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Chapter 1

Cleo Oliver was late. Not by much, just five minutes or so, but it was enough to make her take extra-long, extra-quick strides on her way to school. She didn't even notice that the daffodils around the base of the trees on 69th Street were pushing their way out of the ground, or that a red-breasted robin was hopping down the sidewalk. All Cleo knew was that the day had not started out well.

It was one of those mornings when no matter what she'd tried, her thick black hair simply refused to respond. It seemed every strand on her head wanted to go in its own direction and not even barrettes or a headband could control it. She'd had to settle for a baseball cap. Sometimes covering up the problem was the only answer.

On top of having a thoroughly rotten hair day, she'd planned to wear her green cashmere sweater to school, but when she'd slipped it on, it had been way too small. The sleeves that had once hit the tip of her elbow, were now halfway to her armpit, and instead of reaching her waist, the sweater stopped an inch above her belly button. Cleo would have considered wearing the beautiful cashmere top as a midriff if she hadn't been so self-conscious about her ribs that, in her mind at least, stuck out like a skeleton's.

With regret, she'd pulled off the sweater, made a note to give it to Nortrud, the housekeeper, to donate to the Salvation Army, and put on a big denim shirt that she knew would fit. Then, feeling like a total grungemeister, the girl had left the apartment and headed toward school.

Cleo Oliver was thirteen and had been growing at an alarming rate for more than two years now. She was five feet nine inches, or she had been last fall anyway. Judging from the fit of her sweater, she calculated that she had sprouted another half inch ... maybe more.

If anyone calls me "the giraffe" today, thought Cleo, I'll go over the edge. They'll have to take me away in a strait jacket. She set her jaw and narrowed her eyes as she neared The Walton School, a private, co-ed institution on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Cleo had attended Walton since kindergarten and expected to be there until she graduated from high school. She had quite a few friends there, but lately, since she'd started towering over everyone, she hadn't really felt like she fit in.

She paused for a moment when she got near the historic brick building and watched the crowds of students piling through the iron gates. Cleo resumed her hurried speed toward the small courtyard, until someone looked in her direction, then pointed. To her horror, everyone turned to stare at her.

Great, she thought. The worst day of my life and I can't even get into school without the whole world noticing. Then she saw more kids coming out of the building to gape. This was too much.

I can't look that bad, she finally decided. Slowly, she turned to look over her shoulder ... and saw a polished gold limousine driving down the street.

No wonder, thought Cleo as she watched the long car slow down. Though limos were a fairly common sight in New York City, they were usually black or white or occasionally navy-blue. Cleo leaned forward to look at a hood ornament on the front of the car, a small winged figure flying forward. It couldn't be.

"A stretch Rolls-Royce," said Robbi Richards to Cleo as she came up behind her. "Can you believe it? You've got to have mountains of money to drive that monster." The diminutive girl who was Cleo's best friend was so short that she had to stand on tiptoe to reach Cleo's ear. "Come to think of it, I'd also have to say a person would have to have mountains of bad taste, too. Talk about disgusting."

As the limousine pulled to a stop in front of the school, dazzling shafts of sunlight reflecting off of the gold grill made the two girls look away, and they turned and walked side by side into the Walton courtyard.

Cleo and Robbi were the oddest of odd couples. Their most noticeable difference was that, at four feet ten inches, Robbi measured nearly a foot shorter than Cleo. Then there was the fact that the tall girl had almost pitch-black hair and snow-white skin, and Robbi, who was half Japanese, had dark reddish-brown hair and olive skin. Even more than the physical differences were the contrasts in personality. While Cleo shied away from loud colors or wild and crazy clothing styles that would call attention to herself, her friend reveled in the outrageous. Still, despite their dissimilar qualities, the two girls had forged a bond that couldn't be any stronger if they had been twins.

"Wow, I must really be late if you're already here," Cleo said, only half joking. While Cleo made an effort to be on time, if not early, for everything, Robbi scooted in to class almost every day at the last possible minute.

The tall teenager checked her watch and saw she still had four minutes before the first bell. There was plenty of time to find out who was riding in that car. She glanced back to the street in time to see a chauffeur getting out of the driver's side door of the limousine.

The slight, devilish-looking man had a pointy beard and wore a uniform complete with cap and an excess of gold trim. As he came around the car, he glanced over at the growing crowd of students with the coldest eyes Cleo had ever seen. Now every student in the Walton courtyard was dying to get a glimpse of the occupant in the back seat of the gold Rolls-Royce.

The chauffeur opened the door and reached in, withdrawing a leather bag that Cleo recognized as MCM, one of the most expensive makes of luggage. Then the man stood and stepped back to make way for his passenger.

Cleo held her breath, expecting a princess or maybe a president of a South American nation to get out of the car, and she wondered why an important person would be visiting Walton today. She couldn't remember seeing any special guests or assemblies on the school schedule, but maybe this was a surprise visit by a famous former alumnus. After all, The Walton School proudly claimed quite a few politicians and celebrities among their graduates.

"Hey, what's the big deal, everybody?" said Andy Monahan much too loudly, "It's only a kid." Andy was the reigning star of several of Walton's athletic teams, but he wasn't exactly a master of subtlety.

The sandy-haired boy who stepped out of the limo appeared startled as he looked at the group of students watching him, but he gathered his composure almost immediately, and without so much as a sideways glance at the chauffeur, put his hand out palm up. The uniformed man responded by giving the leather bag to the boy.

"That will be all for now, Chuck," said the boy. He adjusted his oval-shaped wire-framed glasses, lifted his chin, and strode through the crowd.

Cleo saw that the boy was small, somewhat shorter than the other boys at Walton, and fairly thin. Given her current growth spurt, height was the number one thing the tall girl noticed about anyone these days.

"Who do you think this guy is?" said Cleo to Robbi. Though there were a few Walton students from very wealthy families who arrived at school in limos, they opened their own doors and carried their own books. This boy, who looked like a walking ad for Brooks Brothers with his navy-blue blazer, club tie, gray pants, and black loafers, was a different story.

"More importantly," remarked Robbi, "is who does he think he is? What a poophead." She turned away and headed into the building, completely turned off by the boy's obvious snobbishness.

Cleo decided it was time to get to class and followed her friend into the school. Both girls scurried up to the fourth floor where the eighth-graders had their lockers. They dropped off some of their books, then headed toward homeroom.

To their surprise, the new boy was in the room, standing next to Mr. Gorgola's desk. Once everyone had taken their seats, the teacher cleared his throat.

"Everybody, I'd like to introduce a new student at Walton. This is Jon Edsel-Mellon. He's going to be joining us for the rest of the year and, we hope, after that as well."

Robbi reached over and jabbed Cleo in the arm. "Edsel-Mellon? No wonder he came in that car." The boy was the son of billionaire entrepreneur and real estate developer Herbert Edsel-Mellon. "They're practically the richest people on the planet."

Cleo nodded her head in appreciation. The family name was always in the news. No matter what Jon's father did, he was always wildly successful. Everyone had heard of the Edsel-Mellons.

The class murmured greetings to the boy, who held up his hand to silence them. "A pleasure, I'm sure," he said, sounding like he didn't mean a bit of it. "Call me JP. My name is Jonathan Packard, and no one," —he let his gaze hit everyone in the room —"calls me Jon."

Cleo and Robbi stifled giggles as they mouthed "JP" to each other. Just then, the bell rang, signaling that it was time to move on to first period.

The two friends had the first couple of classes together and when they got to second period, they found JP sitting in one of the front seats of the class.

"How exciting," said Robbi dryly. "'Mr. Snoots' is here." She walked up to the boy, "Uh, excuse me, that's my seat."

JP glanced up at Robbi, then looked toward the teacher, Ms. Manning, and raised his hand. "Oh, ma'am? Didn't you say I should take any seat? I mean, it is my first day and all."

Ms. Manning smiled which was unusual for the serious teacher. "Robbi, you don't mind, do you? After all, you've been at Walton for years now. This is JP's first day."

Robbi put on a sweet and very fake grin. "Of course I don't mind, Ms. Manning. JP's more than welcome to my chair. I'll just take one of the yucky seats in the back." English was Robbi's favorite class and she loved her front and center desk.

All during second period, Cleo watched and listened as her friend raised her hand to ask questions, shouting as if she were in the next state, while JP sat up front looking extremely bored. Things got worse when Ms. Manning selected two teams for an impromptu debate on the book the class was studying, Charles Dickens's Great Expectations.

Cleo hated debating with a passion. She loathed being put on the spot in front of her classmates, and even though she was sure Ms. Manning had noticed that fact, it didn't seem to have fazed the teacher in the least. Cleo got assigned to team A.

Robbi Richards, on the other hand, was a debating fanatic and though she raised her hand and waved it like a wind-up toy gone berserk, she wasn't chosen for either team that morning. Cleo flashed her friend a sympathetic shrug as she trudged toward the front of the room to stand with her fellow teammates, one of whom was JP Edsel-Mellon.

JP showed no sign of wanting to participate whatsoever. His most enthusiastic gesture was to yawn and roll his eyes, which Cleo interpreted as a prelude to disaster. But surprisingly, when the debate started, the boy popped off facts, sharp rebuttals, and answers to almost every remark made to him. He amazed the class with his knowledge and understanding of Great Expectations, and due mostly to his input, Cleo's team won the debate.

Immediately after class, the rest of the students disappeared into the hallway, trying to get to their next destination in the allotted three minutes, but Cleo decided to stay behind. She had a study period next and was already carrying her math and history books. Besides, she wanted to congratulate her new classmate for helping win the debate, as well as welcome him to Walton. One of Cleo's friends, Jason Garrett, had told her that when he was new to the school earlier in the year, most of the students had hardly bothered to talked to him at all. Cleo didn't want to be guilty of that crime of omission herself, and she grabbed the back of Robbi's jacket.

"Wait up a sec, Rob," said Cleo. "I just want to say something to JP."

Robbi growled, but waited as any best friend would do. Besides, her next class was gym and she could get away with being several minutes late. Cleo looked at JP and seeing again just how short the boy was, she scrunched herself down as best as she could before walking over.

"That was great," she said. "It was amazing how you answered everything like perfectly. We wouldn't have won without your help."

JP let out a huff. "I read Great Expectations when I was nine. You know, I thought this was supposed to be a school with educated students, but I can see now that I was thoroughly misinformed." With that, he picked up his book bag and walked off, leaving behind a shocked Cleo and Robbi.

"He just totally dissed the whole school," said Cleo.

Robbi only let out a huff as if to say "I told you," then pointed after the boy. "And get a load of that."

Despite his cold manner and rude behavior, JP had a flock of admirers following him as he walked to his next class. A moment later a group of cheerleaders came fluttering around the boy, vying for his attention, then several guys on the football team showed up, good-naturedly punching the rich boy's arm. To Cleo, JP seemed to be looking down his nose at all of them.

At lunchtime, Cleo and Robbi were only slightly surprised to see the Edsel-Mellon boy seated at a center table amidst many of the most popular kids in Walton.

"Gee," said Robbi, "I guess all it takes is money and you're guaranteed a place at the top."

Cleo nodded and wondered if she would actually feel good being invited to join the popular clique at the center table if the only reason was that her family was rich. She decided that she would be happier sitting in a back corner with her own pals, but it would be nice, just once, to be invited into the popular kids' group. Cleo sighed and followed Robbi to the back table.

When it was, at last, time to go home for the day, Cleo and Robbi banged their lockers shut and headed for the front gates where they ran into a standoff. The gold Rolls-Royce was directly in front of the Walton gates in the spot where the two buses that transported students to after-school activities usually parked. One of the bus drivers was asking the chauffeur to move the car, but the bearded man only stood there appearing not to hear a word. In a matter of minutes the two bus drivers were yelling at the limo driver at the top of their lungs.

It hadn't been a stellar day as far as Cleo was concerned and this annoyed her even more. Both Cleo and Robbi were doing their utmost to tune out the scene, but when they heard the crowd saying their good-byes to JP, they couldn't help glancing back.

The chauffeur moved like a marionette soldier as he opened the door, took the boy's bag with a stiff arm, then made the slightest of bows as JP entered the backseat. As Chuck formally presented the bag to the boy, one book fell out and to the ground. From their vantage point, Cleo and Robbi saw something no one else could see. When the shifty-eyed man leaned over to pick up the textbook, his uniform jacket flipped open, exposing a shoulder holster and gun.