Read Sweet Blood of Mine Online

Authors: John Corwin

Sweet Blood of Mine (5 page)

I tapped out a text to Katie. Dad snatched my phone before I could send the masterpiece and put the phone out of my reach.

"Not a good idea," he said, chuckling. "You'l thank me in the morning."

"But everything is so clear. I have to tel her now."

"Yeah. Sure it is. That's your last beer, kiddo.

Drink a lot of water if you don't want to feel like crap tomorrow."

I took his advice and drank water until I felt it might leak from my ears.

* * * * *

I woke up the next morning with only a mild hangover and a bursting bladder. My phone lay next to my computer. I looked at it and the text I had almost sent to Katie.

U R teh most beautiful perfect creature that will
ever walk this Earth and I am ur king 4eva.

I grimaced and deleted the atrocity before my fat I grimaced and deleted the atrocity before my fat fingers accidentaly sent the thing. Adults realy do know what they're talking about sometimes. I thanked Dad under my breath for saving me from publicly castrating myself via sheer idiocy. I'm sure my message would have found its way to the
Texts from Last Night
website if Jenny or Annie had gotten hold of Katie's phone.

I looked at the clock and realized I'd never be ready in time for the school bus. I popped a couple of ibuprofen to quel the slight ache in my skul and got ready.

I drove Dad's Jetta to school since he had one of those stay-at-home jobs and hated driving cars—he much preferred his ancient Indian motorcycle which I thought looked kind of dorky by current standards. As I looked for a parking spot I noticed a mass of students miling in the parking lot near the school entrance. Strange. Usualy everyone went inside, especialy considering the cold and the freezing wind. Gray clouds scudded across the sky.

Rain puddles dotted the asphalt. It was not a good day to be outside. I figured the principal must be running a fire dril.

After heaving my backpack on my right shoulder, I made my way toward the chattering crowd and the doors to the school. My breath frosted in the cold morning air and my glasses fogged up a bit thanks to the knit cap I had shoved low onto my forehead. I stopped for a moment to take off my glasses and wipe them. As I stood there I noticed how quiet the crowd had become. I pushed my glasses back on and looked ahead. Dozens of eyes stared back. I looked behind me expecting to see the latest pre-pubescent pop star step out of a limo. Nope, nobody there.

My stomach writhed and scurried away to hide in my bowels. Something was seriously amiss this morning.

Nathan
. He waited for me. I just knew it. I almost backpedaled and made a run for my car but that would be postponing the inevitable. I had to think my way out of this.

The crowd parted as I reached the edge. Familiar green eyes locked onto mine as I stepped into an arena in the middle of the mob. Katie stood a few feet from the glass doors leading into the school. Next to her stood a person that made my heart join my stomach in hiding.

Brad Nichols punched a leather-gloved fist into his palm and grinned.

Chapter 5

If there ever was a time for me to soil my underwear, it was now. Thankfuly, that didn't happen.

Brad approached, malice gleaming in his eyes.

Katie gripped his arm. "Stop, Brad. Please!"

He jerked his arm free and promptly ignored her.

He looked me up and down. It didn't take long, considering I was at least a ful head shorter. He wasn't nearly as tal as Nathan but that didn't matter. I waited for him to say something. Instead, he buried his fist in my stomach.

My backpack fel from my shoulder. I staggered back, gasping for breath and wheeling to the right. A low leafless hedge tripped me. My face planted in a puddle of muck. I jerked my head clear and took in a shuddering breath but got a mouthful of brown slime instead. Mud caked the left side of my glasses and dribbled down my cheek. Through the right side I saw Mark and Harry snorting with laughter next to a couple of other guys I didn't know. They caught my gaze and sobered, apologetic expressions on their faces. Rage flared in my chest. I pushed myself to my knees. I didn't care what happened. I was going to beat the crap out of Brad.

Before I could stand, however, Brad grabbed my jacket and hauled me backwards over the hedge. He snatched off my knit cap and tossed it away before shoving me on my back. Cold dampness seeped into the seat of my pants. He'd dropped me right into a freezing water puddle on the sidewalk. I tried to spring to my feet but my clumsy girth hampered me and made it a slow climb instead. I roled onto my knees, soaking the front of my pants. My hands went numb with cold.

Katie had Brad by the arm again. He shoved her away and she hit her head on the door. Raw fury flowed into my veins.
Do something, you fat idiot!
Pain burst into my skul. It wasn't from Brad this time. It was my stupid migraines flaring up again. Brad's fist caught me in the cheek. My glasses flew off. My jaw ached but didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. I roared. Brad howled with laughter. I probably looked like an infuriated chipmunk.

"Look at the angry little pig," he said. Gales of laughter chimed in from the onlookers.

I jumped to my feet. He came at me again, fist cocked, eyes smug. I swung. My fist connected. His jaw made a terrible popping noise. His legs wobbled. An astonished look came over his stupid face and he dropped to the sidewalk right into the same puddle he'd put me in.

The headache vanished but everything went blurry, which was odd because it usualy happened
while
I had the headache. I fumbled on the ground for my glasses. A gentle hand touched mine and pressed the glasses into it. I put them on. The filth had been cleaned off. I looked up, expecting to see Katie smiling at her new hero. Instead I choked back a gasp as the Goth girl came into focus.

Katie hovered over Brad, tears in her eyes. She put his head in her lap and smoothed his cropped hair. My mouth dropped open. Why was she babying that asshole?

I almost screamed in frustration.

Harry and Mark walked up.

"Holy crap, man!" Harry said, his eyes ful of suppressed laughter. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"I hope it was entertaining," I growled.

Harry smirked. "Look, man, it
was
kind of funny."

I lunged at him and knocked him on his butt. The smirk vanished.

"Thank God I have such great friends," I said, shouting for everyone to hear. "People I can count on when some asshole is beating the crap out of me."

Mark placed himself between me and Harry.

Mark placed himself between me and Harry.

"What the hel, Justin?"

Harry leapt to his feet, pushed past Mark, and shoved me. "You idiot," he spat. "You never had a chance with Katie. You're just a delusional nerd like the rest of us."

Hot tears threatened to break loose but I fought them back. I wouldn't give these people the satisfaction of seeing me cry even if they were tears of fury. I glanced at Katie as she helped Brad off the ground. She didn't even look at me. The Goth girl was, though. She stood near the entrance, a curious expression on her face as students filed inside the school now that the spectacle was over. It amazed me how anyone with so many piercings could ever look sympathetic. I didn't want her sympathy or her pity.

She was an even bigger loser than me. Her devil-may-care attitude and devil worshipper clothes begged for the attention she craved. Her reality probably included an abusive family and a trailer park.

I grabbed my backpack off the ground and made a beeline for the Jetta before my rage caused me to do anything else stupid. I climbed into the car and slammed the steering wheel with the palm of my hand. I stared back at the school. I had to go home and change clothes. Grime coated my shirt and pants and I wasn't about to go inside looking like this.

I screeched out of the parking lot but didn't make it far before a fat tear clouded my vision. I puled over in front of a liquor store to fight the sudden storm of angry tears that threatened to break loose. I would not cry, dammit. I looked at myself in the rear-view mirror. Muddy rivulets streaked my cheeks. Dirt glommed onto my sweaty face. I looked like something from a horror film. Maybe I was a monster. A hunch-backed Igor, destined to be the untouchable low man on the totem pole forever. Life had been so easy on me up until this point. Good parents, good friends, and harmless nerdly pursuits. It was like God had come down and kicked my life in the bals. It hurt like crazy.

An approaching bum gave me a wide-eyed look.

He puled an about-face and went to beg money from someone who didn't look as psychotic as I did.

I puled out my cel phone. It took me several minutes to calm my mind enough to compose a text to Katie.

Are you okay?

I waited and waited for her response. Minutes ticked by and nothing. Stupid hussy. How could she help that jerk after what he'd done to her? I screamed in impotent rage and baled up my fists.

"Why don't you want me?" I asked the absent girl that I craved so badly. I almost heard the snap as my heart broke in two.

My phone chimed. My heart lightened. Finaly, she'd responded. Instead, it was a text from the wireless company, teling me my bil was ready to view. I fought the urge to smash my phone through the car window, instead gripping the steering wheel as if it were the last thing preventing me from faling into a ravine. There had to be a poem in this pain somewhere.

A cheerful ding informed me the Jetta was almost out of fuel. I pounded the steering wheel and drove to a Quick Trip gas station before I compounded my misery with a long walk.

As the gas galon counter slowly ticked upward and the dolar amount skyrocketed to epic proportions, a low growling caught my ear. I looked at the dumpsters about twenty feet to my left. A large Rottweiler snarled at a huddled black form trapped between a brown metal dumpster and the brick wal bordering the refuse area. I took a few cautious steps forward until I could make out the black furry shape of a very perturbed cat. It arched its back and hissed at the dog.

back and hissed at the dog.

The Rottweiler pounced. The cat leapt back. Huge slobbering jaws snapped on empty air. Why did the big guys always have to pick on the little ones? Bulies like Brad and Nathan and this stupid dog were one and the same. Anger-fueled lunacy replaced the final dredges of logic in my addled mind. I ran at the huge dog, yeling and waving my arms like an idiot. The dog turned toward me, hackles raised, and bared its very sharp and very scary teeth. It lunged for my leg, teeth clacking. I shrieked and jumped back.

The beast snarled and charged. I swung my leg in an awkward defensive gesture. Somehow, my foot caught the dog right in the nose with a loud crack. He yelped and roled on the ground. The little black cat had jumped to the top of the dumpster during the fray and seemed to be quite entertained. I reached for him while the dog staggered dizzily nearby. I was afraid the cat might claw me but he settled into my arms and meowed happily as I raced for my car. I didn't want to be anywhere near that dog when it recovered.

I miraculously remembered to pul the gas pump nozzle out of the fuel filer and to screw on the fuel cover even as I trembled like someone whose stomach had just informed them the Indian food they'd eaten was, in fact, about to tear their digestive system to shreds.

I sat in the car and put the cat in the passenger seat.

For a moment, al I could hear was my own panicked breathing. I couldn't believe I'd done it. That dog could have rabies. It could have maimed me. I figured a good old-fashioned mauling would have fit right in with today's
fantastic
milestones.

My parents weren't home when I arrived. I went in and washed up, fed the cat some leftovers while I figured out what in the world to do next. The cat meowed in what I interpreted as a voicing of sympathy and complete understanding of my fragile emotional state, his midnight-black fur rubbing against my outstretched hand.

"Thanks," I said, taking a deep breath to calm my palpitating heart. "You're kind of a brave little cat, aren't you?" I took a moment or two to properly contemplate what I should cal him. "Welcome to my world, Captain Tibbs."

He cocked his head to the side and meowed, a clear indication he loved his new name.

I stared at the clock on the wal. It was almost lunchtime and returning to school seemed stupid at this point. Only pain and misery waited in that place.

I went into the garage and opened Dad's fridge.

Beer crammed every shelf.

"Holy crap," I said. Was dad going off the deep end? I found a six-pack of the beer he'd given me last night and grabbed a couple of bottles from it. I shut the door halfway, hesitated, and opened it again. I took the entire six-pack to my room. Anger burned in my chest every time I thought about Katie or Brad effing Nichols, not to mention my supposed friends who'd laughed at me while Brad used me for a punching bag.

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