by C. C. Bolick
“That’s not good,” Bailey said. “That’s great!” She looked at me and Rachelle. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe all guys aren’t idiots.”
“No,” Angel said, “you were right. Guys are idiots.”
Bailey held up her hands. “What are you talking about? He totally respected you.”
“He said I wasn’t old enough yet. He said he wants to go to college and if he gets me pregnant then…well, let’s just say it won’t fit his plan.”
“He made sense,” Bailey said. “You took it the wrong way.”
“Don’t you get it?” Angel grabbed her bag and stood. “He doesn’t care about me.” She turned to me. “I don’t know why you’re worried. Pade didn’t come back to Credence until August. Tosh’s baby can’t possibly be his, if she’s really pregnant.” Pushing through the crowd, Angel headed for the doors.
She was right. I tried to calm my stomach. Pade loved me. He wouldn’t mess with Tosh. He was with me in the hospital. We’d talked, he’d helped me recover. He didn’t go back to Credence until I did, he…the thought failed as I looked at Rachelle. She sat in silence, staring at the table.
I remembered the call Pade got in July, when he rushed from the hospital to see Tosh.
Bailey watched me. “Did I miss something?”
“He came back to Credence in July,” I said. “I overheard him on the phone with Tosh.”
“She’s right,” Rachelle said.
“Look,” Bailey said to me, “Pade loves you. Tosh has some drama I can’t discuss right now, but it isn’t with my brother. You can’t possibly think…”
“What if I do?”
Bailey stood. “Then you’re not the person I thought.”
* * * * *
On Friday morning, a man with twill pants and a blue silk shirt stood before the board in Mrs. Austen’s class. He scribbled Mr. Jones and tossed the chalk in the tray. “Didn’t think we still had chalkboards,” he mumbled as I walked by.
I sat in my usual seat, but no one sat beside me. Joe has to be here, I thought as I stared at the black binder. The late bell rang, but still no Joe. About halfway through class, curiosity won and I reached for the binder. I opened to the single page.
Jes, keep this with you always. If you ever find trouble you can’t survive, press the stone.
I will return.
Below the words sat a golden K, about the size of a quarter. In the center was a green stone that glimmered no matter how I angled the page, almost pulsing like a heart. I pulled the charm from the page, surprised that no tape or glue held it to the paper. Had Chase left the charm for me? The K must be for Kayden. My fingers tingled as I traced the edges. Excitement welled inside of me.
I put the binder back on Joe’s desk. Grinning, I loosened the gold chain around my neck and slid on the charm. Tucking it back under the neck of my shirt, the metal felt cold against my skin. Looking to my side, a sense of loneliness overtook me. The binder was gone.
Rachelle stood by the door after class.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Looks like you’re about to cry.”
Okay, time for a distraction. “I just need to see Joe again. He borrowed my…history book.” I cringed, for my voice sounded like a lie about a lie.
“Who’s Joe?” Rachelle asked as she followed me down the hall.
So much for a distraction. “The guy I’ve been sitting next to since class started. Well, except for that day I moved across the room.”
“I remember—you were talking to yourself. Everyone was whispering because you were…louder than normal.”
I turned so fast I nearly tripped. “What do you mean, louder than normal?”
She looked down the hall. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve been talking to yourself since school started. Everyone thinks it’s a side effect of your coma.”
“Every morning I sit next to Joe…”
Her eyes shifted back to me. “Joe who?”
I thought for a moment. “He never told me his last name, but he’s got brown hair and huge arms—maybe he’s a wrestler. And his skin is super tan.”
She laughed softly. “Jes, you sit at the back of the room, by yourself. You always choose the same desk, but no one sits to either side.”
My voice seemed stuck in my throat. “He—he’s real. I swear. Joe sits next to me every day.”
Rachelle touched my arm. “It’s okay if you feel weird sometimes. I asked my mom about it, and she’s sure there’s nothing wrong with you. Maybe you should tell your parents.”
“What about Mrs. Austen? Did I imagine her too?”
“No. She was filling in until Mr. Jones came back from surgery. Didn’t you hear what he said when class started?”
My only thoughts had been focused on the binder. “You don’t believe me about Joe?”
“Buff guy, dark skin—I bet he’s cute.”
“Yeah,” I said, as my stomach sank.
“Even if he’s not my type, I would have noticed a guy sitting next to you.”
“I can’t believe this,” I whispered. Joe had been real. Surely someone had seen him, called his name. I replayed our mornings of silence, along with the few times we talked and seemed to be okay. Mrs. Austen never called his name, and now she was gone. The night Chase and Mrs. Pearson left flashed through my head. Was it happening all over again?
Ronald had seen Joe. Not only seen him, but accused him of stopping the drink mid-air in the hall. I could ask Ronald.
No, I couldn’t. Ronald had been avoiding me for days. He thought I was a freak.
Maybe he was right.
“Don’t worry, Jes,” Rachelle said. “I’ll keep your secret.”
Another secret? Just what I needed.
* * * * *
The stadium was already overflowing by the time Pade pulled into the parking lot, and the only remaining spots were across the street, behind the track. I put on my jacket, despite the fact the September air felt more like July.
Bailey struggled to keep up with Pade. “You shouldn’t put yourself through this.”
“It’s not about me,” Pade said. “This is about the team and I want to see Credence win, even if I can’t play.”
I climbed the steps behind him, still unable to ask about Tosh. Bailey hadn’t said a word, but I knew her silence wouldn’t last forever. Even though my feet ached after the long walk, I didn’t ask to stop. I’d follow Pade all the way to the top if necessary.
Pade stared straight ahead as people jeered. Bailey shook her fist at a guy who tried to trip Pade, but he didn’t seem to notice. About three rows from the top, Pade chose an empty row, scooting over for us to sit down.
“We should have gone to the movies,” Bailey said, sitting to his other side.
I could feel the anger radiating from my friend. “Like last week?” I asked.
“No one went to the movies last week.” Her words weren’t playful in the least as she stretched her neck to see the players line up. “Is that the new Q.B.?”
“Brandon Lake,” Pade said. “He’s a sophomore, but he has potential.”
I looked at Pade, stunned. “You’ve gone to practice?”
“Haven’t missed one,” he said. “I told you, this isn’t about me.”
Bailey slapped Pade on the back. “My brother’s been teaching Brandon all his secrets.”
“Terrance isn’t fine with it, but Coach has finally given up on convincing me to play.”
Cheers rose as Brandon threw a twenty-yard pass to Terrance, but two plays later Terrance grabbed the ball only to be slammed to the ground. Pade jumped to his feet as two guys from the other team piled on top of Terrance.
“Face mask! That was a hard hit,” he said, concern in his eyes, but relaxed when Terrance stood.
“I hope he’s okay,” I said.
Bailey cheered as Terrance lined up again. “He’s always been tough.”
Eventually the ball turned over, leaving Credence on defense. Back and forth, the ball zigza
gged down the field, more times than I’d been late for Mom’s class. Still, no one scored.
With one minute on the clock, Credence lost the ball, leaving a tide of moans across the seats. Closer, the other team made it to the ten-yard line. Surely it would be over soon. If not a touchdown, they’d kick a field goal. I reached for Pade’s hand.
Pade squeezed my fingers and put his arm around my neck. The ball was snapped, the quarterback caught it, winding up to pass…but slipped and fell as the ball landed in the hands of a Credence jersey. Our player dodged two hits, gripping the ball as he was shoved out of bounds.
“We’ve got it,” Bailey squealed.
Time was almost gone. In the next play, Brandon threw the ball and it soared down the field, into…Terrance’s hands. Terrance had the ball. Terrance was running.
Pade gripped my shoulders. Bailey bounced up and down, screaming. Everyone around us stood as Terrance crossed the line and scored.
“Oh my god,” Bailey said, “we won.”
“No thanks to Sanders,” someone said, but I didn’t bother trying to find the voice.
Next to me Pade smiled as if he stood on the field.
* * * * *
That night I left my window open, despite the fact the air was on. The breeze drifting through the screen felt like a sticky summer night, even in September. But I needed heat. The world around me had turned cold. Dad had returned from Atlanta, but didn’t seem thrilled about how the tests went. And I couldn’t stop thinking about Pade.
Turning, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Eleven forty-five. I needed to sleep, although time was running out. Tomorrow would be a morning filled with yawns. I’d have to sneak a soda from the fridge before leaving.
A chattering sounded from beyond the window, but I stayed in bed, too lazy to get up and check out what was probably no more than a squirrel on a nearby branch. The chattering came again and then a voice.
I sat straight up. Someone was outside my window. I scrambled from the bed, kneeling in front of the window. A hooded figure moved in the shadows.
“Chase,” I whispered, catching my breath. Had he finally decided to come back for me? Happiness surged inside of me, for he was the only one with a reason to sneak around my house.
“Chase,” I said against the screen. He didn’t seem to notice me as he circled to the front of the house. Was he really going to use the front door?
Easing down the stairs, I nearly crawled until I reached the living room. The carpet was a dark path before me, dotted at the edges with moonlight spilling from the windows. A light darted outside one of the windows, shining a narrow beam near my face. I jumped back into the safety of darkness.
Muffled voices sounded, but instead of the front door, the beacons of light outside seemed to be moving toward the rear of the house. I tiptoed to the kitchen door and carefully pushed it open.
The kitchen was like a dungeon, bathed in darkness. I couldn’t make out the bar or the table or even the porch door. It was as if every window in the room had been covered with a blanket. I couldn’t see the gaps in the blinds. Light from the moon should be bursting though, forming a ladder of silver lines across the floor.
My racing heart nearly stopped when the door handle clicked. Someone was coming in. I turned, fearful of who might be on the other side. Chase wouldn’t use the door—he’d simply zap himself inside. This felt wrong. I closed my eyes, imagining myself back upstairs, but I opened them to the same darkness. How had I made my power work in the woods?
I needed to get out. I backed against the door to the living room. No, it was the wall I felt behind me. I reached along the wall, desperate for my escape. The porch door moved. Footsteps sounded in the kitchen. My eyes barely made out faint light that outlined the door. I opened my mouth, but couldn’t scream. I needed to wake Mom and Dad.
The light above flipped on and Mom stood in the room’s center. Her hair danced wildly around her head and the cotton nightgown almost reached her feet. At five feet and barely one hundred and twenty pounds, I’d never considered her dangerous. But her eyes gleamed with a determination that scared me. Her only focus was the shotgun in her hands and the masked figure who knelt before her.
“Take off the mask. Slowly,” she warned as she moved closer.
I held my breath as the mask came off, but it wasn’t Chase.
“Who are you?” Mom demanded.
“You know me,” the guy squeaked.
“That’s not what I mean,” she said, shoving the gun at his nose.
“Holy shit—it’s me, Ronald Pitts. I’m in your pre-cal class. First block!”
Mom tightened her grip on the gun. “Who are you really?”
Tears spilled from Ronald’s eyes as his face twisted in horror. “Ronald. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Why are you in my kitchen?” Mom asked, her voice deadly.
“It was supposed to be a joke. We were going to scare Jes.”
I heard a noise and turned to my left.
Dad stood at the light switch. He put a finger to his lips and moved to Mom’s side, placing a hand on her arm. “Lorraine, put the gun down. I think this is one for the police.”
“No,” Mom said, pressing the gun against Ronald’s forehead. “Tell me the truth.”
Ronald’s voice shook. “Weird things have been happening at school—stuff moving by itself.”
Dad looked at me and then back down at Ronald. “Go on,” he said.
“She’s a freak,” Ronald said in agony and covered his face. “Are you all freaks like her?”
“Ronald,” Mom said and lowered the gun, “are you on something?”
“No. Maybe.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I think I’m going crazy. The doc adjusted my meds, but nothing seems to help.”
Mom let out a nervous laugh and took a step back.
“Get up,” Dad said. “Call you parents.” He turned to me. “Jes, go to the living room.”
As I sank into the sofa, I wondered where to begin. What would Dad want to know? What kinds of questions would he ask after seeing Ronald on our kitchen floor?
I watched as the clock passed the ten-minute mark. A car pulled up in front of the house. A knock sounded at the door. To my surprise, Dr. Greene stepped through after Dad opened the door. A woman followed.
Dr. Greene shook Dad’s hand. “This is Ronald’s mother, Catherine Pitts.”
Her hand trembled as Dad closed his around it. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but Ronald and I shall have a long talk.”
“I’m not sure either,” Dad said.
“Joel,” Mom said as she crossed the room. “He’s in the kitchen crying his eyes out.”
“Good,” Dr. Greene said. “Thanks for not pressing charges.”
Mom looked at the woman close to tears herself. “I’m not sure what’s going on between the kids, but it doesn’t seem that Ronald planned to hurt anyone. We’ve all done stupid stuff.”
Ronald’s mom eyed the gun leaning against the recliner. “Is that loaded?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Of course,” Mom said. She ushered Ronald’s mom into the kitchen, with Dr. Greene close behind.
Dad sat on the couch. “Do you have any idea what Ronald was talking about?”
“Last year he picked on me at school. Now he’s mad because I turned him in for pulling the fire alarm.”
“What about the ‘stuff moving by itself’?”
“I don’t know, Dad, it sounds like something out of a movie.”
He gave me a critical stare. “You’re sure nothing weird has happened?”
Where should I start? “I’m sure.”
Dad sighed. “Maybe Ronald just needed a reality check.”
Maybe Ronald wasn’t the only one.
More Trouble
“Crazy night,” Bailey said as she opened her front door. “I knew Ronald was mad at you, but I never thought he’d do something so stupid to get back at you. He must really
belong in the psych ward.”
“He’s on meds,” I said, determined to dodge all questions. I didn’t want to stumble across a discussion about Chase, and no way could I tell her about my face-off with Ronald in the hall. Crossing the living room, I went straight for the couch.
Pade chose the spot next to me, handing me a drink as he sat down. Since Bailey sat to my other side, I quickly felt the walls closing in. The TV showed commercials on every channel as Pade hit the buttons, eventually turning off the TV and tossing the remote on the table before us.
“Bailey told me what you said at lunch.”
My thoughts had been so focused on Ronald, I’d forgotten about Tosh. I shivered at the precision in his voice.
“I was upset.” Pade grasped my chin, turning my face so my eyes had no place to land but on his. “I’m only going to say this one time, so I want to make sure you understand.”
I tried to nod, but he didn’t release my chin.
“I’ve never been with anyone.”
“But Tosh…” I said.
He laughed bitterly and released my chin. Leaning forward, Pade dropped his head into his hands. After shaking his head and muttering under his breath, he turned to me. “Okay, let me take that back. I’ll say it once more. I’ve. Never. Been. With. Anyone. That includes Tosh, so there’s no way she’s having my baby.”
I sighed, filled by the pain in his words, but also a new hope radiating from my heart. Pade and I still had a chance. “Why are you telling me this?”
“So maybe you’ll understand why people seem to think she is.” He looked down at his hands and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “It’s all so stupid. Not the part about what happened to Tosh, but the rumors. Let’s start with July. When you were in the hospital, Tosh called and said she needed a ride. I knew it was bad—that’s why I came. I just didn’t realize she was being abused.”
The word caught in my throat. “Abused?”
“No one knows for sure if she was actually abused,” Bailey said. “Her story has already changed at least three times.”
