League of Strays

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League of Strays Page 19

by Schulman, L. B.


  He glanced around for potential eavesdroppers. “We can’t talk here. Please, Charlie, for me. For us.”

  I took a breath, then gave my thoughts a voice. “I don’t want to be part of your League anymore, Kade. Leave me alone.”

  “Nora doesn’t mean anything to—”

  The warning bell rang. I pushed past him.

  “Charlie?”

  Hugging my books to my chest, I took off, walking as fast as I could to get away from him.

  The hallway was jammed with kids shuffling to class like a herd of farm animals. Crowds had never bothered me before, but now I was struggling for air. I barreled into my next class, slung my backpack against the wall, and threw myself into a chair.

  I pretended that I didn’t see Kade’s face peering through the tiny window in the door.

  ZOE SENT ME A LOOK THAT SAID IT ALL: GIVE ME A compliment, and you’ll die a slow, miserable death. So I didn’t say a word about the absence of mottled green and brown in her outfit. I ignored her jeans, white T-shirt, and brand-new red Converse. We sat down at the round table and ate our lunch like everyone else in the cafeteria.

  As we discussed who had the worse student ID picture, I did my best to keep my eyes off Nora and Kade, who were falling all over each other at a table next to the salad bar. While I was busy trying to look somewhere else, I saw Richie emerge from the lunch line. I gestured for him to join us, but he sat alone. An island in a sea of kids. This was day three of my campaign to convince him to eat with us, and I wasn’t going to give up until graduation.

  When he walked by to leave the cafeteria, I called out his name. He glanced around, trained to seek out Kade.

  Zoe laughed. “It’s OK. We’re allowed to talk now.”

  Richie gave her a slim smile. We started walking down the hall together.

  “How have you been?” I asked him.

  “It’s not easy losing your best friend.”

  “You’ll have other best friends,” Zoe told him. “Better ones.”

  “Kade was just a dream, anyway. I woke myself up,” Richie said.

  Zoe didn’t have a clue what he meant, but I did. Kade Harlin was as elusive as cloud formations in the sky; as soon as you figured out the picture, it changed.

  At the lockers, kids rushed by us to get to class.

  “Is Mr. Reid back yet?” Richie asked.

  “I heard he’s coming back today,” Nora said, adding, “People think he’s been sick.”

  We knew what she meant. It was eerie, the silence. No emergency assemblies. No rumors. Even the two police officers were missing in action.

  We stood there, saying nothing, until Richie broke the silence. “So long, guys.”

  “So long,” I said.

  He opened his locker, took out his jacket, and walked away.

  “He doesn’t slouch anymore,” I observed.

  “That’s good,” Zoe said. “That’s real good.”

  I gathered my books in my arms, too tired to put them in my backpack, and headed to my last class of the day. I was halfway down the stairwell when he stepped in front of me.

  Mr. Reid.

  My breath lodged in my throat.

  “Hello, Charlotte.”

  It was good that he felt well enough to be at school. Bad that he knew my name.

  “Uh, hi.”

  He turned to give me a close-up view of his bruised profile. “Would you meet me in my office right away?”

  “Well, I have this—”

  “Take a seat. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  I nodded as he walked away.

  In the office, Mrs. Roach pointed to Mr. Reid’s door, then returned to a pile of forms. I walked in and sat down on the uncomfortable hard-backed chair in front of his desk. I wondered if I should take this moment to invent an alibi for prom night, but my brain felt paralyzed.

  “Ah, Charlotte Brody.” Mr. Reid edged past me to his desk. “I suppose you know why you’re here?”

  I shook my head.

  He pulled out an iPhone. The iPhone. “Someone was kind enough to polish off their prints and return this to my mailbox this morning.” He held it out at arm’s length in front of him. “Did you know the police were able to pick up a voice when the 911 call was made from Lowell’s Cemetery on the night of the prom?” His eyes shot to my face. “I think that voice was yours.”

  I swallowed hard, my mind shutting down. I couldn’t think of a response. What should I do? What should I say?

  “Why do you think it was me?” I asked after a moment.

  “Because I saw you talking to Kade Harlin. He seemed angry—maybe because he believed he had a traitor in his midst.”

  My hands, folded in my lap, were slick with sweat. I thought of Kade’s rule: No talking in school. He’d broken his own edict on Monday when he’d tried to convince me that I’d misinterpreted everything that had happened.

  “He’s a dangerous young man, Charlotte. I’ve been on his trail for years now because, frankly, I don’t want him at Kennedy High.”

  He wasn’t the only one. I also wanted Kade to go away, to someplace where he couldn’t hurt anyone else. “He’ll be gone soon,” I said. “It’s almost graduation.”

  “We both know he was behind my abduction, not to mention other unresolved incidents that have occurred at this school.” Mr. Reid leaned forward, hands steepled in front of him. “I don’t believe Kade and his girlfriend could cover them all.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend!” The denial flew out of my mouth with a force and passion that caught me off guard. I repeated it, softer, allowing the truth of it to sink in.

  “The 911 call picked up more than one voice, but the clarity was poor,” he said.

  If the reception had been so lousy, then he couldn’t really know it was me, I reasoned. All he had was a glimpse of Kade and me talking in the hall. But somehow that knowledge, though good for my situation, did nothing for my confidence.

  My eyes landed on a file on Mr. Reid’s desk, at least an inch thick. Kade’s name was written in tight script on the upper right-hand side. Mr. Reid caught me looking. He pulled it across the desk, positioning it in front of him. “Who else was there?” he demanded.

  Kade’s warning at the cemetery replayed in my head: If you tell anyone, we’ll all get in trouble.

  I won’t tell, I’d responded. I could never ruin Richie, Zoe, and Nora’s future.

  It was the truth. As much as I wanted to stop Kade, I couldn’t pull everyone else down. Kidnapping was a felony: the difference between jail time and living our lives as normal human beings. Zoe, the poster girl for hard knocks, didn’t deserve a kick to the curb from me. Then there was Richie, whose first act of courage was to ignore his best friend’s murderous demands. He needed a life, not a punishment. And Nora? I didn’t feel jealous if she was with Kade now. I was scared for her. I didn’t want to make her life any worse than it already was.

  Mr. Reid paced in front of the window, occasionally peering out at the empty running track. Then he twisted around and clamped his hands on the back of his leather chair. “Give me a list of names, and I’ll do everything in my power to lighten the consequences for you. You can trust me on this.”

  Don’t you trust me, Charlie? Kade had said.

  The word crawled up my back like a cockroach. “Trust has to be earned,” I said weakly.

  “All I have to offer you is my word.” Mr. Reid circled his chair and sat down. He waited for me to speak.

  I took a slow, deep breath. “Back in January, Kade invited a group of us to join this club. He told us it was for friendship, and we believed him. He led us everywhere, like … like the Pied Piper.” Dad used to read me the creepy fairy tale when I was little. It was actually one of the few books he could tolerate reading more than once. “The kids in that story were beyond stupid, following a stranger for no apparent reason. I mean, the Pied Piper just had a magic pipe. But they went with him, anyway. Never to be seen again.”

  Mr. Reid was sile
nt. He leaned back in his chair, thinking. “I understand, Charlotte. I truly do. Kade Harlin is a sociopath. Do you understand what that means?”

  I shook my head.

  “It means he lacks a conscience. He only cares about two things: winning and manipulating people to get what he wants.”

  Oh God. My hands trembled in my lap. I shoved them under me to stop them from shaking. How could such a simple definition fit a person who’d seemed so complex?

  “Charlotte, tell me what happened, or I’m afraid there could be serious consequences for you.”

  Kade’s words ran through my head: Until you know otherwise, treat threats like bluffs.

  I wanted to lie, to deny every last bit of it. After all, if Mr. Reid had the evidence he needed, he wouldn’t have dragged me into his office for an interrogation. But lying was what Kade would do, and I couldn’t let myself think like him. Not now. Not ever.

  I blinked to clear my vision. Tears spilled down the side of my nose. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, Mr. Reid.”

  He tapped his fingers on the file, giving away his impatience. “Do you know about Kade’s past? Do you have any idea what he’s done at this school? Once he gets out of here, he’ll move on with his life, full speed ahead. He’ll keep on hurting people.”

  “What did he do at Kennedy?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “The list is too long to review, but I’ll give you one example,” he said. “A teacher was working late when a male in a black ski mask chased her through the school. As I’m sure you can imagine, she was terrified.”

  “What happened to her?” I whispered.

  “He shoved her down some steps and she broke her wrist. The perpetrator stole something from her, but the police don’t believe that robbery was the motivation. They think he wanted to terrorize her.” He picked up a pen, twirling it through his fingers like a baton. “We kept it quiet to give her time to recover from the trauma, but she’d just lost a loved one, and I’m afraid it was too much for her. She made the unfortunate, but understandable, decision to leave teaching. And now one of our PE teachers has also given notice, in part because of what happened to Fran.”

  Fran … Fran Tutti? No, not my orchestra teacher …

  “Why would someone want to hurt a music teacher?” I asked, hoping he’d tell me that I’d made a mistake.

  “Music wasn’t the issue. She was a volunteer counselor who tried to address Kade’s truancy problems.”

  I glanced down at my fingernails. I’d peeled almost all the polish off. “So you think he did it?”

  Please, no. Don’t let it be true.

  “I know he did.” The spinning pen tripped over a finger and skidded across the desk. “However, I can’t prove it. My opinion of Mr. Harlin was hardly the evidence we needed in order to proceed. He’s slippery, and that’s the only reason he’s still here.” He walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Charlotte, can you see why I need you and your friends’ help?”

  I prayed he’d understand what I was about to say as I raised my eyes to his. “I didn’t know about your abduction before it happened. None of my friends did, either. You have no idea how much I want to tell you everything, but I can’t … I won’t.”

  A loud sound made us jump at the same time. I knew right away what it was, the same shrill call I’d heard the night we’d invaded the PE office. Mr. Reid’s face changed from sympathetic to furious. He waited through five blasts of the fire alarm before he spoke again. “I think you and I know this is a false alarm. Probably set off by a student at this school, if I had to venture. Someone who wants you out of this office, perhaps, before his cover can be blown.” Mr. Reid ran his hands down his suit, ironing out wrinkles that didn’t exist. “Think on what we’ve discussed here, Charlotte. In the meantime, I have to investigate that alarm, since it’s my job to keep the students at Kennedy safe.”

  He straightened his red-and-white tie and hurried out the door.

  THAT AFTERNOON, I FORCED MYSELF TO LOOK AT THE notebook on my lap. Facts and dates that would be on the history final swam upstream in my head. Without warning, my anger bubbled to the surface. I lunged for the mug that was sitting on the windowsill and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and broke in half. My hand swept across the desk, sending pens and pencils flying through the air like short-range missiles in search of a target. At last, I crumpled to the floor and buried my head in my arms.

  I guess we’d all considered ourselves losers before Kade Harlin had come on the scene. Nora, the smartest of us all, had turned out to have the least common sense. As for Richie, I had no doubt that Kade believed he was still out there, bobbing aimlessly at sea. A flick of the wrist, and he could reel his friend back in. And Zoe had been too busy taking care of her mother to watch out for herself.

  Then there was me. Sweet, lonely Charlotte. Another bullet point in Kade’s outline. Except that I’d turned out to be a surprise ending, and if there was one thing Kade Harlin didn’t like, it was surprises.

  As I cleaned up from my tantrum, I promised myself that I’d never be a pawn in someone’s game again. Reaching under the desk for my computer mouse, my fingers stumbled over a familiar object. Hard, cold, round. I yanked my hand back as if I’d touched a burner. I waited a moment, then scooped up the ring on a chain.

  FRANCES FOREVER, 1985.

  Mr. Reid’s words bounced around my head: She was a volunteer counselor who tried to address Kade’s truancy problems.

  The perpetrator stole something from her.

  The police didn’t believe robbery was the motivation. He wanted to terrorize her.

  It all made sense now. Kade had snapped the chain from Mrs. Tutti’s neck and stashed the ring in his shoebox. A symbol of victory. I uncurled my fist and stared at the evidence. Kade Harlin had done this one all on his own.

  Of course, if I turned Kade in, it might lead to more discoveries—discoveries that could reveal the League, but I couldn’t dwell on that part. I had to focus on the one, tiny piece of proof in my hand. I owed it to Mr. Reid. I owed it to people I hadn’t even met—those who would one day cross paths with Kade. He had to be stopped, no matter what.

  I put the necklace down on my mouse pad, turned on the computer, and started typing.

  Kade,

  I’m returning the ring you gave me. I know it’s Mrs. Tutti’s from the inscription. I hope you’ll give it back to her. No matter what she did to you, she deserves her memories.

  I printed it out, then taped the chain to the bottom of the note. The ring dropped down, jumping like oil in a skillet. Across the front of an envelope, I wrote “URGENT!” and slipped the letter inside.

  Kade wasn’t the only one with a plan.

  “AH, MISS BRODY,” MR. REID SAID WHEN I WALKED INTO HIS office at lunch the next day. “Are you here to confess something?”

  My stomach churned. “I’ve decided to help you.”

  I squeezed my hands together to stop them from shaking. I was risking everything—my relationship with my parents, the last vestige of friendship with Zoe and Richie, graduation. I hadn’t even allowed myself to think about the two police officers, Price and Henderson, who’d spent so much time at Kennedy that they’d practically been added to the payroll. If I did, it would be even harder to go through with it.

  “I have something for you.” Before school, I’d fingered the wedding ring one last time, running my pinkie around its smooth interior, the inscription worn down from years of wear. The ring was a symbol of eternal union, something precious that Kade had no right to take. “It’s the proof you need. Not for everything he’s done. But it’s enough.”

  Mr. Reid straightened in his chair, waiting for me to explain.

  “I want Mrs. Tutti to get her husband’s wedding ring back,” I said. “She didn’t deserve any of this. No one did.”

  “How’d you get …?”

  “Kade gave it to me after the fact. His warped idea of a present.”

  Mr. Reid tug
ged on the collar of his starched white shirt. “May I see it?”

  “It’s in Kade’s locker. He’ll stop there after lunch. I put it in an envelope with a letter. When he opens it, the ring will drop down. Anyone who’s walking by will see it.”

  He cast his eyes to the ceiling. It was several seconds before he spoke. “I’ve wanted to catch Kade for a long time. I think the ring will serve that purpose. Thank you, Charlotte.”

  Guilt, pain, sorrow, grief—they’d hardened to stones and lodged in my heart. But here was a new feeling, rushing to the surface—gratitude.

  “Thank you, Mr. Reid,” I whispered.

  He glanced at the clock over the door. Twenty minutes left until the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. He rose to his feet, the way people do when they want you to leave, and unhooked his walkie-talkie from his belt.

  “Mrs. Roach, please cancel my appointment with the vice president of the PTA.” He switched it off and looked at me. “When I’m done, Mr. Harlin will have only me to blame.”

  He gave my shoulder a single pat as he passed by. I followed him to the door of the school office. We shook hands, a secret deal sealed between us.

  Twelve minutes later, Mr. Reid left the office. As he turned the corner toward the hallway, I slipped into the crowd behind him.

  MR. REID HID BEHIND A CEMENT POST. I DOVE BEHIND A trash can, careful to stay out of everyone’s view.

  And then I saw the shiny peaks of hair. Kade, at his locker, spinning the combination lock. Mr. Reid pulled the walkie-talkie free, his forehead lined in concentration.

  When Kade opened the locker, the letter I’d inserted through the vents fluttered to the ground. He pulled a tube of hair gel from the upper shelf, then peered into a small mirror he’d taped to the inside door. The envelope was anchored under his left heel. He didn’t even glance at it. Had he missed it? No, this was Kade Harlin. He saw everything.

  Within seconds, another spike was born. At last, he bent down to pick up the envelope. The word URGENT shouted across the hall at me, but Kade ignored it, pocketing the letter.

 

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