The Heartbreak Messenger (11 page)

“The Orionids,” I said.

“Is that a rock band or a stomach virus?” he shot back.

“Meteors, you dope. Just keep your eyes open and count the shooting stars,” I said.

Rob wasn't in our physical science class, so technically he didn't need to be there. But Abby and I, along with three of Mr. Baumbaker's periods, were supposed to be counting meteors. Our teacher had recommended Lincoln Hill Park since it sat secluded on the west side of town. The backside of the hill sloped away from the lights of the town, into a wooded area that eventually met up with Bluejacket Road. The hilltop was ringed by sycamores, but opened up in the middle of the park to provide a wide view of the sky.

“Oh, I just saw a whole bunch,” Rob said.

“Poking yourself in the eye doesn't count,” Abby said. “Only real shooting stars.”

The grass was soft and kind of tickled my ears. There was something mesmerizing about staring at the sky. After a while it seemed like you could feel the whole Earth spinning underneath you.

“How will I know when I see one?” Rob asked.

“It will be the only one of those bright dots up there that's shooting across the sky,” I said.

“I wonder where he is?” Abby said.

“Who,” Rob asked, “the Orionid?”

“Justin. He should have been here by now.”

“Oh, I just saw one!” I said, my arm shooting upward. That statement may or may not have been true.

“Where?” Abby said. “How's this going to work? I can't watch the whole sky at the same time.”

We lay there in silence for a while, feeling overwhelmed as the stars seemed to multiply and grow brighter, and the slivered moon watched us from the horizon.

“Hey, Rob,” I finally said. “I think I see Cassiopeia. It's that
W
right there. Do you remember who she was? Someone from mythology or something?” Our Cub Scout days had been brief, with lots of throwing rocks into large bodies of water, but not much astronomy.

Rob didn't answer.

“Rob?”

Abby laughed. “He's asleep.”

Rob confirmed that with a soft snore.

“Rob McFallen, the learned astronomer,” I said.

“Well, so far he's not missing much.”

I scanned the sky, working hard to keep my own eyes open. My mind wandered as I thought about Gunner on his motorcycle, the little black book in my pocket, and my ex–best friend beside me. And then suddenly I saw one. A star streaked across the sky for just an instant, like a shimmering fish through black waters, and then disappeared. But its brilliant shadow glowed in my eyes for a moment longer.

“I saw it!” Abby shrieked. “I've never seen one before.”

“There's another!”

“Three!”

“Four. Five!”

An excited murmur ran through the other groups of kids sprawled on the grass. We waited a moment. Not breathing. Hoping for more.

And they came.

We didn't try to count. Maybe five or six at a time touched the blackness and disappeared. Then another wave, then another. Skipping, streaking, skating on the sky. We didn't take a breath for a while, even after everything came to a rest and all the stars froze in place once again.

We must have shifted our bodies to get a better view of the meteors, because when I finally took a breath, I realized the side of Abby's upside-down face was touching mine. She didn't pull away and neither did I. There was something about what we had just seen in the sky, something extraordinary and unreal, something that could never be explained, only shared. And somehow, knowing that I had shared it with Abby right there next to me, made it all the more meaningful.

“Wow,” Abby whispered.

“You don't see that every day.”

“Wow,” she whispered again.

We lay there for a while in silence, her cheek warm against mine. The feeling of what we had just seen was fading quickly, and I tried hard to hold on to it.

“I wonder where they go?” she finally said.

“Probably burn up in the atmosphere or something.”

“How sad. It's not until the very end that they turn into something beautiful, and then they die. Kind of like a flower.”

“Yeah, but what a way to go.”

We watched for more meteors, but I half-hoped that no more would come. Anything else would have been anticlimactic.

“There's so many stars out here,” said Abby. “I think I see Orion.”

“Where?”

“Right there. See those three stars? I think that's his belt.”

“Cool.” I didn't tell her that Orion wouldn't be in the sky until early in the morning.

“Where was that one you were talking about before?”

“Cassiopeia. Right there. It's shaped like a
W
. I think she was a queen. A queen that was full of herself, if I remember right.”

“What about that star there? I think that one's a planet, right? It's red, so it must be Mercury.”

“No. Probably Mars,” I said. “Red planet, named for the god of war.”

“I thought Mercury was the god of war.”

“No, it was Mars. I don't remember who Mercury was … wait, he was the messenger for Jupiter.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was a mistake.

“Oh?” she said. “Did he go around breaking hearts, too?”

And suddenly the moment, the good-ol'-days moment, was over. “Let's not go there,” I said.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to discuss anything that might remind you that you have a conscience.”

“Hey, are you ready for the English quiz tomorrow?” I asked.

“You're just trying to change the subject.”

“Yes, but we do have a quiz tomorrow.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

Abby jumped up. “I saw Alyssa over there earlier. I'm going to ask her.” She started forward but hit her foot on Rob's leg. “Sorry, Rob,” she said as she headed off toward another group of kids.

“What's up?” Rob said as he sat up with his eyes half-open.

“Nothing much. Just discussing some mythology. Hey, I noticed Justin Mastersnob didn't make it tonight.”

“Yeah, that's a shame.” Rob grinned, wide awake. “I hope he didn't have bike trouble.”

“You want to tell me how you did it?”

Rob laid back down and put his hands behind his head. “I don't know what you're talking about. But I wouldn't be surprised if Justin's bike chain shows up in his mail box tomorrow.”

I snorted. “Classic.” I could almost forgive Rob for spilling the beans to Abby.

Almost.

 

Chapter 17

Two days later I also had sabotage on my mind. Not bike sabotage—at least not
bicycle
sabotage. Something different. Something that had taken a bit of quick but careful planning.

“And what is the purpose of your reservation?” The librarian looked down at me over the top of her reading glasses. The public library had been closed the day before, so this part of my plan was a little behind schedule.

I scratched my head for a moment. “A group discussion on the social habits of the male African lion.” It was close enough to the truth.

The librarian scribbled the information into her reservation book. “How very interesting. A biology class?”

“Um, more like sociology.”

“I see. Study Room One is all yours at four o'clock. Please be sure to read the rules and leave the place spick-and-span.”

“Um,” I hesitated, not sure how far to push my luck. “Can I get Study Room Two?”

She pursed her lips. “The rooms are exactly the same.”

“Well … I like to use even numbers whenever I can. Superstition.” I smiled, as though I stood up for even numbers all the time.

“Uh-huh.” She studied me for a moment and then scribbled a little more in her book. “All right, then. Study Room Two. Just remember—two is an even number, but it's also a prime. And primes are not to be trusted.”

“Right … thanks.” Now it was my turn to wonder if she was serious or not. Instead, I headed toward Study Room Two with a glance at the clock. Five minutes until four. I made a few quick preparations, read the rules posted on the wall, and then ducked into the nearby gardening section. I picked a horticulture book from the shelf and opened it, holding it up close to my face. I didn't really look at the pages, except for the one that showed a picture of a mutant tomato the size of a man's head. Crazy. My eyes peeked over the top of the book, focused on the study room entrance.

As the clock struck four, the room was still empty. I tossed the horticulture book onto a nearby shelf and pulled off another. Plant breeding. No color pictures.

My plan was a good one and I was determined to make it work. The encounter with Gunner had left me steaming.

I didn't like threats. I hated a cheater.

I wondered if he would have treated me differently if I'd been a high-schooler. But that didn't matter. I wasn't just any kid. I was the Heartbreak Messenger. I inspired fear and demanded respect. Others might tremble at a tough dude with a knife, but I had powers that Motorcycle Guy didn't even realize existed.

Assuming anyone showed up.

At 4:01, a girl approached the room. She had thick-rimmed glasses and a ponytail dangling above plain clothes. Pretty, but she screamed “nerd.” She stood in the doorway and looked around, like it might have been booby-trapped. On the whiteboard I'd written, “Please come in and sit down.” She saw that, looked around one more time, and then took a seat. There were three envelopes in front of her on the table. She picked one up, looked at it briefly, and then put it down.

A minute later another high school girl approached and looked into the room. She was also pretty and walked with a bouncing grace, but her clothes were more artsy than trendy. If she had been a junior high student, I would have said “drama club.”

She pulled a 3x5 card out of her pocket and gestured toward Pretty Nerd. “Hey. Can you tell me what this is about?”

The other girl held up a similar card. “I got one, too. I just arrived.”

Drama Queen hesitated for a second. “This better be good,” she grumbled as she took a seat.

The two didn't say a word to each other for three and a half minutes. Drama Queen drummed her fingers. Pretty Nerd pulled out a book and started reading, but looked up every five seconds. I could tell they were getting antsy, and I was afraid I'd have to settle for two and step in before they decided to leave.

But then number three arrived. Very pretty. Well dressed. Probably very popular. She didn't stop at the doorway and look around. She walked right in, held up a card, and said, “Who sent me this?” The other two girls held up their cards, too. The Popular One rolled her eyes and looked down at her own card.

She read, “‘I have information that will profoundly affect the rest of your life. It has to do with your boyfriend.' Is that what yours says, too?”

The other girls nodded.

The Popular One rolled her eyes again. “All right. I'm gone.”

Then I stepped into the room. I was all business, swinging the door closed behind me without even looking. “Sit down,” I said to the Popular One as I strode up to the whiteboard like I was a teacher.

She sat, probably more out of surprise than anything.

I uncapped a red dry-erase marker and wrote in big bold letters, “I am the Heartbreak Messenger.”

Then I replaced the marker, put my hands flat down on the table, and looked at them. They stared at me.

I knew I had to be very careful. I had sworn that I wouldn't tell Gunner's girlfriends about one another. I was going to keep that promise, and I was going to break up with his girlfriends for him. And that was all I'd do for him.

But to accomplish all that, and hopefully a little extra, I pretty much couldn't say a word. Who knows what motorcycle nightmares I might have if I broke an oath on the Beast?

Drama Queen finally spoke first. “Okay, so what now? You break up with people's girlfriends for them, right? So why are we here?”

I stared at them, calm as the ocean. At least on the outside.

“So you're going to, what? Tell me that my boyfriend is breaking up with me? I don't think so,” the Popular One said.

Come on, somebody say it,
I pleaded silently.

Drama Queen tossed her card toward me. “You can forget that. No junior high squirt is going to make me stay longer in a library than I need to.”

Then Pretty Nerd spoke, quietly, but with confidence. “Did Gunner send you?”

The other two girls' heads snapped so fast in the direction of the Pretty Nerd that I was surprised there weren't any spinal cord injuries.

Bingo
.

“How do you know about Gunner?” asked the Popular One.

Drama Queen slowly turned her head toward the Popular One. “How do
you
know about Gunner?”

The Popular One lifted her chin another inch. “He happens to be my boyfriend.”

“
Your
boyfriend?” Drama Queen replied, halfway out of her seat.

“Yeah. We've kept it kind of a secret. His grandma's Jewish and if she found out he was going out with a gentile, she'd die of a heart attack.”

Drama Queen stared at the Popular One for a good long second before looking away. “Funny,” she said, deflated. “He told me to keep our relationship a secret because his dad was in prison and he didn't want to drag my name through the mud.”

The Popular One's jaw dropped. “You've been dating Gunner? How long?”

Drama Queen shrugged. “Two months.”

“Why that rotten…” The Popular One suddenly found herself speechless. I was glad, since “No Cussing” was on the list of study-room rules.

The two girls sat in stunned silence for a minute before turning to Pretty Nerd. “So why are you here?” the Popular One asked.