by M. M. Cox
Tommy studies me, but he doesn’t appear angry—he appears smug. That worries me more than anything else. What does Tommy know that I don’t? I pretty much beat Tommy in our fight; shouldn’t he be angry? He takes a step toward me, and I feel Portia surge forward. She also has some unfinished business, but I instinctively hold her back by the arm, not wanting her to get hurt by Tommy again. Tommy laughs at my protective action, and Portia stomps on my foot, forcing me to let go. She steps away from me and scowls.
“So, the gutter-rat is making a play for the used-car hottie. Isn’t that really pathetic?”
Tommy’s buddies laugh at his lame joke, but the rest of us remain motionless. I am uneasy about Tommy’s new nickname for me. What does this kid know? Tommy reaches his hand toward me; he holds a piece of folded paper in it. I lean forward cautiously and take it, expecting to be rushed at any moment. I keep the note in my hand but don’t unfold it, and Tommy smirks. “See you after school!” he says, turning away from us and walking down the hall, the other bullies trailing behind him.
Portia makes a short, irritated noise and turns to me. “Why did you stop me, Danny?”
she asks heatedly.
“I thought you wanted me to protect you guys,” I reply.
“I do. It’s just—well—he deserves to be smacked in the face!”
I try not to smile but can’t help myself. That is the first unkind comment I have heard from Portia. And I agree wholeheartedly with her; Tommy deserves to be smacked.
“What’s on the paper?” Tony asks.
I glance down at the paper and slowly unfold it, wondering what Tommy would write to me.
“I’m surprised he can write at all,” Tony says, half jokingly. I lift my head and grin, surprised by Tony’s attempt at humor. Tony gives me a weak smile back. We may be able to get along, I think, but of course, that depends on where Portia decides to direct her affection. I could never be friends with Tony if Tony were Portia’s boyfriend. Then I read the note, and suddenly, my competition with Tony seems like the least of my worries.
“What does it say?” Portia asks.
I hand her the note. “He wants me to meet him.”
Portia reads the note slowly. “Meet me in the gym after school, or prepare to have everyone know who you really are.” She purses her lips together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea,” I answer, but in my mind I think I may have an idea. It couldn’t be the fight we had last week—Tommy would have nothing to gain by revealing that to the people at the school. What else does Tommy know about me? He had called me a gutter-rat. That’s not exactly true, but it’s getting close. Tommy can’t know anything about me that’s personal—can he?
“So, what are you hiding?” Tony asks, attempting to sound curious, but I can sense the edge of suspicion in his voice. I look at Portia. She is studying me intently, yet she doesn’t ask any questions. I feel frustrated, even though I don’t know for sure what Tommy knows. I must be patient to find out what is going on—and patience, unfortunately, is not something that comes easy for me.
* * * *
By the end of the first day of school, I realize that high school is going to be completely different from middle school. Of course, the change in school districts only makes that difference bigger. The classes are going to be much more challenging—no longer can I do the bare minimum and still manage to make an A. I already have a ton of homework and am worried about being able to finish it in one evening. Of course, completing my homework would probably not be a problem if I wasn’t so concerned with planning my personal investigation of Gino, which I hope to begin tonight.
The teachers are more energetic and less stressed than those in Ridley. My schedule will alternate every other day, and I am glad that I won’t have to worry about algebra until tomorrow. So far, I think I will get along with my teachers. I especially like the homeroom and history teacher, Miss Lowe—not only because she is nice but also because she is hot, for a teacher anyway. By the interest from the other guys in the class, I know I’m not the only student impressed with her appearance. The English teacher, Mr. Capriotti, seems like a good guy also, but I am distracted by the fact that he shares a last name with the man Gino mentioned last night.
Portia, Tony and I all have biology as our final class of the day, so after the bell, we stroll down the hallway toward our lockers. Portia seems to have a friend tucked into every corner of the school, but she obviously spends the most time with Tony, much to my dismay. At the moment, the three of us are joined by one of those friends, a small, curvy girl with long, straight dark hair and brown eyes. Portia introduces her as Evie Alvarez, and she’s pretty but talks too much about her dad, a Newcastle detective. I’m hoping Evie won’t always be hanging around us because she seems endlessly interested in the Vigliottis. And I’m also a little ticked at Portia because she told Evie about Tommy wanting to meet me after school. Evie is very curious about that too, but I have given her nothing but a grunt or head movement in answer to her volley of questions. I’m actually a little afraid she might follow me there.
That thought leads me to wonder if Portia will want to come with me when I face off with Tommy. I can’t let her because I just don’t know what Tommy is going to say, and I don’t want to lose Portia as a friend if the truth comes out about my past. I think of how uninterested in me the girls in Ridley were when they found out which neighborhood I lived in or where my dad worked. And those were Ridley girls—hardly much better off than I! I don’t believe Portia is that shallow, but I’m not going to take the chance. Especially when I’m competing with boy genius, Tony.
We stop at our lockers, and I pull out the books I need for my homework. Portia asks Tony if we can all get together to tackle biology homework tonight. He nods, and she turns to me. “You want to study with us tonight?”
I shake my head. I know it’s strange to turn down a girl that I’m really into, especially when that means she’ll be spending that time with Tony. But I must figure out what to do about Gino before I concentrate on anything else. Biology homework comes in a distant second. I notice the exultant look on Tony’s face, and I momentarily have second thoughts. Portia frowns at me. “You’re not going to see Tommy, are you?”
“I’ve got to. I need to know what he wants.”
“You can’t go by yourself,” she states, although she doesn’t volunteer to go with me.
“Maybe I’ll make Vince come. He owes me for helping him kick Tommy’s butt.” I try to smile as I say this, but the fact is that Vince is the only person I can take who already knows about my past and can help me out if the situation calls for it.
“So, you’re worried about something that Tommy knows about you,” Tony states, not too nicely. “What are you hiding from us?”
Evie’s eyes grow wide with interest as Portia turns to glare at Tony. Tony shrugs. “Well, if he doesn’t have a dirty past, then he wouldn’t have anything to be worried about, would he?”
Tony’s smug tone irritates me. “Well, Tony. I’m sure you’re quite perfect. If only we could all be so squeaky clean,” I say sarcastically, furiously slamming my locker. I then turn my back on them and stride down the hall, half hoping Portia will chase me down. She doesn’t.
As I walk away, I attempt to let go of my rage so that I can talk to Tommy with a level head. In the mood I’m in right now, I feel like beating the crap out of that bully. I need to find Vince and ask whether he will go with me to meet Tommy and company. I find Vince sitting alone on a bench outside the school and am somewhat surprised that he is not socializing with anyone else, although less surprised to find him munching on a Snickers.
Vince rolls his eyes when he sees me. “Well, it’s about freakin’ time! Now, we’ve just got to go surgically remove Julia from her bratty clones.”
I can’t help but laugh, but then I quickly tell Vince I need his help to confront Tommy. Vince seems flattered by the invitation. “Of course, let’s go be
at the snot out of that little snot.”
“What about Julia?” I ask.
“She has more rides home than she could use in a school year. She can take care of herself—or she can wait,” Vince replies, obviously concerned very little with any inconvenience his sister may be forced to experience by his sudden disappearance. We make our way to the gym, which is actually crowded with girls at cheerleading tryouts. I see Tommy and his two friends standing in the corner, ogling the girls in their tight athletic clothing. I’m glad that Tommy has not added anyone else to his entourage, because it means that Vince and I are only outnumbered three to two. Unfortunately, that could be just enough to tip the scales in Tommy’s favor if the meeting ends in a fight. Tommy jerks his thumb toward the doors at the side of the gym, and Vince and I shuffle past the crowd of girls to follow them outside. Before opening the doors to walk out, I turn to Vince. “Back me up, man. No matter what happens, don’t run out on me.”
Vince seems genuinely offended. “Hey, I’m here now, right? I kinda think I know how this meeting might go, and I’m ready for a fight if you are.”
“Let’s just see what they want first,” I reply, pushing open the heavy metal door. In the bright August sun, Tommy and his buddies face us, as if ready to pounce. Maybe a rematch is all Tommy wants. Better yet, maybe he doesn’t have any information about me after all. Vince and I walk within a few yards of Tommy and wait for someone from the other side to make the first move.
But Tommy doesn’t rush me like he did at the car lot. Instead, his mouth curves into a sneer, a look that makes me more uneasy than if Tommy ran up to me and threw a punch.
“What do you want, Tommy?” I finally ask, deciding that the sooner things get started, the sooner this will all be over with, for better or for worse.
Tommy’s grin widens. “So tough, aren’t you, gutter-rat? I should have known you weren’t a Newcastle kid. You’re a filthy kid from a filthy town. Ridley, is it? I think that’s where Newcastle dumps its garbage. That’s the only thing Ridley has—a big pile of garbage.”
Tommy’s rant is ridiculous, and yet, he is saying the very thing that I am afraid the other kids will think if they find out I’m from Ridley. My heart starts pumping furiously, and my hands tingle with anticipation. I want to fight Tommy and make him promise to keep his mouth shut. Vince is restless beside me, but we wait. Tommy has not yet played his hand.
“And then,” Tommy continues, “I found out that you’re not only from that rat-hole, but you’re on the bottom of the food-chain there, which really makes you scum. Apparently, you’re so scummy your crappy parents didn’t even want you.”
I can barely hold myself back now. “What’s your point, Tommy?” I ask angrily. Tommy is thrilled with my hostility. “Kids here hate Ridley. It’s the butt of everyone’s joke. Even Portia hates it.” He pauses for a moment to let that statement sink in. “I suppose you probably don’t want people around here to know you come from that garbage dump. But more than that, you probably don’t want everyone to know your mom’s a slut.”
That’s it. I’ve been set in motion. I spring toward Tommy, Vince on my heels.
“Doonesby’s here, you know.”
Tommy’s words bring me to a halt just as I’m lifting my fist to drive it into his nose. Vince skids to a stop behind me. I want to punch the smirk off Tommy’s face, but at the name of my old middle school principal, I hold back. “Who’s Doonesby?” I ask, hoping Tommy won’t sense my strong interest in the name.
“Well, apparently, after dating a student’s married mother, he was fired from his old job in Ridley,” Tommy explains. “However, he had won a ton of awards or something during his career, so I guess the county decided to downgrade him to a teaching position in a place where no one would recognize him. And Newcastle is about as different from Ridley as it gets. People from Newcastle don’t visit Ridley, and people from Ridley are so flat broke they can’t even afford the bus ride here.”
I quickly realize that Tommy knows my mother is the one who had been spending time with Mr. Doonesby. How Tommy had been able to get that information, I don’t know. As angry as Tommy is making me by ridiculing me and my family, I also feel that some of those remarks are true. Ridley is a trashy town, and many of the people who live there act like trash too. I can’t let Tommy reveal all this stuff about me to the students at Newcastle or I’ll be an outcast. I enjoyed the flirty looks I got from the girls this morning; they can’t know I come from the nastiest town in New Jersey. Tommy definitely has the upper hand. Vince, however, is not quite defeated, probably because it’s not his reputation that’s in danger. “Tommy, Danny’s already way more popular than you. Everyone hates you. You’re the scum around here, not Danny.”
I stare at Vince. That was quite the statement from a kid who has proven himself to be extremely shallow up until this moment.
Tommy starts laughing. “Oh, right. Well, at least I’m not a dumb Vigliotti. Your dad’s just as stupid as you are. He’s going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere—maybe Ridley,”
Tommy taunts.
Vince rushes him immediately, but Tommy’s two friends step in and hold him back. Vince is like an angry bear, struggling violently and cursing like a drunken sailor, but he can’t shake them both. I close the last foot of space between myself and Tommy, push him to the ground, and pin him.
“Leave Vince alone,” I say.
Tommy is not concerned. “In a minute. As soon as you agree to do what I say.”
“Or?” I prompt, holding my arm against his chest, close to his neck.
“Or else.”
I frown at him but then rise to my feet and step back, letting Tommy raise himself up on his elbows. “What could you possibly want from me?” I demand. “You said it yourself—I’m nobody.”
“You’re right. You’re nothing, gutter-rat,” Tommy replies, casually getting to his knees and brushing himself off, his expression smug. “However, you’ve got some information about Doonesby that I don’t think he’d be too thrilled to have spread around the school.”
I look at Tommy in surprise. “Why in the world would I blackmail Mister Doonesby?
He could easily call my bluff. I don’t want people to know that stuff anymore than he does.”
“Then you’ll have to convince him you don’t care about your reputation. Even though we both know you do.” Tommy grins as he stands, obviously pleased that he has me cornered. “You see, I’m not a real whiz at math. It’s just not something I’m really concerned about, you know? But apparently, I’m not getting a car until I get an ‘A’ in that stupid class. So I may need a little help from our dirt-bag of a math teacher, and my buddies might too. Isn’t that right, guys?”
But Tommy’s buddies can’t answer him. One against two, Vince has somehow managed to gain the advantage. He has thrown the shorter kid to the ground and is now facing off with the freakishly tall, white-blond teenager.
Tommy swears. “You two are worthless. Get off the ground, Paul! Kurt, just leave Vigliotti alone!”
Paul scrambles up, and Kurt backs away from Vince.
“Don’t agree to do anything he asks you, Danny!” Vince orders. I turn to Tommy. “Why not blackmail Doonesby yourself?”
“Oh, I don’t really like to get my hands dirty,” Tommy replies. My eyes narrow. Liar, I think. You’re setting me up. But really, what can I do at this moment? I must keep Tommy from revealing my past to the entire school until I can come up with another plan.
I turn to Vince. “What choice do I have?”
Chapter 7
The ride home is quiet. Vince is still seething from the afternoon’s non-fight, and I can tell he is angry at me for accepting Tommy’s terms. I want to explain to Vince that I’m not going along with Tommy’s plan, but I’m forced to agree to it until I can figure out a way to keep Tommy quiet.
With the exception of the Tommy incident, the first day of school was better than I had expected; so far, the other kids (and most importantl
y, the girls) are friendly. Will that change if they find out where I’m from—or worse, my connection to Mr. Doonesby? I can feel anger at my mom building inside of me again. Even now, when I have the chance to make a fresh start, her actions are haunting me. The kids at Newcastle are from wealthy families with good names. Or are they? I glance at the sullen Vince and think about Gino and Tommy’s dad. I remind myself that, beneath the surface, things might not be as they seem. There is only one way to find out.
I think about Mr. Capriotti and again wonder whether the name has any connection to the one I heard last night. The English teacher seems nice, and I have difficulty believing he could be connected to the violent activity I witnessed yesterday. I have so much digging to do and, somehow, I must find time for a couple hours of homework. As Vince pulls up to the house, I notice a souped-up Honda in the driveway. When we walk inside the house, I see Julia and a tanned, blonde teen with huge muscles snuggling on the couch. They are kissing in between chatting on their cell phones, and I find myself feeling alternately grossed out by the blatant display of affection and amused by the fact that the two are talking more to outside callers than to each other.
As I set my backpack down on the hall floor with a loud thunk, I see Julia shoot me a superior look, which does nothing more than remind me that most pretty girls are like Julia, and fewer are like Portia. I experience a momentary pang of regret that Portia is spending time with Tony this evening, not with me, and that this was of my own doing. I know I should tackle my homework first, but I am impatient to start working on my plan to investigate Gino’s activities. Gino is probably upstairs asleep at the moment, so I go first to his office, knowing I won’t be noticed by Vince, who has probably retreated to his video games, or by Julia, who has a college student attached to her face. I take a brief look around the office, but nothing seems unusual. There are no papers saying, “More mob activity planned tonight,” and I feel foolish for hoping to find something so obvious. I start searching the office thoroughly, knowing that at any time Gino might come down the stairs and catch me. Surely I could come up with some story since he doesn’t know that I have anything to suspect. I spot a box underneath the computer desk, but when I try to unlatch it, I realize it is locked. Not to be discouraged easily, I check the top drawer of the desk, the one in which people always keep pens and junk, and jackpot: I find a little key. I’m always puzzled by people who leave keys so close to the items they open. But even as my pulse pounds with excitement when the key turns the lock on the box, I am disappointed to find nothing inside except a baggie with yet another key and a scrap of paper that reads, “Gallo” followed by a number code. Well, the last thing I need is any more trouble with the Gallos, so I replace the baggie, lock the box, and put the key back. But I jump in the air when I hear footsteps in the hallway and leap behind the desk just as Julia glides by on her way out the door.
