Chapter 18

“no, he didn’t?” Ella’s mouth hangs open.

“He did. For real.” I poke at my lunch, tuna casserole. It was the healthiest option according to Q, who I still need to tell what went down. Too much to text.

“We knew it might happen, but where are we going to work out?” Ollie pokes at his lunch as well.

“I don’t know, but it’s not my top concern. Callaghan somehow intercepted that email, I know it. And if he did that, then what the hell is going on?”

I’m not feeling pumped, not energized like I’m some underdog. I am an underdog, but this isn’t a movie. Callaghan just shut my ass down. I have no superpowers to reclaim my position.

Ella speaks around the apple she’s chewing. “All right, so now you know that avenue of emailing the super is closed. You’re going to have to go to him directly, or skip him altogether and go to the cops.”

I want to pick her brain about this, but Alva and Taleana are heading our way.

“Aww, look at that, little fattie has a friend.” Taleana hovers. “Maybe he’ll crush you with his flab, slut.”

Ella just raises her middle finger.

Taleana laughs a forced, mean-girl, horse sound. “Good. I’ll break that one first.”

Alva stares at me. “Nice work, Dun. Somehow you manage to fuck everything up, don’t you?” Now he laughs and they move past and I feel like I’ve been kicked repeatedly.

“I’m gonna mess that girl up,” Ella says into her sandwich.

“You can’t be serious. You versus Taleana? That girl’s hardcore. She’s with Alva, so she might as well worship Satan.”

Ella sits up straight. “Remember, Greg, I spent close to a year calculating ways to get back at the bitches who fucked me over. And I never got the chance to do a single thing. I’m more than prepared.”

I hope she’s right, on all fronts, because I thought I was good to go, until I wasn’t.

• • •

I wouldn’t even be here if Quinn would just return my text. I gave him the lowdown: We can’t use the weight room. I’ll explain. What now? Apparently he’s too busy to respond.

I half ass my way through my homework in the lab, because for the first time in forever, I have no interest in looking at anything film related. I hope this is just a phase, because I can’t lose my ticket out.

The bell rings for the late buses, and I head down to the locker room, hoping I’ll catch Q. Ollie agreed to come down as well. We won’t go in, but at least we have each other’s backs in case we get jumped. The bros have a game. They may also want a sacrifice.

Ollie comes around the corner. “Hey, you heard from him?”

“No. Hopefully he’ll show.”

“I still can’t believe what happened, Greg. I’m sorry.”

How is he so nice? I seriously need to meet his parents. “It’s all right. It’ll work out. Right?”

“Always does. At least that’s what they say.” He laughs.

“Who is ‘they’ anyway?”

“No clue.”

The locker room door opens and I cringe, but it’s Q, with our bags. “Figured you guys would want these.”

I forgot all about them in the melee of yesterday. I take my bag and say, “Thanks.”

“No problem, G. Here you go, Ollie.” He hands his over. “So, what happened?”

“Long story. But Callaghan’s mixed in. Not good.”

Q frowns. “So what now? Any ideas?”

“Maybe, but let’s go outside. It’s crawling with bros around here.”

They’re filing down the hall with their sticks and grins. It’s impossible to understand how they can look past all the shit they’ve seen, just for some stupid sport with a stick and a ball. Then again, for the upperclassmen, this is probably ordinary, which sends a chill along my neck.

We exit the school and walk to Quinn’s car. I think I’ll go home and nap. Or eat a carton of ice cream.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” I say. Q leans against his car and I tell him what went down.

“Shit, you really think Callaghan funneled the email?”

“It’s the only way what went down makes sense. He didn’t seem nervous. He wanted me to crack.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, G. Maybe this training is toughening you up.” He smiles and it’s hard not to join him. “I don’t know what to make of the Callaghan situation, but I can help with keeping you active. I guarantee you’re about to spiral out, and losing the gym is the worst thing for you.”

Shit, no ice cream, I guess.

Q looks at both Ollie and me. “You can do a lot of cardio and bodyweight stuff, but that gives us problems. One, we’d have to find a good place to do that, and there isn’t another track in town, or stadium steps or really any good hills to challenge you.”

“I’m fine with flat terrain,” I say.

Quinn shakes his head. “Not if you’re going to succeed. Just running isn’t going to do it. So if we’re going to do pull-ups and push-ups and jumping and climbing exercises, we’re going to have to do it here.”

We all look toward the track, where adjacent to it, the opposing lacrosse team is warming up.

“That ain’t happening,” Ollie says.

“No shit,” I say.

“Yeah, kind of what I thought. And seriously, you guys need weights. You’re big and flabby and weak, just a terrible combination.”

That stings.

“So what do we do?” Ollie asks, seemingly not nearly as offended as me.

Q sighs and sinks down on his car. “My dad’s gym.”

“What about it?” I ask, knowing full well that this is some big shit. Because as little as I know about Quinn, even though we’ve been “friends” for so long, I know even less about the family business.

Q looks into the distance. “He’ll let us work out there.”

“You’ve talked to him?” I ask.

Quinn nods. “Yeah, I did. We saw this coming, so I played the odds and brought it up. He hasn’t said yes yet, but he will.” His voice is strained.

“But, Q, you don’t want to bring us there. We’re not like the rest. We’ll just get memberships somewhere else.”

“And once word got back to my dad that I’m training two guys somewhere else, how do you think that would go over?”

“Still, you don’t have to.”

Quinn stands up. “I know. But I want to. He doesn’t exactly believe in me, so . . .”

Quinn’s obviously putting his neck out for us. Or is he just trying to prove something to his dad?

“Quinn, man, that’s awesome,” Ollie says.

“Truth,” I agree.

Q smiles, but then his face clouds. “Is that Ella?”

We turn, and sure enough, Ella’s wobbling toward us. Her hair’s askew as are her clothes. She laughs and yells, “Hey guys!”

We wave, but each of us tenses. She pulls up to us.

“So, she kept her word,” Ella says, and she sounds like she’s downed four or five Monsters.

We all shrug.

“Taleana. Look.” Ella holds up her hand and the middle finger she used to flip off Alva’s girlfriend is bent to the side, overlapping her index finger. “I would say that is definitely broken.”

I look past Ella, at the swirl of bros and their families arriving. They’re greeted by Callaghan, and then move along to the booster tent, filled with shirts, bumper stickers, water bottles, and more paraphernalia than any other sport here. Inside is Mallory with his reluctant smile and cash register.

Three cop cars roll up, and the police jump out. They band together around Callaghan, and then Mallory, who comes out of the booth to shake their hands. There’s a lot of back slapping and laughing.

Shit is majorly broken around here.