UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Dad didn’t seem to feel too bad about losing driving duties on Monday; he actually gave me a sly grin as I walked out the door.
I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe for Miles to look happier than he did? Maybe for him to give me a reason to disbelieve what Tucker had said? It had only been a day since I’d last seen him, and I hadn’t tried to quell the riot of excitement in my stomach. But as I climbed into the passenger seat, he only gave me the weakest smile before he dissolved into a sort of humiliated depression. He had dark bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.” He stared straight ahead as he drove.
I didn’t say anything else until we’d parked and were walking toward the building, and I noticed that he was doing his best to conceal a limp.
“Why are you limping? What happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing happened—I’m fine.”
“Miles, what did he do to you?”
“Don’t worry about it!” he snapped.
I shrank back. We didn’t talk all the way to first period English, and when we sat down in our seats, a few snickers came from Cliff’s corner of the room.
“Hey, Richter,” Cliff called, “those Allies finally kick your ass?”
Miles gave Cliff the finger and laid his head down on the desk.
I stared at his back and his sandy hair, and my heart sank until it rested somewhere below my navel. Maybe I’d gotten my hopes up too much. Maybe Tucker had been right. Maybe that trip had been a one-time thing. Maybe he didn’t. . . .
Stop thinking about him, idiot!
I looked at the flickering fluorescent light over my head, then at my classmates, fresh from winter break.
Celia’s hair had turned a strange, moldy mixture of yellow and brown, but it was still green at the tips. She wore East Shoal sweats, and her blue contacts were gone; her eyes were brown. Her face looked weird until I realized it was because she wasn’t wearing makeup. Even though she had no makeup on and she was acne-ridden, she was pretty.
Why did she try so hard?
Everyone was talking about her, making jokes and snide comments loud enough for her to hear. She just sat there, staring at the top of her desk, her eyebrows pushed together. She didn’t seem to want to kill me. Or anyone. She didn’t seem to have much fighting spirit left at all.
A tiny part of me, the part that forgot it had witnessed her screaming about her burning hair, and screaming about not getting what she wanted, and screaming about her friends, felt bad for her.
Miles slept through all our classes that day. Even if he didn’t usually make an effort, he never just slept. The teachers must have realized something was wrong, because they didn’t try to wake him up. Five minutes before each bell, he’d rise like the dead and shuffle on to the next class. Someone called him “Nazi” in the hallway after fifth period, and he just kept on walking.
I didn’t like seeing him this upset. So when we left chemistry and headed for the gym, I shifted my books over to one arm and took his hand, threading our fingers together. I stood on my toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. For a few seconds, a real smile lit up his face.
It was gone by the time we got to the gym, though he still held tight to my hand. The club sat in a group on the bleachers, and a few feet away from them sat Celia. We’d all known this was going to happen, but no one seemed particularly happy about it.
“Hey, Boss. Alex,” said Evan.
“Got something you want to tell us?” Ian asked, pointing to our hands.
Miles looked down as if he’d forgotten he was holding my hand, and then looked back up at Evan and Ian and their impish grins, and said quite plainly, “No.”
I shook my head, let go of Miles’s hand, and went to go sit next to Jetta.
“As you probably all guessed, Hendricks is doing community service with us now.” Miles waved a lazy hand in Celia’s direction. She shot him a look, but it was gone in an instant.
“Can’t you do anything, Boss?” asked Theo. “Can’t you get her sent someplace else?”
“I don’t like it,” Miles snapped, “but I’m not a miracle worker. McCoy’s own damn rules got her put here, and trust me, he wasn’t happy about it, either. It’s one semester—just deal with her. Evan and Ian, I’m leaving her under your control. Make sure she’s doing something. Everyone else, normal stations.”
Evan and Ian looked at Celia with twin expressions of glee on their faces, and then dragged her along to the storage rooms to get the ball carts. Jetta left to watch over Art’s wrestling practice in the auxiliary gym, and Theo retreated to the concession stand. I started to follow her, but Miles grabbed my sleeve and gently tugged me back.
“You’re with me.” He motioned toward the scorer’s table.
We sat down and got stat charts and rosters ready until the basketball teams came in and warmed up. I watched Celia the whole time as Evan made her sweep the gym floor by herself and Ian made her put new bags in all the trash cans.
When she was done, she sat down in the bleachers. Seconds later, her mother breezed in through the doors, blond hair swinging against her back. Celia didn’t even look up when her mother stopped in front of her and began hissing.
“What are you doing now? Wallowing?”
Celia stared at her feet and said nothing. Her mother continued, casting a shadow over her. “You could have had everything, Celia. If you had done as I said, you could have had your pick of any college. Any one you wanted. You could have had everything. But now you’re off the cheerleading squad, forced to spend time with these delinquents—”
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Miles said. “I’m not used to dealing with . . . uh . . . not used to having someone to—”
“—and instead of trying to get back on top, I find you mooning over that boy—”
“—so yeah, it was him. Were you worried? I didn’t mean to—”
“—I can tell you right now, Richard will have a thing or two to say about that. He’s not going to let my daughter keep herself from her full potential—”
“—don’t have to worry about it, okay? Everything’s fine—”
“—Richard’s going to put everything back in order. He’ll make sure you’re worthy of carrying on my legacy. And if that boy stands in his way, Richard will have him removed.”
Miles pulled on my hand, jerking my focus completely to him. “You’re shaking. Why are you shaking?”
“I’m just . . . nervous. And I feel bad for Celia. Her mother seems terrible, and McCoy . . . I want to tell someone, but I don’t know who would listen.”
“Maybe McCoy will slip, and we’ll have evidence that something is going on.”
Celia stood on the bleachers across the gym, staring back at us. Her mother had gone. When she saw me looking at her, she bolted down the stairs too fast and tripped the last three steps.
“You’re an obstacle,” I said.
“What?”
“Celia likes you.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“And McCoy and her mom think it’s a bad thing. They think you’re . . . impeding her potential, or something. And they really don’t like it.”
He hesitated. Doubt pressed his eyebrows together. Even Miles had a limit to his suspension of disbelief, and I’d been paranoid long enough to know I was pushing it.
“I know how it sounds,” I said, “but I heard it straight from them, and I’m really afraid McCoy is going to hurt you. I’m not going to do anything stupid or weird or . . . just please tell me you’ll stay away from him?”
He lifted my hand and held it against his chest. “I told you I’d be careful, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.”
Celia wiped her eyes and shuffled toward the door.
“What’s she doing?” Miles rose from his seat. I pulled him back down again.
“Let her go,” I said. “She’ll be back.”
Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Celia wandered back into the gym, her eyes redder and puffier than when she’d left. She sat down on the very end of the bottom row of the bleachers and stared at her hands. She looked . . . broken. Like the crazy bitch in her had finally died and left a shell behind.
June was right. I needed to talk to her.