Not that they were all exactly the same. One girl shoved her impudent face at me and told me to lose her number. That was puzzling since I had no idea who she was and I’d definitely never called her. Maybe she’d slipped it to me back when I was riding high on the fickle wave of approval.
For the record, a few kids tried to be helpful. They told me not to let it get to me and things like that. I appreciated it, even though most of them whispered their words of encouragement like undercover spies when no one else was around.
The one exception was Denise, who grinned and gave me a cheery wave as she met me on my way to gym class on Tuesday.
“Skylah says hi,” she said, good and loud. “And she said not to worry about what just happened because only cats are perfect.”
“Tell her thanks!” I said, surprised at how much a few friendly words had cheered me up.
Moments later, a new worry came at me. I was getting my gym shoes on when my name came over the PA system. I was being called down to the office. On the way there I had time to wonder how the growing fiasco of my life might have landed me in trouble at school.
I scuffed my way there as slowly as possible. The secretary, Mrs. Floutworthy, gave me a disapproving look, but since gloom and disappointment are her go-to expressions, I tried not to worry. She shook her head sadly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what a disappointment I was to the world in general.
“You called for me?” I said when I’d stood there for at least ten seconds and she still hadn’t spoken.
“Principal wants you,” she told me with a mournful sigh. “Just go right in.”
The door was open to Ms. Lam’s office, but I stopped and waited for her to signal me in.
“Oh, Derek,” she said when she noticed me. “Come in and have a seat.”
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked as I lowered myself into one of two identical black cloth chairs that faced her desk.
“Wrong?” she said. “No. Nothing like that. But your teachers and I are concerned with things happening in your life — outside of school.”
My brain was still in trouble mode, so I braced myself to hear what kind of problems the roof incident was going to cause next.
“I wanted to offer you a chance to talk to someone — if you’d like to,” she continued.
“Who?” I asked.
“A counselor,” she said. “Someone who can help you navigate through some of the challenges you may be facing.”
I thought about that for a moment.
“No thanks,” I said at last. “I mean, I appreciate the offer and everything, but I think I’m okay.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “But if anything changes or you find you’re struggling dealing with this, don’t be afraid to let me, or any of your teachers, know. We’re here to give you whatever support we can.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said.
Ms. Lam smiled, stood, and shook my hand before I left.
My steps seemed lighter walking back to class. It felt good to know the school had my back! Funny how I’d assumed the worst — and I wasn’t the only one. Walking home at the day’s end, Steve asked me if I was in trouble.
“Because I got called to the office?” I said. “No, Ms. Lam was just checking if I was okay.”
“About what?”
“What do you mean about what?” I said. “Everyone in town knows about Friday night.”
“Oh,” Steve said. He looked at his feet. “I still feel terrible about taking off and abandoning you like that.”
“Forget it,” I said.
“It’s just that I panicked,” he said, like that might be news to me.
I got why he’d left me stranded. And I knew he probably couldn’t have done anything to help. It would just have meant trouble for him too.
I told him that, but he still felt bad, judging by how many times he said he’d make it up to me. But then he said something that made my hair stand on end.
“I’ll try to persuade Riley to get rid of the video she took on the roof,” he said. “It’s kind of too bad, though. Now no one will ever see me skywalking.”
I’d somehow forgotten that the videos taken on the ground were by no means the worst ones that were shot that day. And who knew how much worse the one Riley had taken on the roof was?
As it turned out, Steve did. He had the video on his phone. He admitted Riley had sent it to him the same day we’d been up there.
I didn’t want to see it, but it was one of those situations where I couldn’t help myself. I told him to forward it, which he did.
I braced myself and tapped Play.
It was worse than I could ever have imagined. SO much worse, although it started out kind of cool. There was Steve, moving through the mist, doing his skywalking stunt. It was perfect — a hauntingly cool sight.
And then it moved to me.
I wonder how many people have ever seen that much fear on a human face. Terror spilled from me in waves as clearly as the fog that rolled and drifted in the space between the roof and my feet.
If anyone in town doubted I was the biggest coward on the planet after seeing the other videos, they’d be dead certain of it if they ever saw this one.
I watched it through to the end, all two minutes forty-one seconds, and then forced myself to start over. It somehow seemed even worse the second time. I stoppedhalfway through.
There was no denying it. Riley’s video was a hundred times more humiliating than the ones that had already been shared. Cold sweat prickled the back of my neck. I could practically hear the roars of laughter.
Steve seemed to think he could talk her into deleting it, but I wasn’t counting on that happening. If there was one thing I knew for sure about Riley, it was that she did not like me. At all.
Fate had definitely turned on me. And it wasn’t through yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
My steps slowed to a near halt as I rounded the corner to my street and saw the police car sitting in our driveway. I didn’t know what they wanted, but it wasn’t hard to figure out who they were there to see.
The cruiser wasn’t the only thing that seemed out of place. There was also Paige, out on the front step, peering from side to side with her hand shielding her eyes from the sun, like a lookout on the bowsprit of a pirate ship.
Until she spied me. The second she did, a look of great joy lit up her face and she came pelting down the sidewalk. She was moving at such rocket speed that she barely got stopped in time to avoid crashing into me.
“You’re in trouble with the police,” she said with absolutely no attempt to disguise the happiness this was bringing her.
I sidestepped my gloating sister and picked up my pace, partly to get away from her and partly to get off the street and away from any lurking cameras. I had no particular reason to think anyone was capturing what was happening, but I’d learned it was always possible someone might be.
In spite of my increased speed, Paige shifted into high gear and zipped past me as I reached the door.
“I found him!” she announced importantly, as if she had single-handedly ended a nation-wide manhunt.
I stepped inside where I found a couple of officers waiting in the living room. Next to them were Anna, Kim, and … Steffie. Terrific.
They introduced themselves as Officers Jankowski and Donegan. Jankowski was tall and thin. He gave me a friendly smile which made it hard to imagine him getting tough on crime. Not that there’s much of that around here.
Donegan was the officer who thought she’d found a corpse, or at the very least a stabbing victim, when she’d first seen me on the roof of the train station. I drew myself up to my full five-foot-four-inch height and squared my shoulders, hoping for a manlier impression than I’d made on our first encounter.
“How are you, Derek?” she asked.
“I’m good,” I said, lowering my voice so I’d sound stronger and braver than the version of me she’d seen before. That was a mistake, judging by the strange, deep sound that came out of my mouth.
Paige snorted out a laugh and said, “What are you supposed to be, a robot?”
Officer Donegan ignored her. “We’re just waiting for one of your parents to get here, Derek,” she said.
“I called Mom,” Kim said helpfully.
Even though my head was spinning with questions about what the police wanted, I still managed to be aware of Steffie’s eyes on me. She wasn’t the only one who was practically staring, but she was the only one whose opinion I cared about.
Officer Jankowski made some small talk while we waited, breaking off in mid-sentence when we heard footsteps hurrying up the walk.
“I got here as fast as I could,” Mom said, flinging the door open and stepping inside. Her eyes darted around taking in the cluster of people gathered in the room. She quickly took command of the situation.
“Girls, upstairs. All of you.” She turned then to the officers, extending a hand and saying, “I’m Ali Cowell, Derek’s mom.”
The girls dragged their feet, but even so, the only thing they could have heard would have been the police introducing themselves to Mom, and Mom offering them coffee, which was politely refused.
“Then I guess you can go ahead and tell us what this is about,” Mom said.
“We’re following up on the incident this past Friday,” said Officer Donegan.
“The one where Derek was assisted off the roof of the old train station,” Officer Jankowski added, as if there’d been a bunch of incidents and he wanted to be sure we knew which one they were talking about.
“We have a few questions for Derek,” Donegan said.
“Is Derek in trouble?” Mom asked.
“Derek was trespassing,” Donegan said. She spoke slowly, as though she was choosing her words carefully. “And as a result of that action, emergency services had to be called.”
“Will there be charges?” Mom said.
“Well, that may depend,” Officer Jankowski said. “We understand there were two or three others up there, but they fled before we arrived on the scene.”
My throat was instantly dry.
“We can go easier on Derek if he cooperates and gives us the names of his accomplices,” Donegan said.
“Accomplices,” Mom repeated faintly. She looked at me. “How many of you were up there?”
I gave her a pleading look. I shook my head slightly, to show her I couldn’t — wouldn’t — rat anyone out.
Mom turned back to face the officers.
“Are you talking about criminal charges?” she said.
“He can probably avoid that if he cooperates,” said Donegan.
“But the others would be charged in that case?” Mom asked.
“Possibly, but Derek would be dealt with by the Diversion Program,” Jankowski said.
Donegan added, “Don’t forget, they left him up there to take the rap by himself.”
A horrible feeling of dread settled in my chest. Mom had to know Steve was involved. What if she decided to give him up to make things easier for me?
There was silence for a long moment or two. I stared at the floor, hardly breathing. And then Mom stood up.
“I think perhaps I should speak with an attorney before we go any further with this conversation,” she said.
Officer Jankowski scowled as he and Donegan got to their feet. “The offer of leniency could be withdrawn at any time,” he said.
“Noted,” Mom said coldly. But her face softened as she escorted them to the door and before they left she thanked them for helping me when I needed it.
I waited, expecting a lecture or interrogation or something. Instead, Mom walked past me without a glance. She went straight to the phone and made a call. To her attorney, apparently, though I was surprised she actually had one. I always thought the only people who needed lawyers were criminals.
The amazing thing was, later on, after Mom and Dad had talked it over, they both agreed it would be wrong for me to turn in anyone else in order to save myself.
“Our lawyer will speak to the prosecutor and make the best arrangement he can,” Mom explained.
I spent a lot of time wondering about this arrangement. It was hard not to picture myself being locked up in some kind of juvenile jail, surrounded by gang members who spent all their spare time working out and thinking up ways to torture scrawny guys like me. I wondered if I should start honing my begging-for-mercy skills. Or maybe I had time to get a macho tattoo before I got sent to the slammer. (Like Mom would let me.)
After enduring the snide remarks at school for the past few days I’d convinced myself the worst was behind me. Now, the law was after me and I had no idea what was going to come of that. It seemed that, after all, the worst was still to come.
And, it turned out, I didn’t know the half of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Anna never does anything I tell her to do. Normally, she actually does the exact opposite. And she loves to tell me I am not the boss of her, or, in fact, the boss of anyone or anything.
So it was a bit of a surprise this Saturday, when she took my advice and went to volunteer at the animal shelter. She even asked me a few questions before heading out. I was tempted to prank her — just a little — by giving her a bogus list of things to take along, but something about her face made me change my mind. I wished her good luck instead.
She was gone for most of the afternoon, and when she came home it was with shining eyes, an announcement that Denise is the nicest person she ever met, and a cage with a seriously overweight rabbit.
“Mom will never let you keep that,” Paige said. Paige had been extra grumpy since early this morning when Kim, the WORST sister ever, tried to ruin her life. I didn’t get all the details, but it had something to do with the PVR and some reality show.
“I’m just babysitting him for a while, and Mom already said I could,” Anna answered. “Plus, bunny doesn’t have a name so I get to call him whatever I want.”
Paige shrugged and went to find other opportunities for spreading misery.
“I’m going to call him Nibbles,” Anna said, kneeling down in front of the cage and peering in. “Do you think he’d like that?”
“I don’t think rabbits care what you call them,” I said. “And don’t get too attached. You know you can’t keep him.”
“Mom said I can keep him for two weeks if I take care of him,” she said huffily.
But on Sunday morning it seemed doubtful Nibbles would be with us anywhere near that long.
I woke up early, peed and headed downstairs for a glass of apple juice before going back to bed. That’s when I discovered the bountiful bunny had somehow managed to get out of the cage during the night.
I hadn’t even made it to the bottom of the stairs when I saw the first batch of rabbit deposits. (I don’t have to spell that out, right?) I paused on the bottom step, peering as far as I could see in all directions. Nibbles had been hard at work — all night long by the look of it.
I picked my way cautiously down the hall toward the kitchen, which is where I found him, sitting on the mat in front of the sink. My guess would be that he needed rest. Covering that many floors with turds must have taken a lot out of him. (Good one, huh?)
“You’ll be gone before noon, pal,” I told him. He twitched his nose.
There wasn’t the slightest doubt in my mind that I was right. Mom would freak when she saw what he’d done. I could practically hear the screeches.
Anna now had about as much chance of keeping that rabbit for two weeks as I had of being Steffie’s date for the prom. Not that I’d ever imagined what that would be like. Not seriously anyway.
Anna’s not much for hiding he
r feelings, so I knew we’d all be listening to her boo-hooing once Nibbles got sent packing. I could almost see her, going around with a droopy face and trembling lip, but that wouldn’t be the worst of it. Anna can manufacture the most horrible, shuddering sobs you ever heard when she’s heartbroken about something.
Aw, heck.
I grabbed the dumb rabbit so I could jam him back into his cage. He put up a fight, kicking and struggling, and, at one point, catching my nose with a flailing foot. I finally stuffed him in, slammed the door shut, and made sure it was solidly latched. My nose was bleeding slightly from his claw or hoof or whatever a rabbit has, but it was just a drop or two. Nothing I couldn’t wipe off on my sleeve.
It didn’t take as long as I’d expected to sweep up the scattered balls of bunny poop. Thankfully, they’re hard and dry, unlike the puddles I found in the laundry room off the kitchen. I swabbed those up with the mop and squirted the floor with some kind of spray.
Then I went back to bed. The second time I went downstairs, a couple of hours later, Anna and Dad were outside and the rabbit was with them. Dad was making some kind of temporary shelter for it in the backyard.
I slid the kitchen window open and said, “What’s up?”
Anna swung around and, seeing me there, stuck her tongue out and told me it was none of my business.
I was annoyed for a couple of seconds, but I reminded myself she didn’t know what I’d done for her earlier. Besides, she was probably still upset over losing her best blackmail customer. That thought actually made me smile.
“What happened to your nose?”
I jumped a bit. Mom had come up behind me and was looking at the scratch mark handsomely displayed in the middle of my face.
“Nothing. The rabbit clawed me.”
The way she reacted, you’d have thought I’d said I’d been in the festering jaws of a Komodo dragon.
“You were clawed by a wild animal?” she said.
“I think it’s tame if it lives in a cage,” I said. I thought that was a valid point, but Mom didn’t seem to agree.
The Rise and Fall of Derek Cowell Page 9
