Page 11 of Wylder and the Almost Rockstar
Once inside, Wylder crept down the hall to Ms. Jones’ office. She just needed one critical piece of information, and then she was out of here before security could figure out the camera view was out of range. By then, she’d be long gone.
“Score!” Wylder grinned as she rushed through the unlocked door and across the secretary’s office to the Headmistress’ door. She knew from previous trips to this office that hard copies of all student information were stored in the filing cabinets here. She probably could have asked Diego to hack into the school’s computer system, but she didn’t want to get him into trouble even if that was by far the easier solution to her problem.
Flicking her phone flashlight on, Wylder perused the filing cabinets, looking for the one that would contain Logan Cook’s private information.
“C.” Wylder laid her phone on top of the bank of ebony filing cabinets, tugging on the drawer. “Locked.” Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. Wylder pulled a purple bobby pin from her hair—stuck there for this exact purpose. She bent the bobby pin and went to work on the basic lock, lifting the mechanism and popping the drawer open like a pro. “This is too easy.” She rolled her eyes at the lax system. Clearly, this school hadn’t seen a student like her in all their years of operation.
“Caldwell… Cervantes… Clark… Cook!” Wylder lifted the slim file from the cabinet. She had a feeling her file was a lot thicker, but then again, Logan was new to Defiance Academy. She flipped through the pages, hunting for his application for admission. “Ha, there it is.” Wylder moved to the headmistress’s desk just as light flooded the room. She dropped the file on the desk and ducked.
“You know, I can still see your feet, Miss Anderson.” Ms. Jones crossed the room to where Wylder crouched on the floor.
“Any chance you didn’t?” Wylder winced, tucking her feet in.
Ms. Jones arched a dark brow at her as she lifted the file from Wylder’s hand, snapping her fingers for her to move.
Ms. Jones sat in her brown leather chair with a deep sigh. “I got a call from security. Something about a silent alarm triggered by movement inside my office. You didn’t think we’d leave it at a simple camera at the door, did you?”
“I guess not.” Wylder stood beside the headmistress’s desk, staring at the floor. She was in deep trouble now.
“Hand it over.” Ms. Jones held out her hand.
“What?” Wylder glanced up.
“Mr. Carlisle will be needing his access card back. We will discuss that later. I must say, I’m a little relieved to find it’s you snooping around my office instead of one of my substitute teachers.”
Wylder sighed and handed it over. “I can explain.”
“Oh, I can guess.” Ms. Jones nodded at Logan’s folder. “Next time, you should try asking first before resorting to robbery.”
“I was just borrowing it for a minute.” Wylder’s shoulders slumped.
“I don’t approve of your methods.” She leaned forward and scribbled something on a notepad. “But your heart is in the right place.” She handed Wylder a piece of paper. A gate pass.
“What’s this?” Wylder looked up in surprise.
“When it comes to sneaking off campus, you’re the most capable student we’ve ever had, but for once in your life, leave by the front gate. I’ll alert your parents.” Ms. Jones stood. “And lock up when you’re done here.”
“What?” Wylder gaped at her headmistress. “Are you even serious right now?”
“Nashville’s not so far. But I suppose you need a reliable car since yours is unlikely to make the trip there and back. Keys are in the top drawer. Bring it back in one piece, please.”
“Are you sure you’re not sleepwalking, Ms. Jones?”
The headmistress smiled. “Don’t make me regret looking the other way, Wylder. Bring Logan back. We may have failed him, but he belongs here.”
4
Wylder yawned as she drove along the boring stretch of highway. The five-hour trip would have been a lot more fun with her two favorite people along for the ride, but something told her Ms. Jones wouldn’t be too keen on her best student and the star hockey player cutting class just to keep Wylder entertained.
“That sad-sack excuse of a secret rock star better be grateful I’m about to drag his sorry butt back to school where he belongs.” Wylder fiddled with the radio stations on Ms. Jones’ fancy dashboard. The sleek black car drove like a dream compared to Wylder’s old beater car that probably wouldn’t have made it all the way to Nashville and back again without some major car surgery.
A familiar voice crooned from the speakers. One of her favorite Luke Cook songs. Except it wasn’t Luke. A few weeks ago, she would have scowled at the radio and scanned through the stations for something else. Luke used to be her celebrity crush. And then she’d met him, and he’d ruined the fantasy. Now she knew the truth. The voice she’d admired for so long wasn’t Luke’s. The music and lyrics she could quote by heart weren’t all Luke’s. Just the face and the stage presence belonged to the famous Cook brother. The rest of it was all Logan, and he liked it like that.
In a way, she felt responsible for the rumors and aftermath of their performance. It wasn’t her idea to sing on stage in front of the whole school. It was that or fail a class neither of them could afford to fail. But she’d worked with Diego to create a digital buffer between Logan and the audience, so he’d be more comfortable performing. They should have been safe behind the walls of their school. Even when the holograms failed, and they’d had no choice but to finish the song, it shouldn’t have spread like wildfire.
For a few brief moments, it was just them on stage with their instruments, their voices, and zero buffer. The audience loved it. Wylder had loved it—every minute she got to spend on stage with Logan doing what they both loved was emblazoned in her memory. But the video…
It shouldn’t have happened.
