She stared at me, tears in her eyes. “Why not? That’s all I am, right? A show for the boys?”
“Then report it. Do it. Tell the chancellor, and tell him I was there.”
She clenched her teeth.
“You won’t, will you?”
“I can’t.”
“I know. You can’t report it for the same reason I had to sit there and watch it. But I didn’t want to.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Liar.”
Anger welled in my chest. I took a breath. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize. That’s all. I’m sorry it happened.”
Her face tightened. “Apology not accepted.” Then she turned on her heel.
“Brooke.”
She turned. “What?”
“You could have walked out just as easily as me.”
After that, she stared at me for a moment, rage and shame at the truth of what I’d said in her eyes, then turned and walked away.
CHAPTER FIVE
“SINGLETARY, THOMAS,” Coach Yount called. “Cut.” Then he moved on to the next name. Most of the freshmen were going down in flames.
Kennedy laughed under his breath, nudging me. “That was a no-brainer. The guy can play tennis like your mother has kids. Fucked up and retarded.”
“Don’t you ever get sick of hearing your own voice, Kennedy? I’d kill myself if I was you.”
“I’m crying inside, Weatherby. You wound me.”
“I’m sure I do.”
He grinned. “Chamber meeting today at four. Be there or be an idiot.”
I shuddered inside. The last two days had been spent agonizing over the kid and what I should do. I didn’t like admitting it one bit, but Carter Logan scared me. He could hurt me, because he could hurt my father, and I was trapped.
I’d studied the kid’s file, and it wasn’t good. None of it. His father had been killed by a drunk driver two years ago; his mother checked out groceries at Walmart in the Heights, and her annual income was a little over twenty thousand dollars. My father spent twenty thousand last year on having the pool retiled.
As I read deeper into his file, I reached his academic reports. Elvis had nothing on this kid. He wasn’t gifted in a subject; he was gifted in every subject. His IQ was off the charts, and as I read his test scores, I realized he wasn’t some sort of idiot savant with a chance to find a niche somewhere; he was a kid walking around with more brainpower than entire countries. He’d scored in the top one percent in all subjects.
Then I got to his police record.
Three stints in juvie for aggravated assault, two misdemeanor theft charges (dismissed), vandalism, and one felony charge for tampering with an Internet server. Of all things, the tampering charge had to do with hacking into federal courthouse files. He was a hacker, and for how innocent the kid looked, he wasn’t.
I couldn’t do it, though. No matter how bad he was, he hadn’t done anything to me. But I didn’t see a way out of it. As we filed from the tennis courts, I fell in line beside him. I was fully a head taller than him. “Has Kennedy bugged you at all?”
He didn’t answer.
“Don’t talk much, huh?”
“Not to people at this school.”
“Why are you here, then?”
“None of your business.”
“He’s got it out for you.”
He gave nothing away, this small, skinny kid. No emotion. “I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
I stopped, grabbing his shoulder. “Do you not understand this? I’m trying to help you here, and you’re being a prick about it. You’re in trouble, Thomas. You shouldn’t have pissed on his stuff.”
He snapped his shoulder away. “Don’t touch me.”
The look in his eyes reminded me of his file. Aggravated assault. “I’m trying to give you a break.”
His face finally broke, but it wasn’t fear or anger or anything. It was a smile. A genuine and easy smile. “What makes you think I need help with anything?”
“What, you think you’re tough or something? Kennedy likes pain.”
His eyes met mine. The smile was still on his face, and his voice came soft. “Don’t you have bigger problems to deal with?”
“Than what?” I shrugged. “You’re the new frosh meat is all, and you’re making things easier.”
“For who?”
“Kennedy.”
He looked away.
I shook my head. “Fine, man. I don’t give a crap, anyway. I was just trying to do you a favor.”
He laughed. “Want some advice, rich boy?”
“What?”
“Fuck off.”
“So you’re the poor kid in a school full of rich pricks. Too bad for you.”
He shrugged. “Go make yourself feel good on somebody else.”
“You’re an ass, you know that? I didn’t do anything to you.”
He met my eyes, and there was no backing down in them. “Fine. Now that we’re in agreement, maybe you should just go back to your little club, huh?”
“What club? The Chamber?”
He smiled again. “You enjoyed the show?”
I furrowed my brow, not understanding, but Brooke instantly came to mind. He couldn’t know about that. Nobody could, unless one of us had talked. Carter came to mind, and I wondered what kind of game he was playing. “What show?”
“The tennis show.”
I studied his face. He was like a book with no words in it. “Whatever. Eat shit, Singletary. You deserve what you get.”
Lunch rolled around, and Elvis rolled around with it, bobbing his head and smiling like a big goof. He had a habit of avoiding the tile lines on the floor, which made walking with him feel like I was watching a guy play hopscotch. “Hey, Jason. Guess what?”
“What?”
He grinned, showing big teeth as he shortened a step to miss a line. “I got a meeting today.”
“With who?”
He slapped me on the back. “You. The Chamber. Carter sent me a note. Today at four. And you know what? I think I’m being accepted.”
“How’s that?”
“Because the logical conclusion would be that, Jason. Why would they call me in, otherwise? Besides, the note congratulated me on being selected to appear before them. It said that I should thank you, too, so thank you.”
My mind was on Thomas. “Cool.”
“You’ll be there?”
“I suppose so.”
He smiled, clapping me on the shoulder. “To success, my friend. To success.” Then he was gone, whistling down the hall, happy as a side-stepping, hopscotching clam.
I walked into the Chamber, and the five high-backed chairs were set up in a row, the table gone and an empty space in front. Kennedy, Woodsie, and Steven sat, and Carter was nowhere to be found. Woodsie nodded. “Weatherby.”
“Hey, Woodsie.” I nodded to Steven, who nodded back.
Kennedy smiled. “No greeting for me, brother?”
I smiled back, sitting. “Hello, asswipe.”
Kennedy laughed. “I like you, Weatherby, but I like your mother better. Total MILF.” He smiled again. “Are they natural?”
I ignored him. “Why are the chairs like this?”
Woodsie took a piece of gum from his pocket. “Interview today. Your buddy, I think.”
Kennedy smirked. “That Presley guy? What is the world coming to? The guy is like the son of his brother’s mother’s sister or some freaky shit like that. You can tell a guy is inbred by the eyes. Close together and screwy.”
I turned to Kennedy, squinting at him. “I know your family has money, but come on. It’s like buying your dog into Lambert and expecting him to learn anything other than to lick his balls and shit in the backyard.”
Kennedy guffawed. “That’s why I like you, man. Sincerely. I do. But I’m a rich dog.”
Woodsie laughed. “Goes to show you, Weatherby. You can beat the shit out of a dog, but you can’t make the
dog stop eating shit.”
Kennedy rolled his eyes. “You think he won that verbal sparring match, Woods? I killed him. The inbred joke was way better than the lame dog thing.”
Woodsie laughed again.
Kennedy shrugged. “Fine, then. We’ll leave it to Steven.” He looked to Steven. “All right, Lotus, who won? Me or pukehead?”
He took a breath. “I don’t know.”
Kennedy furrowed his brow. “Are you still all sensitive about the whore thing, Steve-o? Come on, we’re all whores, just like Carter said. You’re just better at it than most.”
Steven sank into his chair, staring at the door.
Kennedy rolled his eyes again, slouching back into his seat. “I meant that in a good way, man. I did. In fact, you sort of turned me on when you had your shirt off. All tingly down under.” He laughed, and just then Carter walked in, shutting the door behind him.
He held a file and whistled a nameless tune as he walked over. “Hello, brothers.” Nods and handshakes, then Carter took his seat in the center of the row, beside me. “Business on the agenda today, men. An interview for the last spot in the Youth Leadership Group, but we’ve a decision to make before this interview takes place.” He crossed his ankle over his knee and fiddled with his shoelace. “As you all know, the Lambert school elections will be held in two weeks for the general-population student council.…” He waved it off. “I know they’re lame duck, but we can’t allow the wrong people to take positions, particularly the student-body president, vice president, and treasurer. Of the six positions, we need at least four to own a majority vote on policy, particularly budget. I’ve already spoken to three Leadership Group members who will run, and of course we’ll win, but as for the president, we need a member of the five in power to have absolute assurances. One of us.” He looked at Steven. “You will be running for president.”
Kennedy laughed. “What? The guy can’t even tie his shoes without a maid, and you want him to be student-body president?”
Steven slumped further in his chair.
Carter nodded. “Steven will be perfect for the position, Kennedy.” He looked over at him. “Would you prefer to run?”
Kennedy shrugged. “Well, yeah. At least, we’d have—”
Carter interrupted. “The Chamber can exert its will at this school, Kennedy, but only to a certain extent. I’m afraid you are too much of an asshole to win. Everybody hates you. Even with the Group backing you, we’d have to resort to violence, which I hate. Steven will be running.”
I shook my head. “I thought you said we had to make the decision, Carter.”
He smiled. “We did.”
“No, you did. And not that I agree with Kennedy, but Steven doesn’t exactly have the charisma needed.” I looked at Steven. “Not bagging on you, Steve, but you don’t seem too excited.”
He shrugged. I was beginning to wonder if an intelligent conversation with the guy would consist of more than two words.
Carter smiled. “I’ll take that as an affirmative shrug. Congratulations, Steven.” He looked at the file on his lap. “Now, on to the interview.”
I wouldn’t back down. “What about Woodsie? He’s a natural for it.”
Carter frowned. “Steven will do an excellent job because he understands our mission.”
I rolled my eyes. “In other words, he’ll do what you tell him.”
Carter raised his eyebrows, cocking an eye at me. “Very good, Jason. You’re already getting the hang of things. Now, on to our guest.” He took a file from a folder. “Mr. Presley.” He looked up at me. “You happen to be friends with this student?”
I nodded. “He’s got a chance at a prestigious program, and scholarship, if he makes it in. It’s important.”
Kennedy groaned. “An inbred Elvis impersonator.”
Carter winked at me, tapping the file. “Actually, a very impressive record, and an absolute asset to the scientific community. Brilliant in math, right, Jason?”
“Yes.”
Carter nodded at the file. “You recommended him, correct?”
“Yes.”
A moment passed as we waited. He leaned toward me. “So have you thought about your assignment, Jason?”
“Still thinking.”
His voice slid through the room smooth and easy. Comforting. “Very good. Some things need deliberation. I thought this interview would be appropriate to show you how the Chamber can work with you in the same way that you work with us.”
I relaxed a bit, but I knew that with Carter, the first mistake was to let your guard down. “Thanks. He is smart, and there’s no way he could get in without the Chamber.”
“That’s what we’re here for. To help each other.”
Kennedy cut in. “Dude, have you seen the guy walk? I think he’s got some disorder or something.”
“He skips lines. It’s a thing with him,” I said.
Kennedy laughed. “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.”
Carter laid his hands on the table. “Kennedy, are you finished showing everybody here what happens when the wrong people have children?”
Just then Elvis knocked on the door. Carter called out, “Enter.”
The door opened, and Elvis, his hair combed for once, sharply parted, walked in. He’d pressed his slacks and wore his formal blazer, with a kerchief in the breast pocket. He nodded, closing the door behind him, and smiled. “Hi.”
Carter gestured to him. “Welcome, Mr. Presley. Come in.”
Elvis walked to the center of the room, looking around. “Should I get a chair?”
Carter studied the file. “You may stand.”
“Sure.”
Carter closed the file, looking up and smiling. He crossed his knee over his leg. “Membership in the Group is important to you, yes?”
“Yes. I’ve a chance at being accepted to the Pilkney Foundation for math and science. One of the most prestigious in the world.” He smiled, his teeth huge and white. “It’s hard to get in to.”
Carter went on. “And what do you plan on doing once you’ve attended?”
He beamed. “Quantum physics, nanotechnology, and—”
Carter tapped a pen on the file. “Mr. Presley, what does your father think about it?”
He smiled wide. “He’s happy that I have a chance to—”
“What does he do?” Carter looked at the file. “Oh, yes. He works for the parks department, right?”
“Yes, he does. For over twenty-five years.”
“Wonderful. We need people like that. Gardeners and such. Does he carry around a trash bag and one of those poker things to pick up litter? I’ve seen them do that, you know, and I just hate people who litter. Especially in our nice parks.” He paused. “We pay taxes for those things, and we pay men like your father to serve us. Did he go to trash-picking-up school?”
Elvis faltered. “Well, he …”
I clenched my teeth, leaning toward Carter. “That’s enough, Carter.”
He waved me off. “I’m sure he’s a good little worker, Mr. Presley. Does he wear a uniform? Like a janitor? With the keys jangling on his belt? When I was a child, I was fascinated by those men. I’d drop things just to watch them pick it up.”
A sheen of sweat glowed on Elvis’s forehead, and his eyes flicked to me. “I … he is very supportive of me. Yes. He is.”
Carter chuckled. “No worries here, Mr. Presley. I can see you are ashamed of him, and I understand. It’s not your fault, is it? It’s just fascinating to me that here you are, at this school, and your father is picking up other people’s trash for a living. That is America at its best, yes?” He stared at Elvis. “My dad used to give our caretaker a turkey at Christmas for doing such a good job. Does your father get turkeys?” Carter looked around. “Maybe we should send him a turkey. Yes. Let’s send him a turkey for doing such a good job. My father always taught me that a simple man likes simple things.”
Elvis sniffed, blinking, his eyes on Carter. “I’m sorry, but wha
t does my father have to do with …” He glanced at me, then back to Carter. “Carter, I thought I was coming here to—”
Carter snapped, quick and vicious, “Call me sir.”
Elvis looked down. “Sir.”
I stood. “Knock it off, Carter.”
Carter smiled, ignoring me. “Mr. Presley, you are a freak. A bizarre, genetic malfunction, and I can’t understand for the life of me what made you think that you could ever, ever be in the Youth Leadership Group.” He folded his hands on his lap. “Application denied. Get out.”
Elvis looked up, his face wracked and broken, like he’d been flayed alive for something he didn’t understand. “But the note said …”
I turned to Elvis. “Get out, Elvis. Right now.”
He stood still.
“GO!” I barked. He left. I turned to Carter, grabbing his shirt and smashing him into the chair. “I should beat the living shit out of you for that, you …”
He smiled, calm as a Sunday morning. “Have you made your decision about the file yet, Jason? It would be good if you did so. I hate indecision. It’s irritating.”
I leaned close, releasing him, then put my hands on the armrests. “That’s what this was about, huh? Helping me make my decision? The brotherhood? Destroying somebody who doesn’t deserve to be destroyed? All about me, huh?”
Carter’s obsidian eyes bored into me. “Yes, Jason. That is what this is about. Sacrifice. And perhaps you should think about what might happen next if you don’t make the right decision.”
I stared into those eyes for a moment, my entire body aching to break him in half. I realized then that this wasn’t about the Chamber. This was about power. About him. This was about Carter Logan breaking me in half, and I didn’t know why. “You put him in the Group, leave him alone, write his letter of recommendation, and I’ll do it. That’s the deal. No other way.”
He grinned. “A deal has been made. I will contact him personally, apologize for my insensitive remarks, and let him know he is now a member.” With his eyes still on mine and our faces inches apart, a moment passed. “Would you mind taking your face away from me, Jason? I’m uncomfortable with us being this close, and I’d hate to have Kennedy hurt you.”
The Chamber of Five Page 4
