They keep the lockdown all through the night. Muffins and milk cartons are brought to each room for breakfast. When they finally lift the lockdown at lunchtime, I’m escorted from the medical room to a private room, with my lunch.
Jackson is waiting. “What the hell, Kevin?”
“Okay, before you blast me, hear me out. You were right. About everything. You figured out Wired and his sister right away. I was too stupid and too blind to see it. They scammed me. They set me up. The only good thing is that Larkyn didn’t plant something on me before I flew out of the visitors’ area.” I feel steamed all over again. Instead of sitting to eat my lunch, I pace the room. Jackson motions for me to sit down, but I’m too fired up.
“But why pick a fight with Wired?” asks Jackson. “You should know better. He’s the most protected guy in here. And now you have the bruises to prove it.”
I reach up to my face. I have a cut lip and a welt forming under my eye. My groin still aches and my arm feels like it was twisted in a vice grip.
“Larkyn. She played me. They both did. I thought she really wanted to meet me. That she was into me. But it was all a plan to get contraband in through me. Use Strider. You know, the guy who only ever has one visitor. Nobody will be checking things on his watch. Who would come to see him, anyway?”
“Pity really doesn’t look good on you. I’m not going to say what I’m thinking. You already figured things out. But I was hoping I was wrong. It’s a crappy way to find out that some people will always be players. They’re out for themselves and you got caught in the middle.”
“Yeah, well, it was good timing. I needed that wake-up call to put me back on track. I don’t want to see any visitors — not even my dad. I don’t care about early parole. Just let me go back to the way things were. Slow and easy.”
“Your dad and Aisha are still important. Don’t let what happened with Larkyn ruin your chances for early probation. Right now things look bad. But sort this out and get back on track. Your request might still be accepted by the board.”
“It’s not my request. It never has been. You seem to think I’m ready. Well, I’m not.”
“Hang on,” Jackson sighs. “Strummer nicknamed you Strider, right? I thought you said you watched the movies?”
“I did.”
“Then how did you miss the biggest part of Strider’s character? The fact that he doesn’t give up. Everything is against him. Nothing comes easy. He has to work his butt off, but he stays the course. He does the time. And in the end it works out and he gets everything he wants.”
“But what about all the shit that happens on the way to getting what he wants?”
“That’s called life. I’ll say it again, Kevin. You’re a good kid. You can make this work. Especially if you start believing in yourself the way I do.”
Good to know that at least one person is on my side.
Even though everyone else is off lockdown, I am held in my room for two extra days. Collins says it’s for my safety. I’ve been eating my meals in my room and haven’t had any visitors. But since I have to write the History exam, they will be letting me join the others again.
I have lots of time to study. But I don’t crack the spine of the book. Not even when Roberts visits me in my room to help me prepare for the test. I rip up the song I was working on for Wired’s sister. The only thing I put any effort into finishing is Strummer’s song. Strummer never let me down.
Then I knock off some ideas for a song of my own. For the chorus, I capture thoughts about being played. Being stupid.
But I don’t get to share my lyrics with Sean, because the writing group is cancelled for today. Everyone else is back in the main space, but I guess they didn’t want to chance another incident. So no one gets to enjoy the writing session.
Because of me.
The only good thing about being on lockdown by myself is that my bruises, inside and out, get a bit of time to heal. I think the bruises on the outside are faring better than the other ones.
I saunter down the hall to the classroom where we’ll take the exam. I think about what I’ll say to Wired. But as I near the door, two Diablos catch up to me.
The big dude talks first. At the sound of his voice, my hand flies toward my throat. He must be the jerk who choked me.
“Wired needs to pass the test today,” he says. “And you’ll make it happen. Then you will meet his sister.” He spots Collins coming down the hall. “Oh, and good luck with the exam.”
I shake my head and go to the classroom. No one is in the room yet. I grab a spot against the far wall. In seconds, a flurry of movement indicates that others have arrived. I feel a swoosh beside me. Wired slides into the seat. He winks at me and waits for the exams to be handed out. Roberts gives us a pep talk on how he knows we’ll all do well. Then he tells us we can turn over the page and begin. We get one hour.
The first part is multiple choice. I don’t want to be too obvious about failing. So I calculate how many I can get wrong and still look like I put in an effort. I make sure Wired can copy me.
I’m going to fail and so is he. That’s payback.
The next part is short-answer questions. That’s also tricky. Wired looks lost as he tries to read my sentences. I give him a look. He isn’t getting it.
“Dude, you can’t copy my words exactly,” I whisper. “They’ll know you cheated.”
“Or they’ll know you cheated,” Wired hisses back. “I can tell them I saw you copying my page.”
I stifle a laugh. That’s pretty funny. Wired doesn’t look amused.
As I quietly say an answer, Roberts looks our way. Did he hear me? I put my head down and scribble out a sentence. I go on to the next question and then the next before I look up again. Roberts is back to marking our final papers. Now Wired’s face is full of panic.
I whisper a sentence for question number two. Then number three. He’ll only have one- sentence answers. But that isn’t my problem. I don’t want him to pass. But I don’t want to face his bodyguards, either.
Suddenly, Roberts gets up from his seat. He walks straight for us. I freeze. My pen shakes in my hand. But he passes by us and wanders through the room. Guess he’s just checking on everyone’s progress.
The last part of the test is a full essay question, where we have to write 500 words. I dig in and forget that I meant to fail. The stuff is everything I studied when I was into Larkyn. I remember it clearly. It feels good writing the answers. Wired begs for help with his eyes. I whisper three sentences and then say, “I’m done. You’re on your own.”
I take my exam to Roberts and plop it on his desk. Wired follows me. He couldn’t have written the final essay question that fast. He really didn’t pay attention to any of the stuff we did in class. Now I panic. The dudes who harassed me on the way in will be waiting to hear how things went. I guess I’m going to have to face Larkyn. Otherwise it won’t matter how I did on the exam. I’ll be getting my results from a hospital bed.
Then I’m sent back to my room for the rest of the day.