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Authors: C. Kennedy

Omorphi (74 page)

BOOK: Omorphi
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Everyone offered quiet thanks.

“Mrs. Thomas?”

“Yes, Michael?”

“Are we in trouble?”

She whispered “no” and left the room.

Jake held his hand up for a high five, and Michael slapped it lightly. “Then this has to be about being queer.”

“Then I wouldn’t be here, bro.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, Jake.”

Everyone laughed softly.

Headmaster Sullivan entered the conference room followed by Detective Davis, Mrs. Thomas, and Nero Santini.

“Papa?”

“Wait a moment, Jacob. Mr. Sullivan has some things to say.” Nero, Detective Davis, and Mrs. Thomas took seats at the table, but Headmaster Sullivan remained standing.

“I apologize for calling you into the office so abruptly, but we’ve encountered a… difficult situation. Unfortunately, we can no longer permit your private security on school grounds, and we’re working to find a way to ensure that all of you are safe and secure while you’re here.”

Everyone waited for him to continue and when he didn’t, Michael eyed Nero first, then Detective Davis. “Now that Jason is out of the picture, we should be okay.”

Nero and the Detective remained mute.

“There is the matter of Duncan Ferguson and, unfortunately, I would be remiss if I wasn’t concerned about other students’ perceptions and potential activities.”

Lisa sat forward in her seat. “We’re always getting hassled by somebody, Headmaster Sullivan. The only time it’s a real problem is when someone gets violent.”

Headmaster Sullivan gave her a genuine smile. “That’s very generous of you, Lisa. However, you know we can’t tolerate any sort of discrimination, bullying, and the like here at school.”

“Why can’t you allow our security on school grounds? They haven’t done anything wrong, have they?” Michael asked.

“No, they haven’t. It is for reasons of liability. The school board won’t permit it. We’ve added a second campus security guard.”

Detective Davis spoke next. “We’ve temporarily added a second school liaison officer on campus as well.”

Jake looked at his dad. “I think we’ll be okay.”

“There is another matter, Jacob.”

Detective Davis withdrew several Polaroid photographs from his breast pocket and passed them to Jake.

Nero continued. “School security found your lockers in this condition last night after you left the campus.”

Everyone leaned in, anxious to see the pictures. Everyone’s lockers had been vandalized in various ways. Spray paint, eggs, used condoms, feces, and some things that were unidentifiable, but it was Michael’s locker that suffered the worst. Large knives impaled the thin metal door, and “You’re Dead” graced it in black spray paint.

Despite the icy chill that zinged up Michael’s spine, he kept things light for Christy’s sake. “Oh, that’s attractive.”

Christy swore softly in Greek. Stephen and Jerry leaned over and looked at the picture. “Holy crap!” Jerry exclaimed as Stephen whistled softly under his breath.

“What the fuck?” Lisa said boldly.

“Language,” Headmaster Sullivan scolded.

“Sorry, sir, but that’s just harsh.”

“Seriously salty,” George agreed.

“Let me see.” Jorge reached a hand out for the picture and swore softly in Spanish when he saw it.

Michael studied Detective Davis for a long moment before turning to Headmaster Sullivan. “Nothing on the cameras?”

“The only thing visible is a masked, gloved person.”

“One person did all this?” Stephen was incredulous.

“Yes.”

Jake met his dad’s eyes. “Why the special attention to Michael’s locker?”

“We have no way of knowing,” Nero said solemnly.

Headmaster Sullivan spoke again. “We’ve removed your belongings from your lockers and placed them here.” He gestured to the far end of the conference room. “While we recognize that it’s inconvenient for you, we’d prefer that you not use lockers at this time.”

“I might be late to some classes if I have to walk all the way over here to get my books. I have a lot of classes out in the bungalows,” George said.

“We’ve taken care to notify all of your professors of the circumstances. That won’t be a problem. It goes without saying that we’d like you to be vigilant while you’re on campus.”

Michael collected the photographs and pushed them across the table to Nero. “Sure. Who’s absent from school today?”

“Why do you ask, Michael?”

“Look at the picture of my locker. There’s a bloody handprint on the upper left side of it, sort of going into the next locker. Someone has an injured left hand.”

Detective Davis quickly picked up the photograph and studied it, and Headmaster Sullivan asked Mrs. Thomas to get the attendance printout for the day. She returned within moments. “Forty-three absences.”

“Can I see the list?” Michael asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” Headmaster Sullivan answered.

“I’d like a copy of that report,” Detective Davis said.

Headmaster Sullivan handed the printout to him.

“Boys.” Nero paused. “My apologies. Ladies and gentlemen—”

Jake laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Papa. Everybody’s cool.”

As Nero began, Christy interrupted him, speaking in Greek. To Michael, his words sounded angry, challenging. Nero replied in Greek, his words sounding no less angry than Christy’s.

“English, Papa,” Jake interrupted.

Nero spoke in Italian to Jake, clearly putting him in his place. Jake threw his hands up impatiently and shook his head but refrained from comment.

“What are you guys speaking?” George asked.

“Christy’s Greek,” Jerry piped up. “I think that was Greek, right, Christy?”

Christy nodded without taking his angry eyes from Nero.

“You guys were speaking Italian,” Jorge motioned to Jake and Nero.

“May I know what you said?” Detective Davis asked politely.

Nero gestured to Christy to speak.

“I said to
Kýrios
Santini I am concerned about the people who… committed the crimes on me.”

“Against,” Michael corrected softly as he put an arm around Christy and one-arm hugged him. “Against you.”

Headmaster Sullivan cleared his throat. “My understanding is that those crimes were committed in Greece.”

“The people can come here,” Christy said softly.

“More than one person did that to your neck?” Jerry asked impolitely.

Christy said nothing.

Ignoring Jerry’s question, Lisa asked, “They aren’t in jail?” She was clearly astounded by the news.

It was Nero’s turn to throw his hands up and scold Christy in Greek.

Christy slammed his fist on the table, and everyone jumped. “
Ne!

CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

 

 

N
ERO
breathed deeply before he spoke again. “Christy would like me to tell all of you something. The information is incredibly delicate and must be held in the strictest of confidence. He believes all of you can be trusted to keep it to yourselves, not to be shared with any friend, boy or girlfriend, family member, etc.” Nero met everyone’s eyes, one by one, around the table.

Michael looked at Christy, more than a little surprised. “You sure, babe?”

Christy met his eyes. “You accept me. You are my friend. These are my friends. They will accept me too.”

“What do you want them to know?”

Christy whispered into Michael’s ear.

“Okay.” Michael turned to Nero. “Do you want me to tell them?”

“I am not comfortable with this, Michael,” Nero said sternly.

“Neither am I, but it’s what Christy wants. Everybody, listen up. You can’t tell a soul this. Everyone has to give Christy their word that they won’t say anything. And if you give him your word, you can’t take it back. He takes it seriously.”

“Word,” Lisa said quickly. “Word” came from everyone’s lips around the table.

“You sure?” Michael asked Christy one last time.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Michael glanced at Nero, who looked pained. “Christy was abused by multiple people in Greece. He hasn’t been strong enough to give the Greek police a statement, so they haven’t been prosecuted yet. They are very wealthy, powerful people, and Christy is afraid some of them might come here to get him. To take him back to Greece. They don’t want him to testify against them. They are also very dangerous, and he’s afraid the person who did this to our lockers is one of those people. He wants you to know this so you know to be extra careful.”

Christy whispered into his ear again, and Michael shook his head. “Not necessary.” Christy whispered again. It was Michael’s turn to whisper into Christy’s ear. “No. It’ll lead to other problems.”

Christy sat back in his chair, thoughtful.

Lisa leaned forward and looked around Michael at Christy. “We got your back, Christy. Don’t doubt that for a minute, but can I ask a question?”

Christy nodded.

“How do a bunch of people get away with abusing the same teen?”

“They hold me as the prisoner for a long time,” Christy said softly.

Jerry jumped up from his seat. “Oh, that’s just fucked-up sick!”

“Jerry!” Michael snapped.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Christy. Shoot, sorry. I’m really sorry.” Jerry retook his seat. “Sorry.”

“He’s exercising his freedom to swear for the first time in his life. Sorry for the outburst,” Stephen apologized for Jerry.

“It’s okay. Jerry can have this opinion. I share it with him,” Christy said softly.

It was Jorge’s turn to speak. “I’m sorry, Christy. No one should have to go through what you went through, and we’ll keep the information on the down low. Can you tell us what to look for?”

“Thank you for the apology, Jorge. It is kind of you. Try to watch for the people who follow you, who bump into you, who mumble but don’t speak because they don’t know English. These will be the manservants of these people. Run from them quickly.”

“You mean goons?” Detective Davis asked brusquely.

Nero quickly translated, and Christy nodded. “They are the people who do the deeds of the people they work for.”

“We got it under control, Christy. Thanks for telling us,” George said sweetly.

“You are welcome. I am worried about these people, and I do not want you to be hurt because of me.”

Headmaster Sullivan shook his head, discouraged. “It’s unfortunate that we’re unable to allow your private security on campus, Mr. Santini.”

“It is,” Nero agreed.

“Where will they be?” Jake asked.

“There will be one security vehicle parked on each side of the campus.” Nero dug in his breast pocket and withdrew several business cards. He scribbled a telephone number on the back of each card and handed them out. “This is the direct phone number to them. Make sure it is programmed into each of your phones.”

“We don’t have phones, Mr. Santini,” Jerry said.

“We who?”

“Stephen and me. Our parents won’t let us have them.”

“I’ll see that you have phones by the end of the day.”

“Thanks, Mr. Santini, but I can’t,” Stephen said quickly. “My dad’s already on the edge about things, and I don’t want to do anything to make it worse.”

“I’ll speak to him. What is his telephone number?”

Stephen rattled off the number.

“Does anyone have questions?” Nero asked.

Michael looked around the table. “I think we’re good. Can they call you if they get hassled?”

“Who would give them a hard time, Michael?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Just in case of something.”

Nero’s brow knitted. “Of course. I should have everyone’s parents’ names and telephone numbers. And I should probably have all of your cellular numbers.”

Mrs. Thomas quickly put a piece of lined paper on the table in front of George and handed her a pen. She scribbled her parents’ names and numbers, her cellular number, and passed it to Jorge. As the paper went around the table, Headmaster Sullivan concluded the meeting, and Mrs. Thomas passed out attendance slips excusing them from the morning class they’d missed.

Michael, Christy, and Jake hung back to speak with Nero and Detective Davis.

“Why did you not tell them who I am, Michael?” Christy looked up at him.

“What difference would it make if they knew?”

“It’s better that he didn’t tell them, Christy. People get weird about wealth sometimes. It sort of paints a bull’s-eye on your chest,” Jake offered.

Christy seemed to mull this over. “Okay.” He eyed the detective for a long moment, and then turned to Nero and spoke in Greek.

“He knows who you are. He’s known since the incident with Jason at the restaurant,” Nero answered honestly.

Christy looked at Detective Davis with fierce eyes. “What do you think of me?”

Detective Davis breathed a long, slow breath. “I think what happened to you is a hideous and terrible crime. I wish I could arrest everyone who hurt you.”

“You do not blame me?”

“Why would I blame you?”

“You are not angry because my father is dead?”

Detective Davis frowned. “Why would I be?”

“Because he was powerful.”

Detective Davis pursed his lips. “Doesn’t matter how powerful he was, Christy. He was a bad man.”

Michael winced and rubbed his forehead. “The first time Christy walked down the street in Greece, people evaded him. They moved to the other side of the street. One person hit him with a newspaper and then threw it at him.”

Nero swore softly in Italian.

“I assure you, that won’t happen here.”

“You should not say such things. You cannot control the actions of others.”

Detective Davis gave him a thin smile. “True, but I can look to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“You are generous for a rude police officer.”

Now Detective Davis smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Take care of yourselves, and call if you need anything.” He shook hands with Nero and headed away.

“Anything else, Papa?”

“No, Jacob. Simply be vigilant.”

“You got it. Let’s get to class.”

 

 

“H
EY
,
Gav, Noah. Welcome back. It’s great to see you.” Michael half slapped, half shook their hands when they met at their lunch table.

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