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resolved, you will be attending the JFK Alternative Education Center.”
    Griffin was aghast. “You mean
Jail For Kids
?”
    The judge glowered disapprovingly. “It’s not jail. I’ve seen jail. You don’t want to see it, too. JFK is the alternative program for secondary school kids in the county. Its students are there for various reasons — educational, social, behavioral, and legal.”
    Mr. Bing stood up. “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
    The judge smiled. “That still counts. This isn’t a sentence. I think it’s a good idea to take Griffin out of the atmosphere where his problem is percolating.”
    “What about all my friends?” Griffin protested.
    “Perhaps you could use a rest from them as well. And vice versa.” The crack of the gavel made it official. “We’re adjourned until October twenty-ninth.”

8
    E ven Ferret Face, peeking out from Ben’s collar, wore a woebegone expression.
    Griffin and Ben, best friends since kindergarten, stood on the corner, waiting for the JFK bus to shatter their unbroken streak of attending the same school.
    “Jail For Kids,” Ben mourned. “I never thought one of us would have to go there. Alcatraz, maybe, but not JFK.”
    His attempt at humor got not even a smile from Griffin. “I can’t believe this! It’s so unfair! The whole point of living in America is so this can’t happen to a person!”
    They were joined at the bus stop by another JFK student, obviously a high schooler. He was six foot four with a full beard and a tuft of chest hairemerging from his shirt. Short, slight Ben felt the sun blocked out by the sheer bulk of him.
    The newcomer regarded them without much interest. “New victims?”
    “Just him!” squeaked Ben, pointing at Griffin.
    The towering high schooler gave Griffin a onceover. “I’ve got zits bigger than you.”
    “It’s a mistake,” Griffin mumbled. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
    “Yeah — me, neither. I was innocent. All six times.”
    Griffin and Ben each took a step back and nearly tumbled off the curb into the road.
    Ben leaned close to his friend. “You know what’s the weirdest part of all this? How your lost retainer ended up where the ring was supposed to be. Have you thought about that?”
    “Are you kidding? I’ve thought about nothing but. That’s why nobody believes me — because they can’t understand how it could have happened if I didn’t do it.”
    “Well, how could it have happened?”
    “I was framed.”
    Ben just stared at him.
    “You know — framed! Set up! Railroaded! Whoever stole that ring found my retainerand planted it in the display case so I’d get the blame.”
    Ben was wide eyed. “But who?”
    “I haven’t figured that out yet,” said Griffin. “But I will. That’s a promise.”
    Both were amazed when a regular yellow school bus rattled up to the stop.
    Their companion was amused. “What were you expecting? A prison transport?”
    With a last desperate look at his best friend, Griffin followed the bearded high schooler aboard.
    The door slapped shut, and the vehicle roared away, leaving Ben on the sidewalk, awash in guilt. At this terrible moment, all he could think of was how grateful he was that
he
wasn’t the passenger en route to Jail For Kids.
    The John F. Kennedy Alternative Education Center was housed in the old Cedarville Public Library and served 187 students from the seventh through twelfth grades.
    It would be wrong to say that every single kid was a juvenile delinquent. There was a variety of students with special needs, and some who simply had trouble getting along in regular school. But forthe most part, the rumors about this place were true. It was the dumping ground for the worst of the worst in the county.
    Griffin had expected to hate it. He just hadn’t expected to hate it this much. He was the youngest, and the smallest, and the weakest — although there were no bullying problems at JFK. The teachers were tougher than the