The Worst Class Trip Ever (6 page)

“T
hey’re coming here,” said Matt. “They’re gonna come here looking for us.”

We were back in our room, leaning out the window, talking quietly. Cameron and Victor were watching TV.

“They don’t know what room we’re in,” I said.

“They can just wait for us in the lobby. Sooner or later they’ll see us walking in or out.”

We both stared out the window. A taxi pulled up in front of the hotel, with two people in the back. The door opened, and we both held our breath. But it was just two lady tourists. We both
exhaled.

“Seriously,” I said, “maybe we should just give that thing back to them.”

Matt shook his head. “No. Those are not good guys. Whatever they want it for, it’s probably bad.”

“So maybe we should call the police.”

He shook his head again. “You said it yourself. We really can’t prove anything about them, except they’re weird. We couldn’t even prove that thing is theirs.”

“So what do we do?”

“We keep the thing away from them, and we try to figure out what they’re up to.”

“How?”

“I dunno yet.”

“Well
that’s
brilliant.”

“You have a better idea?”

I shook my head. “Where’s the thing now?”

“In my suitcase. But I’m gonna keep it with me, in case they show up here while we’re gone.”

Matt ducked back into the room and went over to his suitcase. I was staring out at the street, looking for the weird guys.

“What are you two talking about?”

Suzana’s voice, which I was not expecting, made me bang my head on the window frame for the second time that day.

“You have to stop doing that,” I said. She was leaning out her window, looking amazing. Even though I had a lot of stuff on my mind at the moment, it occurred to me, somewhere deep
inside my brain, that Matt was right: I had zero chance with her. Zero.

“Who are those guys?” she said. “And what is it they want?”

“What guys?” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “The guys you were just talking about with Matt. Who want the thing Matt is getting from his suitcase.”

“Oh,” I said. Because that’s how good I am at thinking up things to say under pressure.

“Is it the weird guys from the plane?” she said.

“Yeah,” I said, because I couldn’t think of a reason not to.

“What’s the thing?”

“We don’t—”

“It’s a detonator,” said Matt, sticking his head through the window and holding out the box for Suzana to see. “We think.”

“We don’t know,” I said.

Suzana was staring at the box.

“But they want it back bad,” said Matt. “They were chasing us near the White House.”

“What?”
said Suzana.

So we told her about the guys chasing us around the White House, and how we got away, and how somebody called the bus company and found out what hotel we were in. When we were talking it sounded
crazy even to me, but Suzana listened like she totally believed us.

When we were done, she said, “So they’re coming here.” She seemed kind of excited about this.

“Yeah,” I said. “Apparently.”

“So what’s the plan?” She said this like she was part of the plan.

“Mainly for now, don’t let them get this thing,” said Matt.

Suzana nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Give it to me.” She held out her hand.

“What?” said Matt and I pretty much together.

“They’re chasing you guys,” said Suzana. “They’re not chasing me.” Her hand was still out.

Matt and I looked at each other.

“Okay,” said Matt, handing over the box.

I said, “Are you sure…”

“I’m sure,” she said, and she disappeared with the box into her room.

Matt and I looked at each other again.

“Was that a good idea?” he said.

“
Now
you ask,” I said.

I looked at my phone. It was time to meet in the lobby for the evening activities. I took one last look out at the street in front of the hotel. It was getting dark. I didn’t see the weird
guys.

But they were out there somewhere.

I
don’t remember very much about the evening activities. We ate at a restaurant near the Capitol that specialized in feeding tour groups, as
opposed to regular humans who would eat there on purpose. Our three entrée choices were The Executive, which was chicken that could have been fish; The Legislative, which was fish that could
have been chicken; and The Judicial, which was meat loaf that could have been seat cushions. Then we went to a concert by a military band that played “pop music,” which apparently means
music that is no longer popular. The concert was outdoors, and everybody was sweating because the weather was still pretty hot, especially for nighttime.

To be honest I didn’t pay much attention to the evening activities because I was busy getting more and more nervous. I kept looking around for the weird guys. I never saw them, but that
didn’t make me feel any better. By the time we got back on the bus to go back to the hotel, I felt like I was going to throw up. I sat down and leaned over in my seat, holding my stomach,
telling myself
Don’t puke in front of everybody Don’t puke in front of everybody Don’t puke in front of everybody…

“Are you okay?”

I looked up and saw that it was Suzana, sitting next to me, in Matt’s seat.
Suzana Delgado was sitting on the bus next to me.
This was a violation of all the known physical laws of
the Culver Middle universe: A hot girl like Suzana sitting next to a nobody like me instead of with the other hot girls and popular boys. I’m sure this set off a chain reaction of staring,
nudging, and texting throughout the bus. I couldn’t see, because now I was busy telling myself
Don’t puke on Suzana Don’t puke on Suzana Don’t puke on
Suzana…

“Wyatt?” she was saying. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You look like you’re gonna puke,” said Matt, sliding in behind us and leaning forward.

“I’m not gonna puke,” I said. “But I
am
worried about what’s waiting for us back at the hotel.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” said Suzana. “I think we need a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” I said.

“For if those two guys show up at the hotel. Looking for this.” She pointed to her purse.

“Why would they want your purse?” said Matt, who, as I have pointed out, can be an idiot.

Suzana rolled her eyes. “Not my
purse
. The thing. It’s in there.”

“Ohhhh,” said the idiot.

“So here’s what we do,” said Suzana. “If they show up at the hotel, you pound on the wall to my room three times.” She sounded pretty excited about the idea of them
showing up at our hotel.

“Then what?” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happens after we pound on your wall?”

She frowned. “I don’t know yet. It depends on the situation.”

I blinked. “That’s our plan?”

“So far, yes.”

I nodded thoughtfully, because I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I like it,” said the idiot.

“Good,” she said. “Remember, three pounds on the wall.” She got up and walked back to the hot and/or popular section of the bus.

“She’s really nice,” said Matt, moving up and sliding in next to me. The bus was moving now.

“I guess,” I said. But I was starting to think the main reason Suzana wanted us to pound the wall was to make sure she didn’t miss anything exciting. Such as us getting
killed.

“Listen,” I said. “If those guys show up, I’m gonna tell Mr. Barto.”

“I thought we decided—”

“I changed my mind. This is getting too weird. I’m gonna tell him. I don’t care if we get sent home.”

Matt was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay,” he said.

The bus got back to the hotel and pulled into the driveway. We both looked out the window before we got out, but we didn’t see the weird guys, or anybody else: The street was quiet. Matt
and I stopped just inside in the hotel doorway and took a careful look around the lobby. But the only people there were in a sad little line to check in—a tired-looking couple with a crying
baby waiting behind a couple of businessmen, who were waiting behind a tall man in a hat and overcoat and a short dumpy blond lady in a red dress and purple shoes talking to the guy at the front
desk. Other than that, the lobby was empty.

Mr. Barto and Miss Rector gathered us all together and gave us a lecture about how we were to stay in our rooms and they would be patrolling the hallways and anybody caught breaking curfew would
be in Serious Trouble. Then we headed for the elevators. The Hot/Popular clot drifted past. Suzana worked her way over and whispered, “Seen anything?”

“No.”

“Okay,” she said. She held up three fingers. “Remember the signal.”

“Okay.”

Her clot drifted away. Matt and I and some other losers got on an elevator. As soon as the door closed Cameron Frank released a pretty spectacular fart, even by his standards, but I was too
tense to laugh.

I felt a little safer once we got to our room. We got into our pajamas and figured out where to sleep. There were two beds, plus a sleeper sofa, plus a cot, which was where I ended up. We turned
on the TV and sat around doing stuff on our phones, with Matt or me getting up every couple of minutes to look out the window and not see anything.

A little after ten thirty somebody pounded on the door, which made Matt and me both jump up, but it was just Mr. Barto telling us to turn off the TV and the lights and go to bed. He was still
wearing his backpack; I think maybe he slept with that thing on.

We turned the lights off and the TV sound down and went back to our phones. I looked out the window a couple more times, but I was getting pretty tired, and I was beginning to feel like we were
going to be okay, at least for the night. I closed my eyes and my mind started drifting around, the way it does when you’re falling asleep. I drifted back to Miami, and getting on the plane,
then kind of went through the whole insane day, ending with getting back to the hotel and being scared that the weird guys would be waiting for us….

Suddenly I sat up. I was wide awake now.

I looked around the room. The TV was still on, with the sound down. Victor and Cameron were asleep in the two beds. Matt was asleep on the sofa bed. I got off the cot and walked quietly over to
Matt. I poked him whispered “Wake up.”

His eyes opened. “What?”

“They’re here.”

“What?”

“
Shh
. Whisper.”

“Where are they?” he whispered.

“In the lobby. We walked right past them, but their backs were turned so I didn’t see their faces. I don’t think they saw us.”

“You
saw
them? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just now figured out it was them.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Remember when we came in tonight? The man and the lady at the front desk?”

He frowned. “Yeah, but that was a man and a lady.”

“Did you happen to notice what the man was wearing?”

He thought about it for a second. “A coat?”

“Right. A long coat.”

“So?”

“So it’s warm out. Way too warm for that coat. That’s like a heavy winter coat. He’s wearing it to cover himself, especially his tattoos. He had a hat on, too. He
doesn’t want us to recognize him.”

“But he was with a lady.”

“He was with somebody in a dress.”

“With blond hair.”

“Or a blond wig.”

“But why do you think that was—”

“The
shoes
. Do you remember the shoes on the ‘lady’?”

“No.”

“They were purple. I didn’t really think about it at the time. But they were definitely purple.”

“So?”

“Purple shoes with a red dress?”

“Those don’t go together?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. And guess what the little weird guy was wearing on the plane.”

“What?”

“Purple Crocs.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I thought it was weird, a grown-up wearing Crocs.”

We heard a rustling in one of the beds. Cameron was sitting up.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“Nothing,” I said.