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rant. “He locked a guy in a decaying gym, attacked me, then threw my backpack in a Dumpster.”
    â€œI’m sure he had a good reason.”
    I toss my crumpled napkin at her. “Is there ever a good reason for kidnapping and violence?”
    â€œHe’s not like that,” she says defensively. “The Grin Reaper only goes after people who deserve to be punished. Last year, a senior named Clem shaved the fur off a stray dog that hung around school. When Principal Niphai found out, instead of punishing Clem he called the pound on the dog. Next day, Clem was attacked by a guy in a smiley face ski mask and two words were written in indelible ink on his forehead: Dog Abuser .”
    â€œSo?” I raise my brows.
    â€œThat was the first time. A month later, a soccer coach kicked a kid off the team because he’d come out as gay. Next day, there were Photoshopped pictures all over school of the coach wearing only a pink bra and lace panties. On the back of each photo was a smiley face sticker. After that the smiley faced vigilante became known as the ‘Grin Reaper.’”
    â€œOkay, so maybe those guys deserved it, but that doesn’t make up for what the masked guy did to me. You wouldn’t make excuses for him if you’d been there.”
    â€œI wish I had been,” Rune says wistfully. “Except for his victims, you’re only person who’s actually heard his voice.”
    â€œLucky me,” I say sarcastically. I’ve never seen Rune so brain-scrambled over a guy and frankly, it’s disturbing. “Snap out of your twisted hero worship and accept that the guy is a menace. I may be okay, but I have no idea how the caged guy is doing.”
    â€œI can find out.” Rune fishes her phone from a pocket in her oversized black-sequined sweater. “News spreads fast, so half the school will know by now.”
    I watch over her shoulder as she texts Amerie. I should have thought of calling Amerie. Our fairy-winged friend devours gossip blogs and knows everything practically before it happens.
    â€œGood news, Thorn,” Rune says a short while later, after her phone beeps with a new text. “The caged guy is fine.”
    My guilt eases. “I’m glad that poor kid is okay.”
    â€œThat ‘poor kid’ is Brute—I mean, Bruce—Gibson,” Rune tells me as she pays the check and we leave the donut shop. “He’s built like a wrestler and a loyal Jay-Clone—our favorite subhuman group.”
    I cringe at the mention of the preppy crowd that sucks up to Jay Blankenship because his father is Judge Blankenship, whose wallet funds school programs. The five guys strut around in fancy blue letter jackets—not for real sports like basketball or football, but for golf. Spoiled rich brats who think they own the school.
    â€œThis morning, Brute pranked a freshman from the Special Ed class,” Rune continues as we wait on the curb for traffic to pass. Her gaze is half on the road and half on her phone. She texts Thx back to Amerie, then slips her phone in her pocket. “Shoved the freshman into a locker and left him there for over an hour. Brute got off as usual, since he denied it and his Jay-Clone pals backed him up.”
    â€œThey’re the worst,” I agree.
    â€œThe Grin Reaper’s justice was perfect.” Rune grins. “I’m glad he’s back in action. I thought maybe he’d graduated or dropped out since he hadn’t struck this year—but now I think he must still be a student here. I’d give anything to meet him.”
    â€œDon’t talk stupid.”
    â€œSo he’s a little unorthodox in his methods.”
    â€œHe attacked me.” I lift my bruised wrists to remind her that he’s not a good guy.
    â€œI’m willing to forgive him for that.”
    â€œOh, you are?” I say sarcastically. “What a loyal best friend.”
    â€œOh, please.