The final bell at Northwood High sounded not so much as a ringing sound but an earthquake-there was a tidal wave of backpacks and teenage angst unleashed into the corridors, carrying all those students towards his heaven of the weekend. But Lena Qi was an island. Perfectly still, with chaos erupting around her, she stood by her locker, calm in the storm. With graceful ease, her fingers accomplished the almost mechanical task of dialing the combination. *Click-click-click*. The lock let go.
Within lay a sanctum, and what a beautiful place it was. Textbooks stood army-like, color-coded binders shined, and the laminated schedule was taped on the inside of the door. Her evening plans looked ruthless and beautiful: 4:00 PM – Tackle Advanced Calculus. 5:30 PM – Draft literary masterpiece for AP Lit. 7:00 PM – Refuel (grilled chicken, quinoa, steamed broccoli-no dressing). 8:00 PM – Analyze the day's chemistry lab.
Brick by brick, she was building the fortress of her future. Valedictorian. Stanford. Career to smoothen the worry lines of her parents' faces. This blueprint had been in drafting since she was ten, and Lena would be the architect, the foreman, and the laborer all on her own. No alternative. Deviation was the frightful spirit.
"Lena! Don't you dare evaporate!"
A whirlwind on pink hair and tie-dye slammed against the locker beside hers. Chloe. Her best friend and living, breathing counterprogramming. Where Lena was sharp and precise, Chloe splattered paint on this world with glorious messiness.
"I'm not evaporating," she was saying while placing her Calculus textbook in her bag. "I'm making a strategic exit."
"A strategic exit? Sounds like you're ducking for cover to nature's punishment; the dungeon of homework," Chloe countered, leaning back against the lockers. "Jake's birthday party. Tonight. His folks are out of town. That place will host a bowl of garishly green punch that would probably taste of regrets and a playlist set for all the bands that achieved their high point in popularity some time in the early 2000s. Tragedy with an awesome twist."
Lena felt the briefest flash of something—a phantom pulse of fun—ignite in her chest. She quenched it. "I can't. The Model UN brief on geopolitical trade imbalances isn't going to write itself. Plus, I have to prepare mentally for...the thing tomorrow."
Chloe grimaced. "Ew! The amphibian massacre. Don't remind me. I've been planning an escape since the end of last semester." She feigned one of her famous dramatic shudders. "Those poor distinguished gentleman, sitting there clueless about their impending doom! It's like some horror film."
Lena froze with her hand on the spine of her lit book. *Dignified gentlemen.* A thought had scarcely left the back of her mind all day, this annoying little gnat she kept swatting away: *Rana catesbeiana.* The American bullfrog. It had a name, a life somewhere in that murky pond, a profession catching flies—a little mundane, but fun. Tomorrow, though, it would be just a figure in her meticulous notes—Figure 1.3.
"It's an official part of the curriculum," Lena echoed, and the words sounded hollow to her. The cold truth she had been repeating like some confession.
"'Curriculum is a soulless monster,' Chloe declared, pointing a finger at her. 'If I had the guts, I'd be a frog-freeing superhero: The Ribbiter. Mask and cape with a utility belt of mealworms for distraction.'"
This totally ridiculous image stayed in Lena's mind, a spark of glorious, ridiculous rebellion. She forced a laugh. "And how would 'The Ribbiter' get past a locked door and a motion-sensitive alarm?"
"There is a way where there's a will, my friend. But at the moment my will is pointing to pepperoni pizza and questionable life decisions. Last chance."
"Count me out. Text me if something blows up."
As Chloe faded back into the thinning crowd, Lena's own exit strategy began to crumble. Her feet, usually so obedient, felt as if rooted to the spot. The hallway was emptying out, with fluorescent lights humming their lonely, end-of-day tune. Instead of turning right for the parking lot, her sensible sneakers pivoted left down the science wing corridor.
This was hardly a conscious decision. It was more a draw, a gravitational anomaly away from the straight line of her life. The linoleum glared in the dimmed light, a yellow-brick road leading to trouble. And when she reached the biology lab door, it was tightly locked, just as expected. Dead end.
But Lena's brain was a vault of useless information, and the sudden flash of a particular fact now glowed red-hot. Last semester, while on Mr. Davison's aide, she'd been in the janitor's closet collecting some extra gloves when she'd noticed the ceiling panel that rested a little too loose for her liking. Gus the janitor had muttered something about it leading to the crawl space that connected to the lab's storage.
*This is insane,* the voice in her head that sounded like her mother's personal planner whispered. *This is career-ending. This is Stanford-rescinding. Turn around.*
But a new, quieter voice answered back: *What's the point of building a fortress if you never get to storm the walls?*
Her heart slammed an erratic, exhilarating rhythm against her ribs. She looked around herself. Clear. Ducking into the janitor's closet, she was greeted by bleach and damp mops. She pushed aside a cleaning cart, stacked two crates of paper towels, and, with some effort, shoved the loose panel aside. A dark, dusty maw opened to her.
Hoisting herself up was an undignified scramble, her pleated skirt snagged on the rough edge. She was in.
The crawl space was a claustrophobic's nightmare—hot, dusty, and filled with the creaks and groans of the school's ancient innards. She crawled on hands and knees, brushing spiderwebs off her face. After what felt like forever, a sliver of light appeared. Another panel. She pushed and was rewarded when it gave way, tumbling her onto the floor of the pitch-black biology lab storage room in a heap.
Came her fumbling fingers triggering the flashlight on her phone. The beam sliced the pitch-black darkness with the telltale luminescence of shelves holding glassware, skeletal models, and then, on a metal cart by the door… the terrariums.
Before her lay two placid, haughty bullfrogs in glass prisons. As their throats pulsed in slow motion, one blinked a lazy golden eye towards the light.
"All right, fellas," she whispered shakily, "Check-out time."
The first terrarium was deceptively heavy. She put it down and fumbled with the latch, while the frog inside sat quietly judging her with a very ancient air of patience. "You are free," she whispered, feeling that a wild, giddy chuckle would soon bubble up in her throat. She brought the tank to the window overlooking the school's overgrown courtyard. The latch was stuck but she wrestled it open. A cool night breeze filled with the scent of rain and earth invaded the sterile room.
She tipped the terrarium. For one intense moment, the frog simply stayed seated, and then it powered itself into the night. *Plop.*
The laugh escaped short and bright from her mouth. One down. She turned toward liberating the other dignitarian prisoner.
***
Kai Zhang was having a day that could curdle milk. His precious 'Relic', his old and weary Triumph bike, had choked twice on the way to school. Just then, Mr. Henderson, the vile man with a foul-smelling face, decided that Kai's "inability to display enthusiasm" during a pop quiz would be a motivational basis for punishing him - detention. Again.
Now, here stood Kai in a nearly empty parking lot, leaning against the Relic, lighting a cigarette, a small rebellion against the dark knee-high of dusk. Home was a few streets away. Lily would be waiting for him, doubtless having concocted a 'dinner' out of cereal and leftover Chinese food. The familiar, heavy stone of guilt nestled in his gut. He was failing. Failing school, failing her, failing at the whole damn thing.
He took a long drag, setting the world aside while he imagined the dark hulk of the school. A prison of privilege and pointless rules. And then he saw it. Flicker. Flashlight beam making itself known through movement past a second-story window in the science wing.
*Interesting.*
Nothing like security-they did indeed patrol a rather predictable lazy loop. But this was furtive. A prank? A burglary? His lips curled in a smile. Maybe the universe was offering him distraction. Witnessing-or even mildly participating in-the defacement of Northwood High property sounded like a terrific way to wash taste of Henderson's hypocrisy out of his mouth.
He moved like a predator in the dark with shadowy silence. He knew every broken panel of the fence, every blind spot of the cameras. He slipped around to the back courtyard, into the beautiful weed-choked yard that was littered with forgotten benches. The window to the biology lab storage room was wide open. "Amateurs."
He leaned in closer, peeking inside.
And then the very world tilted on its axis.
It was Lena Qi.
*Lena. Freaking. Qi.* Life's hall monitor. The girl who probably used an alphabetical arrangement for her socks. There she was, appearing as completely incongruous: dirt smudge on her cheek, slightly untwirled perfect pony, and… talking to a frog.
"Do it," she whispered soothingly. "Your public is waiting."
She tipped the terrarium gently, and the frog jumped for freedom into the bushes. A triumphant look, pure and untainted, kicked on her face. The kind of expression Kai had never seen on her: dazzling.
The laugh, at that moment, died in his throat. This was not gold. This was a diamond. A shimmering secret in an otherwise pristine facade. He watched intently until victory was assured, and then he turned his back casually to the window frame, his voice low and smooth cutting into her private celebration.
"So, the valedictorian is a thief. That should make quite a headline for the school paper."
Lena jumped a full foot, throwing around. A flash from her phone's flashlight hit him right in the face illuminating his leading smirk. Her own face was a canvas of panic with eyes wide open and mouth stretched into a perfect "O" of horror.
"Kai," she gasped. The syllable of dread.
"The only one." He vaulted through the window with effortless grace—one that made her entry look like a bad comedy act. He landed just in front of her, cramping the small room. He could smell her faint clean shampoo scent mingled with the acrid reek of formaldehyde. "So. Just to recap. Breaking and entering. Theft of educational property. Aiding or abetting an amphibious fugitive. Pretty serious case you've got going on here, Qi."
Lena's mind had hit a hard freeze. *System error. Cannot compute.* Every excuse, every lie, shattered against the rock-solid presence of him. He had her now. Frozen.
"It's… none of your business," she managed, trying to dredge up the frosty tone she used against hecklers in the debate club. Instead, it was a pathetic little squeak.
"Oh, I'm making it my business," he said, grabbing the empty terrarium. He tutted softly. "This sort of thing... is proper grounds for expulsion. A permanent blot on that commendable academic record. No Stanford for you. No proud mama and papa. All over a couple of frogs." He shook his head, appallingly mournful. "What utter waste of a worthy future."
The word expelled hit her like a battering ram. She saw all the acceptance letters, all her dreams, all her parents' hopes act like quicksand and sink into a pile of dust and regrets. Panic coursed in cold fire through her veins.
""I guess what you want is hard to show for most people." The question was whispered, confessing one's surrender.
He studied her. The fear was real, but in it, he saw the fading glow of the girl who had just freed those frogs. The girl with guts. Kai reckoned he had something now, a last-minute chance at rescuing his doomed life.
"Well, I'm failing my senior year," he said, devoid of all possible color. "If I don't pass my finals, I'm completely screwed." He chose not to speak about the court date, the social worker's visits, or the threat of losing Lily. That was his burden. "You are going to be my tutor. You will personally fill my head with enough to get me over the finish line."
For a few seconds, Lena only stared, aghast. "You think I can tutor you? That's your blackmail threat? You want me to train you?"
"Consider this as rehab for a criminal soul," he said, a shining light dancing in his dark eyes. "Community services for you. Work to save my GPA and I will take the secret to my grave. Your future stays bright."
A simple arrangement? Hardly. It was a freaking disaster. Social Kryptonite that was Kai Zhang. Getting him to barely pass would be a Herculean task. It would consume her time, through her whole timeline, steal her sanity.
But the other option was better-forgetting.
She looked at him. The smirk was a shield, but the eyes were dead serious. This price was due for her moment of madness.
"Fine," she spit out, but it felt as torn from within her. "Fine. I'll tutor you."
His smile was a victory signal. "Perfect. Tomorrow after school, library."
"The *library*? That's a public square! Everyone will see us!"
"Then I guess you'll learn the art of invisibility," he said, turning back to the window. He went to put one leg over the sill but hesitated and looked back at her. There was no smirk now, replaced by something that even appeared to be respect. "Hey, Qi?"
She gawked, body-arms crossed in stubbornness, body held like a fortress under siege.
"For the record," he said quietly, soundting unusually sincere, "that was the most amazing thing I've seen anyone do at this school. Ever."
Then he was gone, leaving as silently into the night as he had come.
Lena was all alone in the dark, silent room. The air was thick with the odor of bleach, dust, and something else—the faint, wild scent of the night, freedom. Her heart was pounding, but the panic was beginning to form into a steady cold, hard resolve. She had just traded her organized life for a deal with the devil. Freeing the frogs had been an act of heart. Surviving Kai Zhang was going to be a war of wits. As she got up into that dusty space again, a terrifying thrill coursed through her, for she now knew that the blueprint of her life just got erased into two.