Reject High (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 1) (15 page)

Sasha – I wasn’t not sure which one – waved me over to her table. Asia sat there with their circle of friends. That’s the thing about dating a popular, pretty girl – you don’t just date her. You get her friends, too.

I glanced back at Rhapsody, who motioned “go ahead” with her eyes. I’d almost rather eat with Selby than to be with these girls.  

I set my tray down next to Sasha, who continued talking about something fashion-related. Thanks to Debra, this wasn’t actually an uncomfortable conversation for me. She talked to her girlfriends all of the time about how a skirt didn’t fit over her hips the right way. I occupied myself with eating chicken, which wasn’t half bad with enough barbecue sauce on it. No one said anything to me. I’m not the invisible one, but it sure felt like it.   

Right before the end of the period, Sasha put a piece of paper folded into a square into my left back pocket. “Read it later,” she said.

We parted company after lunch. She headed to her math class on the other side of the building from Earth Science. Before I had the chance to pull up a stool, the substitute teacher walked up to me. “Are you Jason Champion?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Here.” She handed me a pass to the principal’s office. 

I dropped my new book bag onto the desk next to Rhapsody and gave her a look before I left. Did she know what I was asking? I wondered if I was as bad at giving hints as I was at taking them.

I waited outside of Welker’s office for all of sixth period and half of seventh. What did he want from me?
The hall pass!
I pulled it from my back pocket. Because I had this, he’d know I cut class. His secretary wasn’t around, so I dropped it in plain sight on her desk. I needed an excuse. Alright, I’d say I had the runs and I forgot to return the pass. Hopefully, he’d buy that excuse. 

Welker’s door was ajar. From where I was, if I leaned over far enough, I could see into the narrow room. There was the corner of his desk. Near that I spotted the tan shirt and dark brown pants of a police officer. Was it Spivey? This was getting bad fast.

Like it or not, I needed help, and Selby could get me out of here. I cursed myself for not asking Rhapsody for his number. If I had it, there’s no guarantee he’d come, especially after last night. Sasha might be able to split herself, but that wouldn’t help, either. 

Leaving town might be my only option. My mother’s family lived somewhere in the south. Maybe one of them would take me in for two years until I turned legal? Maybe not. None of them had volunteered after my mom Anna died, not even Aunt Dee, who had practically raised her.

I’d run away, but nothing about life on the streets screamed “safe” to me, even though I can’t be killed. And if this turned out the way I thought it would, I’ll be at the Black Hole tomorrow. I wanted to talk this out with someone, anyone, but it looked like I’d be on my own.

At the moment, I didn’t know what to do, but I wasn’t going to run anymore. Unlike Ray, I’d face up to my responsibilities. I’d cop to damaging the Cougar, except I’d say I used a sledgehammer I’d hidden somewhere, not my fists. Throwing the car might be a little harder to explain. It was in gear, or I’d just pushed it hard enough to get it moving. Perhaps Ray, the lawyer, would have mercy on me. But if he didn’t, I’d be willing to pay the price.

I remembered Sasha’s note in my back pocket and unfolded it. She wrote, “I believe in you” in large, flowery purple letters.
No one has ever said that to me
.

“I’m here.” That was Rhapsody’s voice, which immediately brought me comfort.

“I am, too,” Sasha said. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I screwed up bad,” I whispered, folding up the note. “Rhapsody, I think Spivey’s in there. Can you poke your head in?”

A depression sank into the seat next to me, and an invisible hand rested on my arm. “Did
I
make you do this? When you left Art, I figured something was wrong, so I reformed.”

“Nobody makes me do anything,” I grumbled.“It’s Spivey,” Rhapsody interrupted from in front of me. “There’s another guy in there, too.”

“Who?” I peeked in, curious. “What’s he look like?”

“You,”
she said. “He looks like you, Jason. I think it’s your dad.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I almost throw my father to Indiana

Ray hadn’t come to my school since the Joey Catagno raisin incident. He let my mom handle stuff like that. Back then his law firm wasn’t that busy.

Tired of waiting, I knocked on the glass and said, “Hello?”

“Jason!” Mr. Welker’s face lit up. “I forgot you were out there. Please, join us.”

Spivey leaned against the office’s left wall, his arms crossed. My father, dressed in a navy blue pinstriped suit, white shirt, and yellow necktie, sat to Welker’s right. He shifted his eyes in my direction. My principal wore a black polo with the school’s initials stitched onto it. I rounded the seat next to Ray and sat.

“Your dad and I were just talking about you,” he said dryly.

Had he told my principal I was a superhero-in-training? “Yeah.”

“He’s here to pick you up. I just cleared it with your stepmom, and it’s okay with me.”

My mind flashed with alarm. Who would protect the source? I wondered if Sasha and Rhapsody were still outside, or if they could hear me. “But - I have dungeon duty today.”

Welker waved his hand and stood. “Your dad persuaded me to make an exception for you. Don’t worry about it. We’ll see you on Monday.” 

He shook Ray’s hand and the two of us got up and left the office. I reluctantly followed him, waving my arms in no particular direction. I didn’t touch either of my friends, but a pair of lips kissed my cheek. They’d heard
everything.

Ray didn’t speak until we cleared the school. He led me to his parking spot in the visitor’s section. In broad daylight, the Cougar looked even worse than I thought. Two busted taillights, a dented-in trunk, and indents the size of my hands on either side of the bumper. Talking about it would make my guilt worse. But if I didn’t, he’d get suspicious. I tried sounding as innocent as possible. “What happened to the car?”

“Vandal,” was his response – short and to the point.

I prodded a little further. “They have security tapes, right?”

“Nope. Blind corner.”

Pressing my luck, I asked one last question. “Do you know who did it?”

He looked me straight in the face. “Get in.”

Sure, I’m invulnerable, but the lack of details from someone who lives and breathes details bothered me.
Why doesn’t he come out and accuse me?
He did it so often when we lived together. I used to think blaming me for everything going wrong was his favorite hobby. The only thing he never accused me of was causing Mom’s bone cancer.

“I’m sorry,” I confessed as I opened the door.

He chuckled. “What for?”

When we shut the doors, I thought he’d key the ignition and speed off. Instead,
he gave me his full attention.
“Sorry, for what happened to the Cougar.”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies. This isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

Funny, I never remembered hearing somebody had punched his car and thrown it three yards before.

“When you do the right thing, Jason, or even the wrong thing, you get enemies.”

That sounded like a wise saying, but it didn’t make much sense. “Then why do anything at all?”

He twisted the key in the ignition, and the engine made the most awful sound when he pressed the gas – like an old, roaring hot rod. I’d almost forgotten what mufflers were for until then.

“You can’t avoid them. Everyone has enemies.” He paused. “The worst ones get close to you and never show themselves until it’s too late.”

I hoped that wasn’t true. “You haven’t picked me up for anything in four years. Why
now?”

We drove out of the parking lot and away from the school – not toward the apartment, but close to the I-48 onramp. “Debra called. As usual, she has no sense of timing. To hear her tell it, you’re one bad decision away from jail. And you’re in an alternative school now for fighting?”

“Where are we going, anyway?”

He shifted the clutch into a higher gear, and the engine groaned even louder. “I’ve told you a thousand times – I don’t care what disorder they tag you with, don’t talk to me like you pay bills.”

“You
don’t pay them, either.” Ray pushed every one of my buttons. If I leapt out of the car right now, I might end up somewhere in Boston.

Surprisingly, he didn’t pop me in the mouth or scold me. He blankly stared ahead, probably because his prized possession sounded like a trash truck.

Veering into an empty parking lot, he popped the clutch into neutral and set the parking brake. “Julia and I are getting married. Since it’s number three for me, it won’t be anything big – just at the courthouse or something. Will you come?”

He sounded gentle, unlike the gigantic jerk I’d known for most of my life. A “yes” would make him happy – “no” meant getting grief about it. “I don’t give a crap,” wouldn’t work, either. Julia was okay, but as far as stepmoms go, Debra got my vote. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure,” he said, not sounding a bit disappointed. “Debra asked me to take you for the summer, maybe longer. I said yes.”

“Why?” He lived
thirty miles
away from home. Sure, transportation wasn’t an issue for me, but that was not the point.
I finally get a girl to like me, and a friend, and now my father wants to claim me?
No way! I’d run away, or even live in the Black Hole with Vivienne Coker.

“You need something more than Debra can give you,” he said, using her reasoning. “And I’m the only thing left for you to try. I won’t be the prosecutor to send you to jail next year.”

In September, right before the anniversary of my mom’s death, I’d turn sixteen. I’d be old enough to be charged as an adult in this state. With my luck, the likelihood of something else epically stupid happening was high. But live with Ray and Julia? I wished Mom was still alive,
especially
now. The way Sasha had looked at me in the mirror this morning reminded me a little of her. Maybe a change of scenery wouldn’t be all that bad for me. But I still didn’t want to go.

During the ride my throat tightened. I thought about confessing, but my history of lying didn’t play in my favor. He was a lawyer, so it wouldn’t end with “I smashed your car.” He’d want to know
why,
and
how,
and
with what.
We’d draw out the timeline, how I got in and out so fast without being seen. Though it chewed me up inside, it was better that he
didn’t
know.

We parked at the curb and entered Pudgy Burger. It was crowded, so he placed our order to go. Where were we going?
His house?
I’d never even seen it. He’d moved out of the place we shared with Mom after she died. Aunt Dee literally dragged me out of my old room. I loved that house. It smelled like flowers, like
her
. My mom had walked through the door smiling every day, even after her really bad chemo days.

They wouldn’t let me say goodbye to her in the hospital, so I imagined her still smiling. Ray insisted on a sealed casket, against my mother’s orders in her will. The Lee side of the family hated him for that.
I
hated him, and I had cried so hard afterwards that something inside of me broke.
He must think he can fix me.

“Dad,” I called him as he grabbed our food.

He whipped around. I’d never called him anything affectionate since I was a little kid, much less
Dad.
“Yeah?”

I blinked back tears. “Take me there. Please. Let me see her.”

He knew exactly where I meant. “Junior, she’s not there. It’s just a granite stone with her name on it.”

“Please,” I begged him, my large Sprite trembling in my hand. No matter how much was in the cup, it wasn’t enough to wash down the lump in my throat.

I never asked him for anything – not a birthday or Christmas gift, no greeting cards, or quality time doing nothing but watching television. It wouldn’t kill him to drive me to the cemetery where my mother was buried. It wasn’t like I remember how to get there. Yeah, I was eleven at the time, but there were a lot of winding roads and I couldn’t keep track of them all. 

“No,” he said coldly. “You’re not ready for that, yet.”

I set my cup of soda down on a nearby counter. “Tell me where it is.
Please.”
  I’d said “please,” but I’d meant, “Tell me, or I’ll throw you across the Midwest.” 

He’d only heard about my rage blackouts and had never seen one up close. The pressure of fear and anger mixed down in my belly and built up into my fists. My mouth dried up, and my necklace heated up underneath my shirt. The chattering crowd and the aroma of burgers and deep-fried potatoes faded away. I breathed deeply, slowly, trying to hold back the waves threatening to crash inside of my brain and send me over the edge. All he had to do,
for once
, was give me what I wanted – what I needed.  

My father placed the bags on the same counter as my soda, and moved closer to me.

Confused, I froze. He didn’t know that if I twitched the wrong way, I could kill him in seconds.

He stopped walking toward me, about an inch or so from the toes of my sneakers. He was about eight inches taller than I was, so I reached his breastbone.

When he wrapped his arms around me, my anger slipped away. I was eleven again and standing at the front of the church. My knees went limp, but he caught me around the back and held me up. I cried, worse than I had this morning in the parking lot. He was right about the cemetery, and I hated that. Someday, I would be ready to see her. 

“Be strong,”
he said, patting me on the back. “Let’s go home, Champ.”

Though nicknames bother me, I let “Champ” and “Junior” slide. After wiping my eyes, I picked up my Sprite and followed him back to the Cougar.

We didn’t say much to each other on the ride back. I opened my bag and popped three fries into my mouth, catching my father’s attention.

“It’s going in the shop tomorrow, so go for it,” he said, pointing to the food.

“Go for it” really meant “stick to the fries.” My burger had the works on it, plus barbecue sauce, and there was no way to eat a sandwich that loaded without spilling anything. While I chewed, I checked my phone and noticed a few text messages from the past hour.

Rhapsody had sent one. “My last day of DD & u miss it?” followed by “This sucks,” and “Text when u get home.”  

I smiled when I read the ones from Sasha. “Miss u,” she had said. “I believe in u,” and then, “Jump over if u can.” For someone who’d supposedly slept with half of the boys at North High, she was sweet. At this point, I wondered if her reputation had any truth to it. I’d never ask her directly.

“Who’s that?” he impatiently asked me as we turned off the highway at the Stephenson exit.

I must have zoned out. “Oh, just Rhapsody, a girl I know at school.”

“Not that one, the one you were smiling about.”

Trying not to blush here. “Her name is Sasha. . .Sasha Anderson.”

“Sasha Anderson,” he repeated. “Is she cute?”

Cute? Poodles and bunnies are cute. I responded with the understatement of the year. “Kinda.”

“Alright,” his voice trailed off.

Oh, no. Please don’t lecture me about sex! Please don’t lecture me about sex! “Don’t worry.”

“Not worried,” he said, cruising into my apartment complex.

What, like I
couldn’t
have sex if I wanted to? Okay, well, up until a few days ago that had been a safe bet, but
now?
The hottest girl in school is into me. Her parents don’t get home until six. And she can
clone
herself? He should be lecturing the crap out of me right now.

“Julia and I are getting married on June first, and then we’re off to St. Lucia for a week.” He pulled to a stop at my building and unlocked the doors. “When I get back we’ll move you in.”

I left the Cougar. “Thanks for the burger,” I said holding up the bag.

As he drove away, I sipped my soda down to the ice and watched the trunk and taillights I’d crushed veer left and vanish in the distance.

When my phone chirped with a message, I knew who it was. I typed “B right over,” and pressed “send.” There was no one around – not that I could see. I tossed my cup into the trash, focused inward, and then leapt into the afternoon sky.