No one would have ever guessed that seven of the world's most talented teenagers were coming to the Henley that day for an entirely different sort of lesson.

I am practical by nature, and I'd heard that being a writer or an artist is a good way to starve! So I was an economics major at Oklahoma State, and then received an M.S. from Cornell in Agricultural Resource and Managerial Economics. I knew if I wanted to write I would do it on my own, but I knew I wouldn't make myself study economics on my own.

Boys! Are they always this impossible? Do they always say cryptic, indecipherable things? (Note to self: work with Liz to adapt her boy-to-English translator into a more mobile form—like maybe a watch or necklace.)

She'd absolutely adored the library_an entire building where anyone could take things they didn't own and feel no remorse about it.

You switched the days," I said, dismayed. "You blew the tire. You..." I trailed off, probably because the next words out of my mouth were either going to be "You are enough to do this?" or "You're destined for a life of crime." It was a toss-up either way.

Maybe Liz was right and she'd wanted someplace safe. Maybe Mr. Solomon really did understand that running was the only way Macey would find out if we'd run after her. Or maybe, like me, she just wanted to disappear for a little while

Okay, first thing tomorrow we hit the streets around Taccone's place. Somebody saw something.' 'I got it covered.' 'The DiMarcos might be in town.' 'Actually, they're in jail.' 'All seven of them?' Hale shrugged. 'It was an interesting October.