H8RZ Page #5

be in charge, okay?!

- Ricky, this is why I said let us

handle it instead of these two losers.

- Wait, guys, stop.

Who would have the time to sit

in the security office for hours

and figure out

the surveillance system?

- They'd need a set of keys.

- Exactly, so then it can't be

a student.

Guys, whoever made this profile

would have to have access to the

school whenever they wanted to.

Brittany must work at Archer.

- And who knows the security system

better than officer Randals?

We split our time up

the best that we could.

Whenever someone

had a free period

or could get away from class,

sports, anything,

then they would follow

officer Randals.

If we caught him sending one of us a

text or doing anything incriminating,

then we would jump on him.

It made perfect sense.

He had a dead-end job

with probably

an equally depressing salary.

Nobody grows up aspiring to be

a security guard.

People wait their entire lives

to pounce on an opportunity

that can change their situation.

- Damn.

- Let's go.

- Look, I'm at Randals' house,

so... I don't know.

Give me a call

when you get this.

Hello?

- It's finally your time

to shine, Mr. president.

- I can't believe we're at

a goddamn football game.

- I can't believe we thought

that ugly bastard Randals

was behind Brittany Tammand.

- At this point,

it could be anyone.

Miss Sedgewick.

Miss Sedgewick, come in.

Miss Sedgewick, come down

to my office, pl...

- Go ahead.

- At every event, the

booster club sells concessions.

T-shirts and sweatshirts

and just stupid trinkets

for parents.

So before every game,

principal Donato

withdraws enough money

for change

and then deposits the take

the next morning.

- Were you gonna steal the cash?

- Not exactly.

Jack was in charge

of the booster club

his first two years at Archer.

He knew Donato

kept the deposit slips

in the cash drawer

at every game.

We weren't gonna steal the cash.

What Brittany wanted

was the account number.

- What are you doing here?

- I, uh... I...

- you should be out there leading

the cheer, Mr. class president.

Go on, get out there.

- Yes, sir.

Yeah!

Stampede!

- After we got

the account number,

we were supposed to send

Brittany an e-mail,

and she would give us

the next set of directions.

But we decided that this was our

chance to set a trap of our own

and finally find out

who she really was.

- Faustin!

- Oh. Uh, I-i heard there was

some trouble.

Is everything okay?

- Guys.

- Son of a b*tch.

All right.

Still want to kill me, Cameron?

- Mm-hmm.

- Why shouldn't we just turn you

in to the cops right now, huh?

- Turn me in to t...

For what?

For you stealing account numbers

and trying to create

a fake identity?

I-I didn't do anything.

- Why are you doing this?

- You think I like teaching

a bunch of kids

high school science?

I've had these two jackasses in my

classes for the last three years.

All they ever do is blab about their

their plans to con the school.

Well, I finally decided

to put 'em to the test.

So far, they're a lot less

incompetent than I suspected.

- What about the rest of us?

- I guess I'm just lucky.

Cameron.

Did you really think

a student who misses more

classes than a kid with leukemia

Asking me to make up

a lab wouldn't be a red flag?

You guys didn't even cover

your tracks.

I was just the only one

who paid attention.

- No, we're done with you.

Okay?

No matter what you say,

you're just as guilty as us.

And if you don't stop soon...

We're all gonna get caught.

- That's not how I see it.

- Yeah?

- No.

You see, I don't have

a lot to lose.

This... this is my future.

Surrounded by a bunch

of... Entitled brats.

But your futures...

they haven't even started yet.

Getting caught trying to defraud

a state-funded institution...

is a nice way to make sure

they never do.

- Ricky! Ricky.

- No more.

- What do you want us to do?

- I just think that...

Brittany Tammand

is owed a lot of money

by this school.

And since she's not around

to collect it,

I think I will.

- What the hell

are you talking about?

- The fundraiser

after she offed herself...

They collected a lot more

than the $60,000 they donated.

And you're gonna get it for me.

Alex isn't the only one

poking around

on the principal's computer.

- How much is it?

- Almost half a million dollars.

But don't... don't worry.

There's a very low chance of being

turned in for stealing stolen money.

But just in case, I'm gonna

let you take care of it.

Hand it over.

And then you'll never

hear from me again.

- How exactly are we

supposed to do that?

- I... I've given you

all the help I can.

Your father's a businessman.

Figure it out.

What?

- Miss Sedgewick.

- Excuse me, Alex.

- There's news from the hospital.

- You embezzled money...

You embezzled money from a charity

fund for a suicide victim.

If this leaks, our school system

will never recover.

You better be thanking god that most of

the people that know about this are dead.

Do we have to worry about Brittany's

family? They're all trailer trash.

I mean,

between the abuse at home

and her screwing any boy

that smiled at her,

it's a miracle she didn't...

Look, I thought if the school

held on to the funds,

maybe we could make some good come of it.

- If anybody finds out about this, Alex

Thomas is gonna be the least of your worries.

Do you have Brittany's files?

- Child services took our hard

copies right after the suicide,

but our...

Our state records have...

- I want them right now!

Okay.

- Jack is, um...

He's taken a turn for the worse.

- The sooner this all disappears,

the better.

What are you gonna do?

- I'm gonna make sure

that whatever happened,

Alex Thomas takes to the grave.

How's that transfer going?

- Paperwork should be ready soon.

- Great.

You want to check on that

for me?

- Okay.

- You know, I think I have the right to

know when my paperwork will be ready.

- I know.

No one can tell the future,

Alex.

Gum?

- No, thank you.

- No?

Okay.

So, why don't you, um, tell me

what happened after Faustin

talked to you

at the football game?

- Uh, after the football game,

uh, I guess we all went back

to our daily lives.

- Focus.

- Where's Ricky today?

Everything okay?

- He... he may have been pushed into

oncoming traffic on his way to school.

- Well, let me know

if you talk to him.

He can't afford to miss

too many classes.

- Is Ricky home?

- He's not well.

- Neither am I.

I still need to talk to him.

Watch out.

I'm not going to school to be

pushed around by that a**hole, man.

- We don't have a lot of options, Ricky.

- That's what you think.

Because if you didn't actually

know, we can do something

if you use that little brain of yours.

- You mean, you want to...

You want to do something about it?

- No. Are you crazy?

I mean, we do what we should have

done weeks ago. We tell the police.

- Are you crazy?

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