s way of getting serious about probation. All juvie offenders have to be escorted for their first 60 days out. This puts an unimaginable strain on the probation officers, but it does seem to be having some effect on juvenile recidivism.

Kelsey is playing the part well enough: snapping her gum and displaying that air of disinterest she does so well. She looks out the window and leans back slightly as if trying to get a better look at something, when the teacher loudly clears his throat and raps on the blackboard with a ruler.

"Ms. Dumas, if the outside world is too distracting for you, I can change your seating assignment," he offers magnanimously.

My partner looks back to him immediately and offers him a shy smile and a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Thanks for the offer, teach, but I’m with ya now."

He watches her a moment longer before turning back to the lesson. Aside from a few sly glances out the window, Kels manages to pay attention.


* * *

After Algebra we go to History. As we make our way down the hall, we’re both watching the other students. What a mix. Everything from designer suits – hey, who knew- to punked-out, spiked-hair and leather dog collars.

"I need to make a stop." Kels tugs on my arm.

"Rest room?"

"No, thanks." She rolls her eyes at me. "Locker. I’m dumping some of these books." She grumbles as she leads me to a wall of lockers. "Unless you’d like to carry them for me?"

"Are we going steady?"

She laughs, and I am extraordinarily pleased by that reaction.

I lean against another locker as she fumbles with the armload of books and her combination lock. "Here let me." I take her books and tuck them away under my arm as she plays with the lock.

"Thanks. But don’t get any ideas."

"Fair enough." Suddenly, I remember her distraction in Algebra class. "Hey, what did you see outside?"

She looks up and crinkles her brow in confusion.

"Algebra? Mr. Daniels?" I prompt, waiting for her eyes to glimmer with recognition.

"Mmm." She shrugs, looks back to her lock. "Maybe nothing. A couple little gatherings in the student parking lot. One of the guys seemed shady."

"Seemed shady?" I repeat slowly. "You want to elaborate?"

"Not really. Just shady. I think I’m gonna skip Algebra II tomorrow."

"I’ll have to come look for you," I warn her with a smirk.

"I don’t care. Just let me do my job, Tabloid." She jerks her locker open then reaches for her books. As she stuffs them in, I notice a ‘jock’ type taking an interest in the new student.

"You have an admirer." I nod at the young man who slowly runs his eyes up and down my partner’s body before he closes the door of his locker. He keeps that up and I’m gonna take them out for him.

Kels glances his direction, giving him a smile and a wave.

"Why, you little flirt, you." I laugh as I push off the lockers and we head to History.

"Trust no one, but don’t think anyone is above suspicion."

Good philosophy, Kels. I fall back a couple of steps and let her mix and mingle just a bit. She has managed to strike up a conversation with Mr. Football. I slide into the classroom and make my introductions to the instructor, Mr. Webber. Good God, doesn’t this place have any female teachers? I take a seat again at the back of the room so I can keep an eye on my partner. She’s still making eyes at Mr. Football. I shake my head wondering if I might be wrong about her. Nah.

As I watch her, I can’t help but think back to my own days in high school. I was popular and able to float between groups without censure. I played on the varsity basketball team all four years and was valedictorian at graduation. This, of course, surprised my pals. I always told them I was a straight "C" student. It just seemed easier that way, especially since I was two years younger than everyone else and already stood out for that reason as well as my height. My parents had home schooled me through elementary school, as my brothers and I were the object of many threats by people not as liberally minded as my parents. When I went to public junior high, after we returned to New Orleans, I was quickly advanced.

I received a scholarship to Tulane and surprised my family when I pursued journalism. My four older brothers had all chosen traditional pre-law courses of study. My classmates had seen a number of my homemade movies and mock documentaries that I'd been preparing for years so they expected nothing less of me. My mother expected more. She was disappointed and told me I could have been anything with my intellect. I told her that I was already everything (at least to her), so not to worry.

I remember the exchange fondly with a grin as I watch Kelsey. She really seems to be making some inroads with the jock. I know her well enough by now to know that if he wasn’t giving her what she needed, she’d be done with him.

So why is she with Erik? Why is she so afraid? Or, is she really in love with him?

We manage to get through History and Chemistry before lunch. As we stand in the serving line, I look at my partner who is deep in thought. "What’s up, little Roo?"

"Ah, just thinking about something Frank said."

"Frank?"

"The kid from History."

"Yeah, what did he say?"

"He said he knew how and where to get anything."

"Geez, Kels, you really get to the point when you want to, don’t you?" I take a moment to stop and get a cup of coffee. As I fix it, I notice her palm several packets of powdered creamer. I’m not even gonna ask.

"He positively reeked of marijuana smoke, Harper. He was so stoned he could barely see."

"And how do you know what marijuana smells like?" I give her a little nudge as she picks a bottle of water out of a tub.

"I’m not as innocent as I look, officer." She bats her eyelashes at me again as she picks up her tray and makes her way past me into the seating area. Wow, that almost qualified as a civil conversation, complete with a joke. Damn. I turn and follow her out.

I stand next to her table, waiting. Finally, she looks up and gives me a little smile. "Have a seat."

She’s got her hands under the table and she’s doing something I can’t see. I clear my throat and my mind at the same time as I take a seat next to her.

"Okay," she says as I feel her stuff something in my jacket pocket. "I figure for this to really work you need to be close to me so your camera can get the best shots, right?"

"Un-huh." My hand starts to go to my pocket but she grabs it and holds onto it.

"Don’t." She turns to me with more sincerity in her eyes than I have ever seen before. "Harper, I’ve followed you. Now follow me. Trust me." She gives my hand a little squeeze. "Please?"

How can I resist that request? I nod my head as I bring my coffee to my lips. "So what’s the plan?"

"We’re meeting Frank after classes. He says if I can prove I have the means he can set me up."

"We need cash."

"Hey, brilliant deduction, Sherlock. You’re gonna get it by the end of the day."

"I’ll make a call when you go to gym class." I give her a grin as I lift my eyebrows.

"Oh, I can’t believe you’re gonna miss that opportunity. Just think of all the ogling time you’ll miss."

"I have no desire to commit a misdemeanor, thanks." I take another sip of my coffee. "Besides, it’s a co-ed class. And I specialize. How much cash do you need?"