Brutal Youth (12 page)

“What is it exactly that you wanted?” she asked as the Groughs recoiled, but there was nowhere for them to go. Around the other bushes, a coterie of Audra’s senior girl-squad stepped forward: Allissa Hardawicky, Sandra Burk, Amy Hispioli. The Groughs were surrounded, speechless—and frightened.

“From this point on, you don’t talk to the freshmen, you don’t look at the freshmen, and you don’t let your stinking, fat-ass carcasses bother
this
freshman in particular,” Audra said, throwing her arm around Lorelei’s shoulder and squeezing her close, which stung around the younger girl’s hidden bruise, but felt good all the same.

The Grough sisters backed away, like vampires confronted with garlic and crucifixes. Audra jabbed her index finger in Mary’s plump belly. “St. Michael’s hazing tradition is about having fun and bonding with the new students—not threatening them, and not forcing them to acquire addictive and illegal products. Do you understand me?”

“I’m sorry,” Mary mumbled over her shoulder. The three burly girls scuttled away, and Audra’s girlfriends followed, chanting a singsong cry of “Sasquatch! Sasquatch!”

Lorelei thanked Audra, again and again, until the older girl told her to stop it. She winked at Lorelei and said: “We Miss St. Mike’s winners need to stick together, don’t we?”

*   *   *

Davidek found Lorelei in the parking lot, where she was waiting for her dad to pick her up. He had leaped out of a Jeep driven by a red-haired older girl and ran over to Lorelei, smiling crazily, his short brown hair standing up in little spikes. His clip-on tie hung crooked on his open collar. He opened a plastic shopping bag. Inside was a brand-new carton of Alpaca cigarettes.

Lorelei stared at it. She didn’t move.

“It’s for you,” he said, and held it out to her, shaking the carton like she was a shy pet he wanted to do a trick.

Lorelei put her hands on the box, stepping forward, her face close to his. He could smell her lip gloss, the fruit-flavored shampoo of her hair. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because you needed it.”

“Do you know how expensive this is?” she asked.

Davidek laughed, a little out of breath, “I do now.”

She demanded to know how he paid for it, and how he got a store to sell it to him.

“Let’s say I found the money. And a guardian angel. Claudia—that red-haired girl, back in the Jeep. She’s eighteen! She has a locker up near mine on the third floor and she’s really cool and I told her and asked if she would buy them for me.” He was talking too fast, excited by it all.

Lorelei stared at the cigarette carton silently. “So let’s
give
it to them,” Davidek said, pulling Lorelei toward the hidden spot behind the yew shrubs. She let him take her.

When they found the space empty, she explained to Davidek what had happened. He looked disappointed, but a little hopeful, too. “The seniors actually helped you?” he said.

“Sounds like one of them helped you, too,” Lorelei answered, and Davidek sort of nodded.

“I guess so, yeah.” Maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

Lorelei put her hands around his, holding the cigarette carton between them. “So what do we do with these now?” she asked. Their eyes locked, and both knew what the other was thinking. Davidek’s hands fumbled at the box, peeling back the plastic cover and lifting open the flaps. He took out a pack and opened it, drawing out one cigarette. The clerk at the convenience store had thrown matches into the bag with the purchase. Davidek struck one.

“Everything they tell you about cigarettes is a lie,” Davidek said, watching the white smoke drift out of Lorelei’s lips. “They say it doesn’t feel good. But this feels great. And they say you don’t look cool smoking, but you look very cool, Lorelei. Beautiful, actually…”

Her eyes glittered at him. He was surprised by his own boldness. She passed the cigarette back to him and he drew in. When it was almost finished, Lorelei said, “But there’s a third thing they tell you about cigarettes, and it’s absolutely true.…” She dropped their shared smoke on the ground, snubbing it under her penny loafer. “This stuff will kill you dead.”

She dropped the rest of the cartoon back into the plastic bag, twisting it shut, then pushed her palms together to crush the carton. “I just saved your life,” she said. “At least … thirty years from now.”

Neither of them knew what to say next. She reached up and brushed his cheek, their faces leaning close—hers serene, his stunned. Their lips were just a few inches apart, and drawing closer. “Thank you,” she said, and closed her eyes.

There was a blast of a horn, and Davidek looked between the shrubs to see his school bus pulling out of the parking lot and into the street. A bunch of kids were hanging out the windows, calling his name. “That you?” Lorelei asked.

Davidek’s head swiveled back and forth between her and the bus. He still had time to catch it, but … but … “Better go,” Lorelei said.

Davidek waved as he ran off to the yellow school bus, which stopped at the corner, waiting for a red light. “Thanks for saving my life,” he said.

Lorelei watched him go. He looked different to her somehow. “Same to you,” she said.

TEN

“There’s going to be trouble today,” the pudgy sophomore told them. “You should be a smart guy, not a tough guy. Stay out of sight. Don’t give anybody an excuse.”

His name was Carl LeRose. (“You know … Carl LeRose?” he had said, introducing himself to Davidek at Stein’s locker, and looking hurt when that hadn’t seemed to mean much to the two freshman boys.) He was only a year older, but had the aura of an unhealthy middle-aged man—thickset, with a slump to his shoulders and a paunch that bulged taut against the bottom of his white shirt, raising his blue-and-red striped tie away from his belt. A watch that might have cost a few months’ salary for most people in the Valley dangled around his wrist. His blue blazer was a little too small for him.

“Are you threatening us?” Stein asked, and LeRose sputtered, “No, no … why would I … Don’t you … don’t you guys
know
me?”

The freshmen looked at each other. They had seen LeRose around, here and there, always on the periphery of things, too low to matter much, too hungry for attention to keep to himself. This was the first he’d ever spoken to them, though.

LeRose blinked at the two boys. “Mom and Dad said you would know me.”

Stein shrugged. “I guess
Mom and Dad
overestimated their little boy’s popularity.”

LeRose shook his chunky face in frustration, then bent in half, aiming the top of his head at them and digging thick fingers through his heavily moussed hair until he exposed a bare split of bright white scar, roughly an inch long, shaped like a jagged half moon. Stein began snapping his fingers excitedly, his eyes wide. “Holy shit! Davidek, it’s the kid from the parking lot! This is the kid who got his brains knocked out!”

LeRose turned his face sideways. “Were you there?” he asked, and Stein immediately mellowed.

“Yeah, I was there. Sort of.”

“Stein doesn’t like to kiss and tell,” Davidek said, expecting a laugh from his friend, but it made Stein shoot him a serious look.

LeRose’s face lit up. “Kiss and tell? Are you—are you the one who planted one on Bromine? I heard that rumor, but … was that for real?”

Stein shook his head and said, “No, that wasn’t … That didn’t happen.”
One trick to getting away with something,
Stein explained to Davidek later,
was to know that bragging equals confessing.

LeRose’s face sank in disappointment. He looked to Davidek to see what was true and what wasn’t. Davidek followed Stein’s lead. “Nah, urban legend, man. Sorry.” He stuck his hand out and the sophomore shook it. “Nice to meet you,” Davidek said. “I guess the first time, we didn’t really
meet
meet.”

LeRose nodded gravely. “I’d have come around and introduced myself sooner, but Dad said I should wait a couple weeks to talk to you.”

“Your dad tells you who you can talk to?” Stein asked, his face wrinkled.

“No,”
LeRose shot back. “He wants me to help you out, but … it doesn’t look so good for a sophomore to buddy-up right away to a freshman, you know?” LeRose lowered his voice and leaned close. “So keep quiet about what I tell you guys, all right?” he said, reluctantly including Stein in the confidentiality. “The seniors are planning this
thing
.… I don’t know how it’ll go down, but it’s getting tense around here. A lot of people are getting in trouble, getting yelled at and stuff. Stupid things, you know? Holding hands with their girlfriends gets them detention. You believe that?”

“Criminal,” Stein said.

“Everything we do is under a goddamned microscope these days. So, okay—all those little shoves in the hall and shit? It’s going to get a lot worse. Just lie low. Word to the wise.”

“How bad does all this initiation stuff get over the year?” Davidek asked him.

LeRose rolled his hunched shoulders back and forth. “It can get ugly, I won’t lie—but you live. I can be your eyes and ears, okay? Just don’t tell anyone where you hear stuff from.”

With that, LeRose started to slip off, but Davidek reached out and took his sleeve. “Can I ask you something else … about that day? The kid on the roof?” Stein rolled his eyes.

LeRose said, “Yeah?”

“Whatever happened to that guy?”

“Hopefully he’s somebody’s prison bitch right now,” LeRose said. “But he’s probably just undergoing bullshit ‘mental therapy’ or something, eating pills and finding butterflies in inkblots all day.”

“So why was the story in the newspaper all watered down?” Davidek asked.

LeRose’s face was a mix of awkwardness and pride. “That would be my dad,” he said. “Dad’s got influence, you know. He’s tight with the cops, tight with the church, tight with the city page editor, too. A story like that was bad for the school. So Dad …
fixed
it.” LeRose’s fat fingers twinkled in the air like it was a magic trick. “Dad loves this school.… One of those ‘Glory Days’ kind of things, I guess.”

“Glory hole?” Stein asked, but before it could register on their new friend, Davidek said: “Thanks for filling us in, Carl.”

LeRose gave a nod as he backed away. “Remember, keep a low profile today. My advice: Be cool, go along with all the goofy stuff—and try to make nice.”

“That’ll work?” Davidek called after him.

“It worked for me,” LeRose said, drifting away amid the flow of other students. “And I’m somebody you’re glad to know, right?”

*   *   *

LeRose’s warning came true that afternoon.

Restlessness had been brewing among the upperclassmen. Michael Crawford, the handsome senior who had overseen the Miss St. Mike’s pageant, began spreading word through his friends that there would be some punishment doled out to the freshmen during lunch, to let off a little steam. Yeah, the faculty was busting balls, but what kind of legacy would their oppressed senior class leave if nobody did any goddamned
initiating
?

Audra Banes intended to personally supervise the stunt they had planned. As student council president, she didn’t want anything getting out of hand, and had been warned by Sister Maria that church elders were taking careful note of aberrant behavior. Any unsavoriness would reflect badly on class officers when it came time to write college scholarship recommendations. Also, Crawford was her boyfriend and he had assured her there would be nothing to worry about. She trusted him, and she was an excellent judge of character.

Audra got Lorelei to tell the freshmen not to panic, that things weren’t going to be bad. “This’ll be fun,” Audra said. And Lorelei believed her.

“They’re just trying to trick us. Why should we listen to you?” asked Zari, one of many classmates Lorelei tried to persuade to ignore the fearmongers and venture out of the safety of the cafeteria and into the parking lot during recess. Zari’s resentment for Lorelei had become difficult to hide. With all the attention Lorelei received from the popular seniors and the other boys in the class, why was she still toying with Stein? Zari was ready to make her move on him, if only this preppy girl with the odd eyebrows would get out of the way.

“From what I’ve been told, it’s just a big game. And I was assured by Audra Banes, who is the senior class president, and who is also my friend,” Lorelei responded, with more pride than she intended.

“Sounds like you’re one of them,” Zari said, but the others trusted Lorelei, so she did, too.

*   *   *

In the parking lot during lunch break, Michael Crawford grinned his game show–host smile and declared into his girlfriend’s cheerleader megaphone: “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to St. Michael’s Best in Show competition!”

The older boys who were in the know clapped and pumped their fists in the air while making
woof-woof
dog barking sounds, while the rest of the school closed in around the freshmen like the iris of a camera lens.

Stein found his way over to Davidek and Green, who had come out from the cafeteria only to placate Lorelei. “You guys see her?” Stein asked, but Lorelei was over with Audra and the other seniors—outside the pack of surrounded freshmen.

“You!” Michael Crawford shouted, pointing at Davidek, Green, and Stein. Davidek backed away, but Green stepped forward voluntarily. Stein tried to pull him back, but Green smiled fearlessly as he was pulled into the middle of the jeering crowd.

Crawford slapped a hand on Green’s meaty back and asked into the megaphone: “So, what kind of dog are you?”

Green just laughed; then he leaned over to the mouthpiece of the megaphone and declared, “I’m a
horn
-dog!” Even though his skin was as dark as coffee, Green was blushing and the whole crowd was laughing along with him.

“And how does a horn-dog go?” Crawford asked, and Green gave a long, high howl. When he was finished, the seniors held his arms in the air like he was a prizefighter.

“Doesn’t seem so bad,” Davidek said to Stein, who remained unconvinced.

That’s when Richard Mullen, aka Asshole Face, and his buddy Frank Simms, got into the act.