Meanwhile, Mortinelli and some of the Fanboys still clambered over Smitty, who was standing again and swinging them from his arms like King Kong trying to break out of chains.
The guys crushing Davidek were getting bored with his lack of resistance, so they began to peel off and join the crowd around Smitty, the only one with any fight left. It was eleven against one. Smitty’s voice was hoarse, and spittle flecked from his mouth as he raised a finger, pointing toward Davidek, who had flattened himself against the wall, trying to find an opening to pull Stein out of his stomping. “Lay offa me,” Smitty said. “Let’s get him instead.”
Davidek started to run.
Smitty surged after his fellow freshman, leading the handful of seniors who had just been pulverizing him. They dodged through the parking spaces, weaving between the parked cars and onlookers watching the brawl. Behind them, Stein’s attackers had fled to join the chase, and he was staggering to his feet, swinging his arms at nothing, like a man besieged by bees.
Davidek dashed into the school bus, which was where Smitty and the other pursuers stopped, like vampires at the threshold of a church. The driver, a leathery, straw-haired woman with an ashtray voice, told them to clear away from her damned door.
The other kids on the bus were cheering—but for the guys outside. They made buck-buck chicken noises at Davidek as he slid into an empty seat.
Smitty smirked as he paced outside the windows of the bus, flanked by his new senior pals. “So they made you their bitch, huh?” Davidek said, his voice muffled by the pane between them.
Smitty laughed and brought his face close enough to steam the glass: “Better to be on top of the pile, I think.”
“And bully your own kind?” Davidek spat back.
Smitty’s smile broadened as he backed away, his arms raised in a what-are-you-going-to-do shrug. “Everybody is somebody’s bully,” he said.
Behind Davidek, a sinister-looking upperclassman girl with raven black hair sneered, “Pussy.” The freshman peered at her, squinting.
“What are you looking at?” she demanded.
Davidek shook his head. “Nothing.” Her eyes were both the same color.
* * *
Smitty walked back to get his bag and saw Stein wandering away from the site of his beat down, his blazer ripped at the shoulder, his clip-on tie torn off and hanging in the fist of his right hand. He had black grit stamped into his face and a couple bleeding scratches on his forehead. He sat on the sidewalk curb, waiting for his sister to arrive and pick him up.
Smitty loomed over him, his white shirtsleeves rolled up to show off bulging arms. “You sure you got what it takes to finish all the fights you start?’”
“Yeah,” Stein said, wiping his mouth. “So, you one of them now?”
Smitty shrugged. “Guess so.”
Stein nodded. “Then I’ll finish you, too.”
SEVENTEEN
On the last day before Thanksgiving vacation, classes were always suspended for the Turkey Bowl, an annual touch-football game held out on the old church field with the seniors and juniors facing off against the sophomores and freshmen. It wasn’t part of the hazing ritual, but this year, those hostilities had infected everything. Mankowski and Zimmer were the referees and had been instructed to eject anyone who got too violent. Sister Maria herself was watching from the sidelines, along with most of the rest of the school. Father Mercedes wasn’t around, but Ms. Bromine was, and she planned to report back to him.
Davidek was useless at sports—particularly football—but he showed up to play because LeRose said it would be a good way to ingratiate himself. Green warned Stein not to come, since he’d heard the older kids were hungry for an excuse to “accidentally” smash him into the semi-frozen ground. Stein had said maybe he’d show up anyway if they wanted a fight, then didn’t even come to school that morning.
At least two hundred spectators lined the field under a linty sky that made the sun a dim silver dollar. LeRose watched the game perched on the hood of his Mustang—he’d just gotten his license that weekend, and he wore a lemon yellow nylon workout suit with a Pittsburgh Steelers emblem stitched onto the back.
Davidek had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue SEMPER FI T-shirt his brother had once sent to him. Davidek liked wearing it, remembering Charlie, though it annoyed his parents, who said it just drew attention to what a coward he was. But no one at St. Mike’s ever mentioned Davidek’s brother, which made him feel sorry for Charlie. The world forgets easily, and then forgets that it forgot.
Davidek found himself on the sidelines most of the time. Smitty stood beside him, scratching his cheek. Breaking the silence, Davidek asked, “So, now that you hang around with the older kids, do you know Hannah Kraut?”
Smitty’s blue eyes never wavered from the field, but something in them intensified. “Why are you asking me about her?”
Davidek said, “I’m asking everybody.”
Smitty looked out into the field. “Don’t ask me again.”
“I just meant that—”
Smitty grabbed him by the neck, hard. “I said don’t ask me again.” And Davidek didn’t.
* * *
While the games went on in the field, there was another play taking place among the spectators. Leaning on the mirrored grille of her boyfriend Michael Crawford’s shiny black 4Runner, Audra Banes was buried in a big brown parka, standing beside her friends Amy Hispioli, Sandra Burk, and Allissa Hardawicky and shouting encouragement as her boyfriend gathered mud and torn grass on his clothes out in the field, quarterbacking for the team that always won this contest. Audra didn’t notice the dark-haired girl Zari and her jangly jewelry move up beside her.
Zari’s eyes focused across the field—not on the game, but on the trio of figures standing on the opposite sideline: Mary Grough; her little sister, Theresa; and their friend Anne-Marie Thomas. They were watching Zari right back.
“Where’s Lorelei?” Zari asked, making Audra jump a little.
Audra pulled back the furry hood of her coat. “Oh, God, I didn’t see you there.…”
“I’m Zari,” Zari said. “Lorelei’s friend. Remember?”
“Lorelei’s over there,” Audra said, pointing to the far end of the field, where there was a table set up with cups and a portable water cooler. “I put her in charge of keeping the boys hydrated.”
“Oh, right,” Zari said. Then, after a moment: “That your boyfriend out there?” Crawford had just thrown a spectacular pass and was pounding the backs of his teammates, sweat dripping down through his hair.
“Yeah, he’s going to need a bath,” Audra said, and Zari laughed loudly. Too loudly.
Across the field, the Grough sisters were like vultures waiting for something to drop dead. Zari wished they would stop staring at her.
“Lorelei’s right about him,” Zari said. “He’s cute.” Audra took a while to respond. She found her smile before she spoke.
“He is cute,” Audra said proudly.
Zari waited. That’s what the Groughs said to do: Wait. Don’t rush in and start blabbing. Draw her out. Got it?
“Lorelei thinks he’s really cute. Man, she just goes on and on. The rest of us are, like, ‘Whoa, talk about something else, please!’” Zari said, laughing, which made Audra’s smile falter just a little. “I’ll bet you’re sick of it, too, right? Just blah, blah, blah!” She made a squawking gesture with her hand.
“Actually, Lorelei never mentions him,” Audra told her. “I’m sure Michael will be flattered, though.”
Zari groaned. “Not if he knew the other things she said! Or maybe he would!” The dark-haired girl laughed again, but Audra didn’t.
Audra moved Zari away from her other friends. “What … other things?”
That was the hook. The Grough sisters said: You’ll just chat her up, very casual.… Then out of the blue, she’s going to want to know more. And that’s when you say …
“Nothing,” Zari said, her face solemn. “I just
meant … you know, the details and all, of how she likes him. It’s nothing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Audra put a hand on Zari’s shoulder and looked down the row to where Lorelei was handing out paper cups of water. “What else has she been saying about Michael?”
Zari feigned distress. “Look, I wanted to tell you, because even though Lorelei and I are friends, I don’t think what she’s doing is cool. It’s just … not right.”
Audra was in Zari’s face, voice low. “What exactly is she doing that isn’t right?”
Zari hesitated again, like the Groughs had told her. “At first I just thought it was a crush, but then … after he picked her to be Miss St. Mike’s in that dumb beauty pageant, and after she’s been hanging around with him while hanging around with you … She says she wants to do stuff to him, you know? Stuff she says you won’t do for him. Or can’t.”
“How does she know what I can and can’t do for him?” Audra asked, though she didn’t want that answered.
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think he even notices her.”
“He doesn’t notice her,” Audra snapped. “He has me.” Then, regaining her composure, “This is too weird.”
Zari pleaded: “Please, don’t tell her, please.” Audra grabbed her elbow and said, “Let’s go talk to Lorelei right now. This doesn’t sound right.”
Zari dug in her heels as the student council president pulled her arm. “If Lorelei knows you heard this from me, I won’t be able to find out any more.”
Audra eased her grip on Zari. She walked back against the 4Runner, lifting her furry hood around her head. Zari stayed to watch the rest of the game but was careful not to go over to where the Groughs were standing. They had told her to avoid contact until later. Afterwards, when no one was paying attention, Zari slipped into Anne-Marie’s beat-up Ford Taurus.
“It’s done,” the freshman said. “Just make sure you sign up for me next week like you promised. And if you do anything horrible to me, I swear I’ll rat you out.”
“So you think she believed you?” Mary asked.
“Probably,” Zari said. “I can’t read minds.”
* * *
When the game was over, Audra and her friends piled into Michael Crawford’s tanklike vehicle to celebrate the victory at Kings Restaurant on the other side of the river in New Ken. Lorelei was about to get into the 4Runner when Audra signaled Amy Hispioli to close the door.
“Oh, sorry, Lorelei,” Audra said, rolling down the passenger window—partway. “Can you call your mom to get you?”
When Lorelei left for school that day, her mother had been passed out drunk on the couch, a cigarette smoldering in the clamp of her prosthetic. “She’s not home today,” Lorelei said. “You told me you would give me a ride.”
It didn’t make a difference to Audra. “Great. Well, see you later.…” And then, “Oh, hey … Do you know a girl named Zari? Is she a friend of yours?”
Lorelei nodded, still trying to hide her crushing disappointment. “Yeah, she’s nice. A little weird, but yeah … she’s cool. Why?”
“She was just hanging around during the game. Some of the other girls are wondering which freshmen to pick next week. If you say she’s cool…”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s nice.”
Audra nodded, as if that concluded things.
“Have a happy Thanksgiving,” Lorelei said as the 4Runner pulled away, but her guardian angel had already rolled up the window.
EIGHTEEN
“Okay, this is bad,” Green said. The boys were standing together in the library. It was Monday, just after Thanksgiving break, and the Brother–Sister sign-up sheet had been posted in history teacher Mrs. Arnarelli’s homeroom that morning.
Half the freshmen were already taken. Green had been chosen by Bilbo, Zari had been selected by Mary Grough, and half a dozen others were also chosen by seniors they’d befriended. The upperclassmen looking for someone to hate on were taking more time.
Stein and Davidek had been deemed off-limits to everyone—the seniors of St. Michael’s were leaving them as bait for Hannah Kraut. That was Green’s bad news. “I’m sorry,” Green said to Davidek. “I tried to talk one of Bilbo’s guys into choosing you, but they all remember you being a pain in the ass during that Dog Collar Day thing … and you running and hiding in that bus didn’t exactly earn anyone’s respect.”
Shit.
Davidek asked Green if he had any idea what was in this book of secrets.
“It’s just vague rumors right now,” Green said. “Bilbo and the guys think she knows about a senior girl—no one’s sure who—who’s had abortions. That’s abortions with an S—plural. And apparently some sophomores are worried she knows about them breaking into cars last summer to steal stereos. I overheard some girls say Hannah knows about a junior—a junior guy—who’s been secretly snapping naked photos of dudes on the basketball team in the locker room.”
“How could she know that?” Davidek said.
Stein was looking at a book about medieval torture, and acting like he didn’t care what they were talking about. “She wants to make someone read that at the Hazing Picnic?” he said absently. “Damn, I may just volunteer. I’d love to stick it to those seniors.”
“It’s about more than just the seniors,” Green said. “Good luck next year—and the year after that—facing all the sophomores and juniors you humiliate.”
“Bullshit. The teachers’ll never let anyone read that stuff anyway,” Stein said. “They’ll cut the mic the minute anyone tries.”
Green shook his jowly cheeks. “They can’t, remember? It’s not an official school event. They’ve had people get up there at the Hazing Picnic and do all kinds of deranged stuff that makes the school mad. The teachers aren’t able to stop anything.”
Stein scoffed. “If you’re so worried, just refuse to read it if she picks you. Tell her to roll that notebook up and shove it up her ass.”
“And what if she knows something about you?” Green asked.
Davidek smiled. For the first time, the threat seemed to lift. “Shit, we never had any abortions! What’s to know about us?”
Green shrugged. Stein riffled the pages of his torture book. “I’ve had a few,” he said.
* * *
Davidek figured if he found Hannah Kraut first, she wouldn’t find him.
If he could ID her, he could avoid her. If he knew where she went for lunch, which hallway her locker was in, and when her classes were, he could theoretically stay out of her way. And if she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t pick him. But after three days scanning the halls, he never spotted anyone with two different-colored eyes.
On the bookshelves in the library, Davidek, Green, and Stein found a yearbook from the previous year with a grainy, black-and-white photo of Hannah Kraut, and he instantly recognized her frizzy blond hair. When The Boy on the Roof had been bombarding everyone in the parking lot, she was the one Ms. Bromine snagged by her pigtail as kids were fleeing across the street. There was nothing the three freshmen could gather from her face, however. It had been scratched away to the rough, white paper beneath.
Davidek found three other copies of the yearbook on the shelf. Each one had her face scraped away, and they found other listings of her name throughout the books. Not one image remained intact. They found the yearbooks from her freshmen and sophomore years, too, but already knew what they’d find. Every photo of her had its face scratched away.
“I know everybody hates her, but who would do this?” Davidek asked.
Green got the answer a few days later, after asking his senior friends from the stairwell gang. “She did it,” Green said, showing them a copy of Bilbo’s junior yearbook. “When they came in, they all passed each other’s books around, getting everyone to sign them. This is what Hannah did to each one.” Just like in the others, Hannah Kraut’s face was scratched off in every photo. Underneath her defaced portrait, she had written in bold, black marker: YOU COULDN’T REMEMBE
R ME IF YOU TRIED.
* * *
Lorelei was panicking. “Audra, Audra—!” Lorelei said, running up behind the student council president in the crowded hallway. Audra adjusted her black-rimmed glasses as if the girl before her were out of focus. “Yesss…?” she said, like air hissing from a tire.
Lorelei could hardly speak. Her lips worked, and her eyes pooled as she struggled to get the words out. “It’s been a week, and I’ve been very patient, but I just saw the Brother–Sister sign-up sheet, and…”
“And…,” Audra said, crossing her arms over her books.
“It says you signed up for Justin Teemo. Justin Teemo?”
Audra shrugged. “Michael—my boyfriend—told me he was a nice kid. We’re going to have the other girls dress up in poodle skirts and sing ‘My Guy’ to him onstage.”
“You said you’d pick me,” Lorelei whispered, unable to hold back the tears dripping down her cheeks. “Please. Please change it back.… Or could you make someone else pick me?”
Audra rolled her eyes as she walked away. “I know who I hope picks you.”
* * *
Davidek found Lorelei hugging Stein in an empty stairwell. They stood below the stained glass window of St. Francis of Assisi holding a bird on his extended finger and keeping the peace between the sheep and rabbits and ducks and wolves. Davidek couldn’t see Lorelei’s face. It was pressed into Stein’s shoulder.
Lorelei’s body squirmed against Stein’s arms. She was murmuring, “Your fault … your fault…,” and gripping him in something that looked less like an embrace and more like an effort to inflict pain. When she finally pulled away, the skin beneath her eyes was swollen and purple and wet. “They hate me because of you,” she said. “I knew it! I warned you!”
Stein was trying to find out who? What? How did this happen? But Lorelei wasn’t interested in him understanding. As he tried to pull her close again, she snapped. “Keep the hell away from me.”
Brutal Youth: A Novel Page 15
