Risen Page 6

  I feel my stomach tightening and my legs weakening. Please god; don’t let this turn into a brawl right now, I pray. But prayer has never been my strong suit and I don’t imagine god listens to people who only pray when they need something for themselves.

  Jay stands in the middle of the hallway like he owns it. “Some freshman kid says you’re threatening him.”

  Diaz is in no mood. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Relax, I’m just making conversation.”

  “You better keep walking unless you want to be picking your teeth up off the floor.”

  Jay doesn’t seem too concerned. He scratches his cheek and yawns.

  I try not to look at Nate’s friend, but he’s staring at me like a dog ready to feast on a pile of chicken bones.

  “The freshman kid—“ Jay starts in again.

  “I told you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “He seems pretty scared. In fact, he gave me a hundred bucks to have a chat with you.”

  “Sounds like a real idiot.”

  “I’ll give you fifty to leave the kid alone,” Jay says.

  I’m surprised. If I’m surprised, Nate and his shady friend are nearly speechless.

  “You’re giving me fifty bucks?” Nate’s eyes are wide. For a moment, he seems almost human.

  “Right. I figure you might as well get half. And then everyone’s happy.”

  “Is this a joke or something?”

  “Easy money.” Jay takes one of the big bills out and extends his hand to Nate, who hesitates, then finally grabs it and stuffs it quickly into his front pocket.

  “This is that skinny kid with glasses we’re talking about?” Nate says. “Looks like Harry Potter?”

  “That’s him.”

  Nate laughs. “What a tool. I might still kick his ass, just because it would be hilarious if he paid you a hundred bucks for nothing.”

  Jay stops smiling. “You touch that kid and me and you will have a major problem.”

  “Right, right.” Nate laughs again and starts walking away.

  I’m not sure what to do, I’m just relieved that they’re leaving and this incident is over. I haven’t dared to even take a breath for the last two minutes.

  But one look at Jay’s face and I realize it isn’t over. Suddenly he springs forward and grabs Nate from behind, wrapping one of his heavily muscled arms around Nate’s skinny neck.

  When Nate’s friend acts like he’s going to do something, Jay shoots him a look.

  “I can handle both of you, just try me, scumbag.”

  Jay has this weird grin on his face and his eyes are daring Nate’s friend to try something. Jay would really enjoy fighting both of them at once, I think. Right about now I’m just glad that I’m on Jay’s side because when he gets like this, he could do almost anything—break Nate’s neck or bash this other kid’s head into the wall.

  I remember a time he got that way with me. We’d been playing Halo and I beat him for the third time in a row, started giggling a little when I won. Suddenly I felt his forearm across my neck and then before I knew what was happening he’d pinned me down on the couch and was screaming in my face. “You think that’s funny? HUH?

  HUH?”

  Jay finally calmed down after I’d apologized but I knew it had been really close.

  He’d wanted to hurt me and just barely restrained himself. He’d had the exact same look in his eye that day as he does right now.

  The conviction in Jay’s voice and the look on his face makes Nate’s friend reconsider. He stands there, not sure what to do. “Let him go, Stevens,” he says, but it’s not very authoritative.

  Nate makes some gurgling noises as Jay applies more pressure to his neck. “See, I was being nice but you had to try and be a tough guy.” Jay gives another hard squeeze that makes Nate cough and choke. “How’s that feel, huh? Is it worth having your neck snapped to impress your retarded friend?”

  Now Nate sounds like a cat trying to cough up a hairball.

  A moment later, Jay releases him, and Nate staggers to the wall. He leans against it. “My fucking neck. Jesus.” His voice cracks in pain and fear. “Just leave me alone, okay?” He coughs and gasps. His eyes are closed and he looks to be in pain. “Oh, fuck.

  It hurts.”

  “You’re fine, tough guy. You’re gonna be okay,” Jay replies. “And if you do need to go to the emergency room, you’ll have fifty bucks to pay for it.”

  Jay walks off and I make sure to keep up with him. I don’t even utter a word because part of me thinks that when he’s in this mood, I might not be totally safe either.

  By the afternoon, news of the scuffle has circulated throughout the school and everyone’s buzzing about it. A few random freshmen even come up and ask me to verify it.

  “You were there, right? Is Jay Stevens really a black belt in jiu-jitsu?”

  “I heard he got him in a rear-naked choke, like it was the UFC.”

  I just shrug. “Don’t bring me into this, I have no idea.”

  But it’s a different story when Candice spots me getting a drink from the water fountain right before last period. She’s alone, which is rare for a girl like her who usually is surrounded by a cadre of cackling hyenas at all times.

  “Hey, what’s your name—“ she says, tossing her red hair over one shoulder.

  I straighten up and wipe my dribbling mouth with the back of my hand. “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Richard? Richie? Dick?”

  “Tim. Richardson.”

  “Oh, right.” She comes closer still. “Is it true? Did Jay get in a fight with my cousin?”

  “Jay just kind of put him in a choke hold and made him gag a little.” I pretend to be Jay and demonstrate how he strangled Nate with one arm.

  She looks really annoyed for a moment, but then it changes into a little smile.

  “Guess little Nate probably had it coming,” she says.

  “Yeah. He kind of did.”

  “And what did you do while this was all going on?”

  “I just watched. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You seem like the type who jumps right into danger.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of sarcastic?” I say, wiping my bangs away from my forehead.

  “Don’t be so sensitive, Richie.”

  “It’s Tim, thanks.” I try not to fixate on her lips, how they seem glossy and wet, especially because I don’t really like her or her cousin.

  “Right.” She smiles. “Well, you might want to tell Jay that starting shit with Nate isn’t such a great plan. I mean, he might be able to kick Nate’s ass but I don’t think he wants to get into it with Joe.”

  “Joe?”

  “Nate’s older brother?” she says, smiling wider. “He just got out of prison a month ago for assaulting a police officer.”

  I try not to laugh in her face. She seems like one of those girls who are always trying to prove they know more than you do. Even if it means just making stuff up.

  “That sounds serious.” I can’t totally keep the disbelief out of my voice. “I’ll definitely let Jay know. He’ll probably want to do something to cool things off.”

  “Oh?”

  “Jay’s big on writing letters to people.” I remember the line he wrote about Candice earlier today and now I can’t help it…my mouth breaks into a wide smile.

  “Letters.” She gets a puzzled, slightly mistrustful look on her face.

  “The old fashioned kind. Quill pens, ink, an official wax seal, the whole nine yards. I’ll have him write something to Nate as an apology for what happened.”

  “Real funny,” Candice says, her eyes narrowing. “You think I’m a total idiot?”

  “I don’t know you enough to say either way.”

  “Well I’m not, so let me give you some free advice. Don’t play the game unless you’re ready to pay the price, know what I mean?”

  I stuff my hands in my pocke
ts. “Like I said, we’ll be crafting a letter of sincere apology. Tell Nate to be expecting it by pony express sometime next week.”

  She’s staring at me now without a hint of a smile. “Keep making jokes and see where it gets you.”

  “I’m not joking, Candice,” I say, as if shocked at her suggestion. “Sorry you feel that way.”

  “Too bad. You were actually kind of sexy in computer lab today, but turns out you’re not even worth my time.” And then she walks away.

  Sexy? Did she actually say that about me? No one has ever told me anything like that, except in fourth grade when Samantha Edgar told me I looked like Luke Perry. But that was a long time ago.

  I watch Candice leave, doubtful about how I chose to handle that particular conversation.

  QUATTRO (4)

  The next day, things get weird.

  Jay and me are sitting next to one another in Western Civ, it’s the only other class we share.

  Mister Grimes is droning on and on about the jury system and the Supreme Court, and I’m taking notes but my eyes are practically closing. It’s such a dull class, but I’m acing it—a nice boost to my GPA.

  “Richardson,” Jay whispers.

  I glance over at him. He covertly slides his phone out and nods his head at me.

  Types into his phone, then gestures to me.

  Even though it’s technically not allowed and I could get kicked out of class for it, I pull my phone from my backpack and turn it on, remembering to turn the volume all the way down at the last second.

  Mister Grimes is at the blackboard. He’s one of the few teachers who still regularly use a blackboard instead of power point or other computer based presentations.

  His gray hair is greasy and his wrinkled button-down shirt has coffee stains on the shoulder. How on earth he managed to get coffee in that spot is anyone’s guess.

  Jay’s text comes through.

  U ready to get into bizness 2gether??

  My brow furrows. I quickly text him back.

  What business?

  Mister Grimes’s voice continues on without break as I wait for Jay to clarify things.

  “Now, that’s why the president’s appointment to the Supreme Court is so important,” Grimes says. “A Supreme Court Justice can hold that office for a very long time and set quite a bit of precedent. It’s a big responsibility.”

  Jay’s text comes through moments later . Simple. People give u $$$ and u take it.

  Money for what? I respond.

  Not over the phone, he writes back.

  Not over the phone? Then why the hell are we texting in the first place? I wonder. And now I’m so distracted that I don’t hide my phone quickly enough. Mister Grimes seems clueless, but occasionally he’ll surprise you.

  “Excuse me, Mister Richardson.” Grimes looks over at me, one arm still in mid-air holding a piece of white chalk. The chalk dust is smeared on his fingertips. “What is that?”

  I finish zipping up the front pocket of my backpack and drop the bag onto the floor near my feet. “What is what?”

  “That electronic device you just tried to hide, a bit conspicuously might I add. I believe it’s known as a cell phone, and it’s disallowed during class time.”

  “Sorry sir, just…ah….checking the time.”

  A ripple of laughter passes through the room. There’s an enormous clock on the wall, not five feet from where I’m sitting.

  “I’m very serious when it comes to the rules about cellular phones. If it was up to me, they wouldn’t even be allowed in the building. Please go and see Mister McCafferty.”

  “I swear, it won’t happen again. Please don’t kick me out.” I can’t help it, the panic shows in my voice. I’ve never been kicked out of class before.

  Grimes points to the doorway. “Out. Zero tolerance policy, that’s how my classroom works.”

  I stand up, grab my backpack, and walk out. Everyone’s watching me. I can’t even look at Jay, I’m so pissed at him for getting me in trouble.

  Mister McCafferty, the housemaster, probably doesn’t even know who I am.

  When I get to McCafferty’s office, I tell his secretary that I’ve been kicked out of Western Civ for texting.

  She gives me a look over her wire-rimmed glasses. “You know better than that, don’t you?”

  “It was a mistake.”

  She frowns and punches the intercom. “Mister McCafferty, I have a student here for you.”

  I sit down on one of the tiny chairs and try to relax. Isn’t this the story with Jay?

  He somehow finds a way to twist every situation into something negative and dangerous.

  At least, that’s how he used to be and it doesn’t seem like anything has changed much in the meantime.

  It takes awhile for Mister McCafferty to bring me into his office, but finally he does. He’s a tall guy, with red cheeks and a thick sheet of gray hair that falls across his forehead. He occasionally brushes it away as he talks.

  “Have a seat,” he says in a deep voice that almost rumbles, closing the office door behind us.

  My hands are sweating.

  McCafferty’s office is small and smells like coffee. He goes back around his desk and sits. I sit down in one of the two chairs pulled up in front of his desk. There’s a mountain of papers and binders across the desk, forming something of a pyramid.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, leaning back and locking eyes with me.

  “Mister Grimes kicked me out of Western Civ for using my cell.”

  “Everyone knows he’s strict about that sort of thing. And you should know better than to be using your phone in class.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  McCafferty nods. “You’ve never been in my office before, have you?”

  “No--I’m a pretty good student.”

  He smiles. “You seem nervous.”

  “I’m just not used to being in trouble, getting kicked out of class. My parents would kill me.”

  “Nobody’s contacting your parents over this. Consider it a warning. When you’re in Mister Grimes’s class, play by his rules, okay?”

  “Definitely.” I can barely keep the relieved smile off my face.

  “Some teachers are more laid back about this kind of thing, but rules are rules.

  You clearly understand that.”

  “Yes sir.”

  He smiles and sits forward. “Okay, then. Consider this your Get Out of Jail Free Card.”

  “I usually just try and roll sixes.”

  He cocks his head. “Excuse me?”

  “You know, in Monopoly,” I say, smiling to show it’s a joke. “You can either use the Get Out of Jail Free card or you can roll sixes…” I make a pretend dice throw but it’s not happening. My little joke attempt is a flop.

  McCafferty’s mouth twitches as the awkward silence deepens. Then finally he says, “Just keep your nose clean from here on out.”

  “Absolutely.” I take a deep breath and get up to leave.

  “By the way, just because I went easy on you today, don’t let this be the start of us seeing more of one another,” he says, when I reach the door. “I’m only nice the first time.”

  Leaving the office feels like I just got a new lease on life.

  I’ve gotten off easy. I really need to start being more careful. I can’t let Jay drag me into anymore dumb stuff. Mister McCafferty was sending me a message and I want to listen to the message.

  Unfortunately, Jay has different ideas. He’s waiting for me at my locker.

  “Did you catch any shit from McCaffer-crotch?” he says, examining some dirt under his thumbnail as he leans against the metal doors.

  “Not really.”

  “Good.”

  “But I did get kicked out of class. No more texting in Western Civ for me.”

  “Grimes is such a bitch about technology. That guy must have been born on the Mayflower.”

  I just look at him. “Whatever. I just can’t go
getting in any more trouble. So this new business plan you’ve got, leave me out of it.”

  Jay’s eyes are suddenly flat and unfriendly. “Okay Richardson. See you later, then.” He starts off.

  Suddenly I realize what I’ve done. The last thing I need is for Jay to hate me. As much as I don’t want to get in trouble, I also don’t want Jay to despise me.

  What if Nate comes after me again? I’d be on my own.

  I run to catch up with Jay before he gets too far.

  “Jay.”

  He’s pissed now.

  “Jay,” I say again.

  “What.”

  “Sorry if I was being a baby about getting kicked out of class.”

  “Nah, Richardson. You made your point. You enjoy being a straight-A student and getting into MIT. Have a fun life.”

  I’m surprised by how desperate I feel to have him not be mad at me anymore.

  “Dude, I don’t give a shit, okay? I don’t care about Grimes. The guy’s a total idiot. I was in a bad mood for a second but I’m over it.”

  Jay stops walking and looks at me. “Don’t take that shit out on me.”

  “So what’s the thing you were texting me about?” I ask, wanting to make him happy again.

  “I don’t know, Richardson.” He waves to one of the little girl groupies walking by.

  “Come on, I’m curious.”

  “But we might get in trouble,” he whines, mimicking me—but making me sound like an eight year old girl.

  “Dude, just tell me.”

  He gives me a long, hard stare, as if deciding whether it’s worth it to keep me around anymore. Finally, he must decide that it is. “I talked to Nate Diaz yesterday.”

  “When?”

  “After football practice. I ran into him—anyway, it doesn’t matter when,” he says, waving the question off. “Point is, we’re totally cool now.”

  “That’s good, I guess.” I wait for the rest of it.

  “And so we’re moving into Phase Two of my big plan. And I thought you might want to be part of it.”

  “What’s Phase Two?”

  “Remember when you were saying I was charging that kid for protection?”

  I don’t reply. I’m trying to figure out where this is all going.

  He looks annoyed again. “Well, I’m going to do it. Charge kids for protection.”