Hush Money (2 page)

Point scored for Team Marshall.

“Hmmm, well…. If you’re sure there’s nothing
you’d like to discuss…”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Don’t forget to have Ms. Clark give you a
hall pass.”

During class the girls’ bathrooms were
usually deserted, but not the one closest to the guidance offices.
That one was too close to the gym and chances were it would be
occupied by those whose decision to skip gym was more whim than
plan, and hadn’t come up with any better option. So I’d had to
shuffle along two hallways and up a flight of stairs before finding
a quiet stall where I could take a few shuddering breaths and try
to pull myself back together.

God, I hated Dobbs, the supercilious bastard.
And then there was the fire…
I mocked him in my head using
my best idiot voice.
Yeah, now that you mention it, I do
suddenly want to talk about it. And, you know, I feel so close to
you now that I feel like I can share my secret.

As if. Asshat.

Thing was, I could be pissed all I wanted to,
but that didn’t seem to be stopping the movie in my head, the
feelings of dread as I watched it play out, knowing I couldn’t stop
the little girls from their stupid plan. It didn’t stop me from
reliving the terror as things spun out of control, or the equally
worse fear in the aftermath as we waited to see what would happen.
As the unthinkable happened. As everything changed.

I felt wetness on my face and muttered a
curse, leaning down for some toilet paper. But of course it was
empty. I banged the back of my head on the door as I rummaged in my
bag with one hand. I had to get a grip on myself.
No better way
to get noticed in school than to walk around looking like I’ve been
cry—

Still clutching the oversized notebook in my
arms, I fumbled the bunch of stuff I pulled out of my bag to sort
through for a tissue. I instinctively reached out with my mind and
caught everything. The objects hovered in the air above the bowl: a
pen, a scrunchie, a few crumpled bills, and the tissue.

I held them there a moment, feeling in my
head those fragile, invisible strings between each object and my
mind. It would hardly take any effort at all to open up my bag, tug
at those imaginary strings, and float everything right back in. But
in my mind I could hear my dad’s voice saying,
“The best way to
seem normal is to be normal.”

I put out my hand, grasped the crumpled piece
of Kleenex, and let the other things go. The scrunchie bounced off
the seat landed in floor, the pen and the money hit the water. I
put my boot to the handle and flushed.

Be normal,
I thought.
It’s just
that easy.

Dylan

“Dylan, bum a smoke.”

“No, man, I quit.”

“What, again?” Marco half whined, like I’d
made the decision just to inconvenience him.

“Hey, Marco, I gotcha.” Jeff took a last drag
and passed his cigarette to Marco before reaching into his jacket
for another.

“God damn, when is this rain ever going to
stop?” I turned up my collar when a drop rolled off the slight
overhang and snaked its way down my neck. I pressed my back against
the wall with the other guys and kept my eyes open for Assistant
Principle Sims.

“When it snows. So what is it now? It’s a
little late to start a college fund.” There was something about
Marco. Everything needed an explanation with him, even something as
simple as me giving up cigarettes for the umpteenth time.

I’m starting a getaway fund in case they
come for me next.
“I’m savin’ up for an ark.”

“Oh, well that’ll work for you. The world
covered in water and it’s just you and a boatload of sheep,” Jeff
snarked.

“Jealous much?”

Marco snorted, ready to let it go, and Eric
said, to no one in particular, “Bet Krista wishes she’d prepared
for a rainy day.”

Eric was often the quiet one, and maybe it
was all that observation he did that made him seem too damned
perceptive sometimes.

“That freak bitch. I knew there was something
off about her.”

Yeah, Marco, you knew it from the first
time she told you no.
“Would you give it a rest?”

“What’s with you?” Marco snapped.

“What’s with
you?
” I shot back. “I’m
just tired of your bullshit, that’s all.”

“You’re always like this when they take
someone,” Jeff complained.

I looked across Marco to where Jeff was
avoiding eye contact with me. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. All, like, morose and shit.
Get over it.”

“Aw, leave him alone,” Marco said, clapping a
hand on my shoulder and giving it a shake. It looked like a
friendly gesture from the outside, but it was only the
extraordinary strength of Marco’s grip on my shoulder that kept me
from falling over. Fortunately, I had learned to tuck my chin to my
chest to avoid having the back of my head crack against the wall
behind me. “You know he’s been trying that sensitivity thing. How’s
that workin’ for you?”

“Obviously he has to beat the chicks back
with a stick,” Jeff snarked.

“The bell’s gonna ring.”
And save me from
you idiots I call my friends,
I thought as I pushed away from
the wall and headed for the fire door we’d propped open.

“Yo, wait up,” Marco said, catching my arm
and propelling me ahead and away from the other guys. “I’ve got an
idea about this weekend. We’ll talk about it later.”

My stomach clenched. This was exactly the
conversation I wanted to avoid and really couldn’t put off much
longer. Marco and his expectations were going to land me in jail.
Or worse. “This weekend? You really think that’s a good idea? I
mean what with Krista and all?”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Damn, I could use
the cash. That’s ok, though, because I’ve got something else coming
up. Something big.” He clapped me on the shoulder again and this
time there was no show of strength, just the connection. “What
would I do without you, buddy? You’re always thinkin’. Always got
my back.”

Yeah. You bet.

* * *

Joss

How bad does it have to get before I can
call it the worst day ever?

First Krista, then freakin’ Dobbs, and then
Mr. Hanson. He cornered me after Chem to talk to me about my lousy
performance on the latest test. My dad was going to have a fit
about that. Bad grades, like outstanding grades, draw attention. A
solid B average is the thing to aim for. Anyway, the impromptu
summary of the covalent-whatever deal—which I still didn’t get—had
delayed me in my usual pre-lunch routine, and gotten me nabbed by a
hall monitor. Do Not Pass Go, do not sneak up to your usual
hideout, go directly to the Fifth Circle of Hell, otherwise known
as the cafeteria.

It’s not like I’d never been to the cafeteria
before. I used to have to eat there when I was a freshman, for a
few very long months, anyway, before I figured out how to avoid it.
I remembered now that the best caf’ strategy was to take your lunch
with you to the class before so you could race down there, as
inconspicuously as possible, and claim an empty table. It was ok
for later arrivals to sit at your table, which they might do,
crowding together on the opposite side like you have a disease, but
whatever. As long as you got there first, you didn’t have to ask to
sit at anyone else’s table—and risk being told no, because what’s
more humiliating than that? Sometimes people would just take all
the chairs from your table and carry them off to other tables, and
that’s sort of embarrassing too, but not as bad if you don’t let it
get to you and remind yourself that lunching alone is a valid
lifestyle choice. On the whole, though, the cafeteria is a bad
scene and to be avoided whenever possible.

So there I was, standing in the doorway,
taking a quick scan of the room and scoping things out. I still had
a notebook and textbook for Chem, so I moved them to carry them
under my arm. Because you can’t be holding books in front of you
like a shield. It’s way girly and makes people think you’re scared.
Posturing is very important in the wild; watch a few documentaries,
you’ll see.

I couldn’t spend too much time hovering,
because that was only going to draw attention, so I just plunged in
and hoped for the best. The caf’ was friggin’ chaos as usual. I
think I have a low tolerance for chaos. I kept scanning, knowing
that I wasn’t going to find an empty table, but hoped maybe I’d see
an empty space near someone I was at least on speaking terms with,
and could come up with some burning question I had to ask. It’s
hard to look around for such a specific situation while still
trying to avoid eye contact, let me tell you.

And then I saw it. There were two chairs just
standing there in the corner against the wall. One was pushed all
the way into the corner and facing out into the room, the other
facing the corner. I could sit with my back to the room, put my
boots up on the one in the corner, prop my textbook up on my knees,
and pretend like I just had to absorb some chemistry knowledge.
Perfect.

Except for the fact that I had to pass
Marco’s table, and I was so excited about the chairs that I didn’t
even notice it until my books flew out from under my arm and hit
the floor. I think I knew what happened before I even saw him. Some
kind of
prey recognizes predator right before it gets eaten
kind of thing.

“Oops,” he said, in that obnoxious,
I so
meant to do that
way.

I had to squat down to pick up the books,
because of course papers went flying out of my notebook when it
landed. Thankfully they didn’t go far and I didn’t actually have to
go crawling under tables for them.

“Sorry about that, Joss.”

“Sure.”

“Surprised to see you here.”

I didn’t answer. I had some answers in my
head; it just seemed better to keep my mouth shut and move on.

“You never come here for lunch. Are you
meeting your girlfriend? Why don’t you bring her over? Jeff, get a
couple chairs for Joss and her new girlfriend.”

See, this is a thing between Marco and me,
and it’s really unpleasant. When we were freshmen, I guess he had
this thing for me because he asked me to the Homecoming dance. And
he kept bugging me to go out with him for like a week or something
until I finally had to get nasty with him so he’d leave me alone.
Not like insulting his masculinity nasty, just, you know, the
I
don’t like you
truth of it. I don’t know why we have to think
that telling the truth is being mean, but sometimes I’m powerless
against my socialization, what can I tell you? Anyway, ever since
then he’s been on this
You must be a lesbian
thing, because
I guess that’s the only way it makes sense for him that I wouldn’t
just fall at his feet. Mostly I just avoid him.

Which is what I tried to do at that point by
standing up with my books and taking a step away from the table,
except that he caught my arm.

“Let me go, Marco.”

“Or what, you’ll get your girlfriend over
here to kick my ass?”

Jeff chuckled at that, and I knew that would
only make Marco feel like he had an audience so he’d be more into
hassling me. I couldn’t help but glance over at Dylan. Because I’m
an idiot. He was at the other end of the table with Eric. They had
their noses stuck in a car magazine and didn’t seem to notice what
was going on.

I think Marco noticed because his eyes
narrowed at me, and my stomach rolled. Marco can be really mean,
and what’s more, he’s not that typical big, stupid bully
as seen
on TV
. He’s smart enough to come up with the kind of stuff that
really hurts. Stuff that sticks forever.

“Joss, where have you been? Come on. Lunch is
half over.”

What the…?
I turned my head—Marco
still had my arm—and Kat was standing there. I wouldn’t even say I
had a speaking relationship with Kat. She’d said “hi” to me last
month, and one time in the locker room she asked to borrow lotion
from me which of course I didn’t have. She was new to Fairview High
this year, and I had to wonder what she was doing, and if she
realized how stupid it was to get on Marco’s bad side.

“Kat? You and
Kat
?”

“She and
Kat
need to study for Chem,”
Kat said in her sassy way, with a quick glance at my books.
“Because I just don’t get it. So…if you’d just turn her loose, I’d
sure appreciate it.”

Kat is pretty. There’s just no other way to
see it. She’s got this gorgeous café au lait skin, light green
eyes, and lots of dark brown curls. When she turned that pretty
smile on Marco, I felt his grip go slack.

Then I, being an idiot as I might have
mentioned, glanced at Dylan again, to see if he’d noticed Kat’s
smile. Which he did, and was now paying attention to the drama. I
wondered how many more people were, now that Kat was there.

“Chemistry. I’ll bet there’s some chemistry
goin’ on there. I’d like to see some of that action. Maybe the
three of us—”

“Marco, honey, I’m gonna have to wreck your
fantasy and tell you that not only are Joss and I not involved with
each other, and not only are we both straight—which you’d think any
straight guy
would realize—but I would do her and half the
guys at this table before I would even let you watch me change my
shoes.”

Eric opened his mouth to say something but
Kat immediately cut him off, “No, Eric. You’re in the other half.”
But I have to say that the smile she threw him made me think maybe
that wasn’t true.

While they all sat there digesting that, Kat
gave me a tug that almost spilled my books again. Before I knew
what was happening, I found myself pushed into a chair at Kat’s
table which was full of girls whose names and faces I’d known for
years. But I’d never spoken more than a few words to any of them.
They were all looking from me to Kat and back again.