Souls in Peril (7 page)

He got dressed and gathered up a pen and paper and began outlining his plan to whip JD into shape. Mel didn
’
t return
at
nine, but that was okay with Max. He was achy
,
tired and in enough pain to warrant taking a pain pill the doctor had sent home with him, after which he crawled into JD
’
s bed. Although lumpy and hard, Max fell asleep instantly.

Sometime during the night, Max heard voices—one male, one female, arguing. Through the fog of the pain pill, Max couldn
’
t make out what they argu
ed
about. After a few minutes, he fell asleep again and didn
’
t wake until the alarm clock buzzed at seven the next morning. He dressed in the cleanest clothes he could find.

“
I
’
ll be d
oing laundry today after school,
”
he murmured as he brushed his teeth. He rinsed his mouth and
re
adjusted himself in his new underwear.
“
Tighty-whiteys. Seriously, who still wears tighty-whiteys?
”

The living room he
’
d cleaned last night was a mess again. Pop cans and empty burger wrappers littered the floor once more.
“
I
’
m guessing
Tim
has an aversion to trash cans.
”
Max scrambled up some eggs since the only other option was Sugar Mania, a cold, sugar packed cereal. He also took the pain pills and flushed them down the toilet.
“
Not taking these again.
”
He hated the groggy feeling he got from them.

Hoisting JD
’
s backpack up on his shoulder, he stepped outside
and
realiz
ed
he had no idea where the bus stop was. He hoped to see other kids waiting nearby, otherwise he
’
d have a long
hike
to school.

“
Although a forty-five minute walk would be good for this body.
”
As Max poked his flabby stomach, a
powerful
surge
of fear propelled him back against the door.
“
What the heck?
”
he muttered, righting himself. He
glanced
around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“
Weird.
”
Max stepped off the porch and headed toward the school. He came around the first corner and saw a group of kids he recognized. The same feeling of impending doom from a few minutes ago rushed him again.
JD
’
s afraid of getting on the bus,
Max thought.
No, this is beyond fear. He
’
s scared spit-less.

Max approached the kids with a smile on his face, convinced JD just needed a little self-confidence.
“
Hey.
”
He knew several of them, but since he didn
’
t know who exactly JD knew, he didn
’
t call any by name.

“
Hey, butthead,
”
said a tall kid Max didn
’
t
recognize
.
“
Heard you killed our star pitcher.
”
The kid came up to him, shoving his face into Max
’
s.
“
We lose the championship game, you can kiss your
fat
butt goodbye
,
‘
cause yours will be the next funeral around here.
”
He rammed his shoulder into Max, knocking him back a few steps. Out of pure instinct,
JD
’
s instinct
, Max threw his arms over his face as if to block a punch. The tall kid laughed and several others joined in.

A gentle tug on his arm had Max spinning around defensively. Icky Izzy. Max had forgotten about her.
“
Hi.
”
Her voice came out timidly.
“
Why
are you over
here?
”

“
What?
”
Max looked at her, confused.

“
We stand over
t
here.
”
She pointed across the street to a corner covered in thorn bushes.
“
Are you okay? Your mom said you had a concussion. I tried to come and visit, but you know my dad.
”

No, actually
,
I don
’
t.
  He followed her over to the thorn bush, noting how skinny she
’
d gotten. It was the thinnest he
’
d ever seen her. A good strong wind, heck, any kind of a breeze would blow her right over. Her pale skin was translucent and her
watery gray
eyes were ringed.
She needs a good night
’
s sleep and a good meal.

“
I
’
m doing better today, thanks. I did some stretches and that helped with the stiffness. The head
’
s a little sore still, but that will get better with time. The doctor said it could take six months to a year for the headaches to stop.
”
He rubbed his temples
, th
e pounding lighter today.

“
Did he give you any pain pills?
”
Her pale face lit up as she asked. The thought crossed Max
’
s mind that maybe her thin body was the result of drug use and
,
not anorexia.

“
Yes, Percocet. But they fogged up my mind too much. I flushed them down the toilet this morning.
”

“
You did what? Did you forget about the pact?
”
She looked at him frantically.
“
JD, I can
’
t believe you. Sometimes I don
’
t think you care one bit about
it
.
”

Before he could question her about the ambiguous pact, the bus came. Max turned to go, but Izzy tugged on his arm.
“
We get on last, remember?
”
She dipped her head at the tall kid.

Max stepped back next to Izzy and waited for everyone else to get on the bus. He then followed her on,
padd
ing down the aisle toward the back of the bus. Max felt like he was walking the
gauntlet. Feet shot out to trip him and Izzy, hands delivered punches low on his thighs, too low for the bus driver to see, and someone actually spit at him. Many of the kids shouted out crude names along with calling them
The Ten
. After Max and Izzy took a seat near the back, the tall kid who was seated in the front turned around and asked loudly,
“
What do you call a baby born to
The Ten
?
”
He paused for a moment then said,
“
An immaculate conception, because not even Icky is desperate enough to sleep with Lumpy.
”
Several kids laughed, some ignored him, and a few told him to sit down, including the bus driver.

“
He must be having a bad day. That was pretty mild for him,
”
Izzy informed Max. He thought of the jokes, insults really, that he and Leo had thrown at
The Ten
. It made him sick. How could he be so heartless? If his parents knew, they
’
d be disappointed in him.
He
was disappointed in himself. He sat in silence the rest of the way.

Once at school, Izzy left for her economics class. Max, however, had no idea where to go. He didn
’
t know JD
’
s schedule whatsoever. Looking through the backpack didn
’
t help. He made his way to the attendance office to get a copy of JD
’
s schedule.

“
Hi,
”
Max smiled at the receptionist. She returned the smile, approaching the chest-high, yellow counter separating the students from the office staff.
“
My name is Jayden Miller. Can I get a copy of my schedule, please?
”

The smile died on the woman
’
s face. She punched keys on her computer with determination.
“
Social?
”
she demanded.

“
Excuse me?
”

“
Social Security number, Mr. Miller.
”
She spit out her reply, never looking at Max.

He thought for a minute, not knowing what to do. He certainly didn
’
t know JD
’
s number. He sent a mental note to Gabe, hoping he
’
d relay it to his mind somehow. Nothing.

“
Mr. Miller, I don
’
t have all day.
”

Max couldn
’
t help noticing her curt tone.
“
I
’
m sorry. I was recently in an accident, and I—
”

“
Yes, Mr. Miller. The entire school is aware of your little accident involving the deaths of three wonderful people.
”

Max got it now. She blamed JD for his family
’
s deaths.
“
I suffered a head injury
,
and I can
’
t seem to remember my social security number.
”

She rolled her eyes, punched a few more keys, and after the schedule printed
,
she slapped it down on the counter in front of Max.
“
And might I suggest that the next time you
’
re out driving, you pay better attention to what is going on around you.
”
She turned and stomped back to her desk.

Max was stunned. How could she make an assumption like that with
out
knowing all the facts? He could understand it from one of his peers, but an adult?

He took the schedule, looked it over and left, noting JD shared
only one
class with Emma—second
period Journalism
. He
’
d finally get to see
her
. He folded up the schedule and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans as he headed for his first class,
P
.
E
. The familiar twist in his stomach kicked up as he entered the locker room.
Stay calm, JD. You
’
re in my house now. Sports are what I do
.
Max grinned
as
h
e pulled open the door. The sweet smell of sweat wrapped around him like an old friend. Max welcomed it with open arms. Finally something familiar. Since yesterday, every space, every scent
,
was JD
’
s life. But this, the locker room, was Max
’
s domain. He strutted straight down the first row of lockers toward his old locker, stopping dead as he rounded the corner.

His baseball jersey
lay
draped over the locker door, and a poster, signed by what appeared to be the entire Baseball team, hung from a string over the jersey. It simply stated:
RIP Max. Gone, but never forgotten.
Max forced the lump in his throat down.

“
Yeah, you should feel bad, Lumpy. Why couldn
’
t you have died instead of him? Like anyone would
have
care
d
.
”
Max turned as his teammate Jeff
Morgan
passed by, shoving his shoulder into Max
’
s chest
.
Max doubled over with an
“
Oof.
”
Two other guys from the team repeated Jeff
’
s actions. Max turned and left before it
could get
worse.

He stood in the middle of the room, wondering where JD
’
s locker was and feeling sick. He
’
d have to ask coach. He didn
’
t want to see him, let alone talk to him. Coach adored Max, and Max thought of him as a second father. If a secretary who didn
’
t even know Max hated JD, he could only imagine how Coach would react. Max forced himself up to Coach
’
s office door and, for the first time in his life, timidly knocked.