I couldn't believe it. I mean, Quigley and Isadora and Violet and Klaus and Sunny couldn't believe it either, but I was the angriest.

As soon as we left the general office, I let out a yell and kicked the door with all my might. There was an inch-deep dent in it. "Dunn, it's okay," Izzy said, trying to console me.

"No it's not okay!" I shouted. "Sixty billion dollars and a chance to redeem ourselves-blown away because some pothead who doesn't understand the meaning of prescription medicine is a turn-around jackass!"

Sunny gasped. "What?" I said. "It means donkey!" "Oh," Sunny said. "Duncan, we know how you feel," Violet said. "We know you were really counting on this working. But you were the only one of us that even had the brains to think up the idea and had the guts to face Nero."

"She's right," Quigley said. "At least you stood up to the jerk! We should have backed you up." "It wouldn't have worked anyhow," I said, sitting in a chair. "The guy has a head filled with steel bars and lug nuts. The only thing beyond all that is a practically peanut-sized brain with a surrounding wall of stubbornness. Besides, he could have expelled us if he wanted. We wouldn't have had a chance. My idea never had a chance. I never had a chance."

I buried my face in my hands. Quigley put his arm on my shoulder and after a while said, "I think we should do it." I looked up at him. "Did you just say…?" "Yeah," he said. "I say we show that lip-smacking sucker whose boss."

"Yeah, right," Klaus said. "If you want to get expelled, go ahead. But this school is the only sanctuary we have. Same for you guys, too." "I don't know, Quigley," Violet said. "You should never try an insane man, especially when he has the power to expel us."

"No, look," Quigley said. "Carmelita's parents own Prufrock, right? We could call them and tell them Nero's trying to make sure Carmelita doesn't get out of jail. They could fire him!"

"Even so," Isadora said, "there's always a consequence to every action. Nero would be out to get us, one person at a time. He might even go by age, starting with Sunny…"

"Don't scare me!" Sunny said, backing away. "Sorry, Sunny," Isadora said. "But what I mean is, even if Nero is fired, Carmelita's stuck-up, right? So her parents probably wouldn't care one way or another about us. They wouldn't care about getting us back in. And we couldn't afford to be expelled, either. Heck, I doubt they'll even give us the sixty billion!"

"You never know," Quigley said. "But we can't take that gamble," Klaus said. "It's Carmelita or us. We have to make a decision here. Carmelita or us. What's your choice, Quigley? It's saving Carmelita…or saving ourselves."

Violet clapped her palm to her forehead and groaned. "Why does it have to be so complicated?" she griped. "Everywhere we go, we're surrounded by huge decisions. I see where you're coming from, Quigley, and I know it won't look good on Nero's record as VP of a fine academy to have a student convicted of alleged illegal drug use. But Nero doesn't care about that! He doesn't care if his record's clean as a whistle or dirty as a sewer; as long as he has a job."

"But the voting," Quigley said. "What about the voters who would be there on Friday? We don't know if there'll be one voter or one thousand voters. But we still have a heck of a lot of candy bars. Bribery…" "Don't count on it," I said. "Nero may be stupid, but he's not retarded, no matter how close to it he is. He won't take one or one-hundred fifty candy bars."

"Still, the voters," Quigley persisted. Then, Klaus clicked on the TV. It was the news. "I'm Ingrid North," said the newsperson. "We have breaking news. Several hundred citizens, disturbed by an article written in Monday's edition of the Daily Cheetah, stating that seventeen-year-old Carmelita Spats will be convicted of alleged illegal drug use unless several citizens vote at Town Hall this Friday. The article was written by Duncan Quagmire. The two Spats parents, Phoebe and Harlan, are alarmed of the situation."

"But I don't get it," Sunny said. "If they're so rich, why don't they pay the fine?" "Its way more serious than paying fines, Sunny," Violet said. "It's child conviction. This goes beyond juvenile detention." "Why?" Sunny asked.

Ingrid North continued, "Since they cannot pay the fine, their hope remains in Duncan Quagmire, and, if any of his comrades' hands."

Just then, my cell phone rang. I answered it. "Is this Duncan Quagmire?" said a feminine voice on the other end. "Who is this?" I asked. "I'm Phoebe Spats," said the woman. My mouth hung open. "I've heard of what you're planning to do," Mrs. Spats continued. "And I'm very proud that you, and if any of your friends, are concerned about my daughter. My husband Harlan and I just want to thank you."

"Well, Mrs. Spats, I have doubts I'll be able to pull it off," I said dismally. "What? How come?" Mrs. Spats asked. I sighed. "It's complicated. But bottom line is Nero Tyrannous, the Vice-Principal of the school I go to, Prufrock Prep, is forbidding me from doing so." I heard a groan on the other end, and a light, etched, "Harlan, Nero's the reason they can't do it." Then a gruff voice said, "Go figure."

Mrs. Spats' voice returned. "Well Duncan, Nero has been causing plenty of trouble lately. He's always been a troublemaker. Even though, as you probably know, we own the school, but are not permitted to fire him, for reasons I cannot say. We've tried countless times to, though. He just sort of slips through the cracks, you know what I mean? I do not know what to say, except…have you spoken to the principal?"

"You mean Nero?" I asked. "No, the REAL principal," Mrs. Spats said. "Oh, you may not know who…the principal is. But…" "But what?" I asked. "Who is the principal?"

"I can't tell you specifically," Mrs. Spats said. In the background, Harlan said something like, "Don't be too exact on his location…" Mrs. Spats continued, "But what I can tell you is where you can find him."

Things were sounding pretty good. But what wasn't was the sound of Isadora's asthmatic intensity building up. Everyone was crowded around me, trying to hear. She was stuck in the middle, and her asthma was building up.

I turned to her. "Izzy? Are you okay?" "Duncan?" Mrs. Spats' voice was getting urgent. "Are you still there?" Then Isadora fell to her knees and began violently ranting and raving. I dropped the cell phone and it switched off. Then I searched her pockets for her inhaler.

"Where's the inhaler?" Quigley screamed. Isadora couldn't talk. She was having a major meltdown. Literally. Then I tore her dresser apart, looking for it. "In the mirror," she wheezed with heavy difficulty.

She has a trick mirror where behind it she stores her personal things. I forgot how to work it, so I smashed the mirror with my hand and grabbed the inhaler. I inserted it into her mouth and puffed the thing like crazy.

Air flowed into her lungs, and she began to cough heavily. After the coughing fit, she said, "What's going on? What happened?" "You were having an asthma attack," Klaus said. "Duncan found the inhaler."

"I'm glad you knew how to work the trick mirror," Isadora said. "I don't know what would've happened if you didn't know. You'd probably break the mirror or something." She started to laugh, and I said, "Um, yeah. Well, Mrs. Spats was saying that Nero's always been a troublemaker, and that I should see the real principal."

"There's a real principal?" Sunny asked. "Sure," Violet said. "All schools, even ones that have vice-principals; have to have an official principal, Sunny. So what then, Duncan?"

"She was going to tell me where I could find the real principal when Izzy had her asthma attack," I said. "I dropped the phone, and it must've switched off." "So you can't call them back?" Klaus asked.

I shrugged. "Probably not. I don't have their number. And I should have gotten it."

Quigley said, "Well, I just got an idea."

"What's that?" Klaus said. "We ask Nero about the real principal," Quigley said.

"Come on, Quig," I said. "If we ask about the real principal, Nero-Zero will know we're just trying to get the principal's permission. And the principal would probably say yes."

"What really surprises me is that we haven't heard anything about the real principal up until now," Isadora said.

"Do you think it's a he or she?" Klaus asked.

Violet shrugged. "That wouldn't probably matter."

Sunny said, "Well, what do you think would happen if we just went on with the preparations, as if Nero had said nothing?"

"We get expelled," Klaus said ironically. "I see what you mean, Sunny, but face it. Nero's just the wrong man with the wrong job with the wrong power-"

"With the wrong brain," Sunny said. "But think about it. How come he's said nothing about getting permission from the real principal when we first asked him?"

That got us all stumped. We'd never really thought about it.

"That's because he obviously knows something we don't," Sunny stated. "I mean, if the real principal said yes, Nero would have to say yes, right?"

"I guess," Isadora said. "Yeah," Quigley said. "You're right on track, Sunny! But the only missing piece of the puzzle is: who is the principal and where can we find him or her?"

"I'll ask around," Violet said. "I'll help you," Isadora said. "I'll ask Andrew and Brownley what they know, anything that went in their left ear and forgot to go out the right," I said. "Maybe I can get a kick out of one of the office workers," said Quigley. "I think I'll go with you," Sunny said.

I headed back to my dorm, unlocked the door, and saw Andrew and Brownley watching The Grudge. When I opened the door, they jumped several off their chairs.

"Christ, Duncan!" Andrew exclaimed. "You scared us half to death!" "If you're so scared, why are you watching that?" I asked. "It was the only horror movie besides Boogeyman we could find that wasn't R-rated and didn't cost a heck of a lot of money," Brownley explained.

"Where do you get these movies, anyway?" I asked. Andrew looked at me. "That's classified information." "The man sells 'em cheap," Brownley said.

"You idiot!" Andrew exclaimed. Brownley clapped a hand over his mouth. "What?" I said. "Who's the man?"

"None your business," Andrew said quickly. "Watch the movie or go away." I grabbed him up by the collar and slammed him up against the wall. "Tell me or you'll eat that disc," I warned.

"Hey, it's only getting to the good part!" Brownley said. I ignored him and said, "You better tell me or-"

"The man is the principal!" Andrew cried. Wait a second. Was I hearing right? But it made no sense. Why would the principal sell DVDs? But at least I now knew the principal was a man.

"Who is the principal?" I demanded. "I…shouldn't say," Andrew said, looking away.

I grabbed hold of his throat and started to squeeze. "Say it," I ordered. "I hear DVD discs coated in chocolate taste quite good."

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone else," Andrew said resentfully. I nodded. "Go on. Who is it?"

Andrew whispered a name in my ear. I was completely shocked at what I heard.

"Andrew, stop joking," I warned. "Now tell me who it really is or I'll squeeze the life out of you."

"Who did he say?" Brownley asked.

I repeated the name. Brownley nodded. "It's true, Duncan, I swear it is," he said. "Just put him down. He's telling the truth."

I let him go, and he fell to the floor, banging his head on the wall. I stuffed the key in my pocket and said, "If it comes out that you two are lying, I'll give you the worst treatment you'll ever experience."

Then I left. The only thought on my mind was, why him, of all people?

Okay you guys, I'm keeping the principal's identity a secret, until the last chapter, which is coming soon. I know I promised the story to end back in May, but I have summer reading projects, blast the person that came up with summer reading! But I'll break my own commitment. I will slowly update each of my stories, starting with In Between the Walls. I just don't want to lose my fans.