The Secret Talent (9 page)

“Well, I'm going to try,” said Abel. “I've never really been good at anything athletic except running, so I figure I might as well be the best at what I can.”

“I like that,” I said. “And how are you getting ready?”

“I swim in a kiddie pool of pudding. Builds resistance.”

I gaped at him. “Seriously?”

“No!” He laughed. “I run! How else can you get good at it?”

I laughed too. “I meant do you eat certain things or have any rituals?”

Abel nodded. “I eat pickles. Lots of pickles.”

“Really?” I jotted that down. “How do pickles help you run better?”

“Oh. They don't. I just like them.”

I shot him a withering look. “They're never going to make a heart-warming sports movie about you.”

He snapped his fingers. “I do always wear the same pair of socks before a race. Never been washed.” He wrinkled his nose. “At this point, they could probably move without me in them.”

I mirrored his expression. “Brooke sure picked the right guy. She also mentioned that you've been running a bunch of 5Ks. Is that . . .” I paused when I realized Abel wasn't paying attention. He was squinting at something beyond me. I glanced over my shoulder and fought back a groan.

Ryan was swaggering into the student lounge in
my
pants and a polo shirt that looked brand-new. Students around him were whispering and staring, but the looks they were giving him were ones of surprise and approval.

“Is that Ryan Durstwich?” asked Abel. “He's changed.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So about those 5Ks—”

“He's changed a
lot.
Kinda weird for that to happen overnight,” said Abel, watching Ryan work the crowd. “And his personality seems almost tolerable.”

“I guess,” I said.

As if he could feel us staring, Ryan glanced over and gave us a finger point and a smirk. Abel continued to stare in fascination.

“Why did this happen?” he asked.

“He brushed his hair and put on some clean clothes.”

Abel shook his head. “Not how. Why? People don't make sudden changes like this for no reason.”

I shrugged. “I guess we'll never know. Can we go back to the interview questions?”

But it was too late. Ryan was headed our way.

“Hey, guys!” he said. “Tim, I need help with something.”

“I'm kind of in the middle of an interview,” I said, “but you can send in an advice request and maybe get an answer that way.”

Ryan didn't take the hint. “It's about Berkeley's party and what to wear.” He winked at Abel. “Gotta make a good impression, you know what I mean?”

I sighed and put down my notepad. “What you have on is fine, but if you're not sure, ask Vanessa. Now, if you'll excuse me.” I gestured at Abel and gave Ryan a pointed look.

He looked a little taken aback but replaced it quickly with an easy smile. “Sure thing. I'll catch up with you later, dude.” Ryan gave Abel a quick nod and walked off to talk to a group of girls who'd been huddled together, watching him. A second later they giggled way too hard at something he said. Now I knew how Brooke, Heather, and V felt when they watched
me
.

“What do you say we get back to this interview?” asked Abel.

“Good idea,” I said.

I asked him a few more questions and, just in case I needed it, took his picture with my phone. “I'm sure Stefan and Gil will find all kinds of things wrong with this,” I mumbled, pocketing my phone. “Well,” I said, offering my hand to Abel, “thanks for meeting with me. The piece isn't due until tomorrow, so if you think of anything else . . .”

Abel held up a finger. “Actually, there's one more thing I'd like to say.”

“Oh! Fire away,” I said, pen poised over my paper.

He leaned toward me. “I don't think you should let Ryan Durstwich blackmail you anymore.”

CHAPTER

S
tatues.

That's what Abel and I could've been. He sat motionless, elbows on his knees, watching me while I stared at him, openmouthed, pen still pressed to the page.

Abel squinted and pointed at my stupefied expression. “Tell me this isn't the look that gets the girls.”

Out of the millions of words I'd read in books, only three came to mind. “You . . . How . . . Who?”

Luckily, Abel was fluent in Gibberish.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “I've known since the
first time I saw you talking in the hall with him.”

Abel got to his feet and started pacing in front of me in slow, methodical steps. “You're not friends, yet you spend a lot of time together. Your personalities have swapped. He's confident and you don't seem as much so. And now he didn't just ask for your help . . . he expected it. Clearly, he has the upper hand, which is saying something since Ryan's the kid who looks like he plays poker with Uno cards.”

Abel faced me with hands on hips and a knowing smile.

I'd been Young Sherlocked.

I sighed. “I'm guessing you also know what he's using to blackmail me.”

“I think I've figured it out,” he said. Then he danced a
hasapiko
brush kick.

I clapped my hand to my forehead. “Did Brooke tell you?”

Abel shook his head. “The kid dancing in the
video wears the same watch as you and is about the same height. Plus, when I asked Brooke if it was you, she screamed ‘I like pizza!' and ran away.” At the confused look from me, he added, “We promised to never lie to each other.”

I wanted to bury my head in my hands, but I knew Ryan was still roaming the student lounge. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me suffer.

Instead, I fixed my gaze on Abel. “You're right. About all of it. I'm on the video, and I'm being blackmailed.”

Abel nodded sagely. “It's the ones you least expect who always turn out to be the masterminds.”

I straightened up. “Well, I've finally had it! I won't do any more favors for him.”

“Excellent!” Abel high-fived me. “What's the plan?”

I clenched my fist with steely resolve. “Oh,
it's gonna be good. It's gonna put Ryan in his place and show him that
nobody
messes with Tim Antonides!”

Abel cleared his throat. “You don't have a plan, do you?”

I relaxed my hand. “I was thinking about buying a soft pretzel,” I said. “You want one?”

He shook his head and sat beside me. “You need to focus. I like what you said about putting Ryan in his place. I can help you with that.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Help me?”

Abel shrugged. “Sure! What are friends for?”

“Friends?”

He studied me. “What's going on with you? You turning into a parrot?”

“Sorry.” I felt my cheeks warm. “I'm just . . . not really used to having guy friends. But I'm through working for Ryan! What's the plan?”

“Keep working for him,” said Abel.

I held up a finger. “Is there a Plan B?”

“Listen, right now Ryan has leverage over you.” He leaned closer. “You need to get leverage over Ryan.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean, you need to find a reason for him to
not
rat on you,” Abel explained. “Say . . . something that might embarrass him if it ever got out?”

A slow grin spread over my face. “You mean beat him at his own game. I like it!” I started writing in my notebook. “I could swing by his house this weekend. There's got to be something good there.”

Abel nodded. “Maybe check his bedroom.”

I shook my head. “There's nothing incriminating there. It's really clean.” Abel raised an eyebrow, and I blushed. “I cleaned it.”

He whistled through his teeth. “We have got to get you out of this. Forget his bedroom, then, and start looking elsewhere. Maybe his parents
have some embarrassing baby photos?”

“He lives with his aunt,” I said, pausing. “And he's also pretty good at figuring out what I'm up to. If I go wandering around his house, he's going to notice.”

Abel and I were both quiet for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers and grinned.

“What if you're in front of him the whole time and someone else does the searching?”

I widened my eyes. “
You're
going to do it?”

“No, no. I'm thinking of someone else who's just as fast.” He glanced past me to where Brooke and Vanessa were sitting.

“You want me to send Brooke in?” I asked.

“And Vanessa. She could be there to do some last-minute fixes to Ryan's look, and since you're trying to turn him into this great guy, what better way to test his limits than bringing in Brooke, the person he most despises?” Abel beamed at his own idea.

I rubbed my chin. “While V keeps him busy, Brooke could wander off to use the bathroom and ‘accidentally' stumble across something embarrassing.”

“But that means you have to let her in on the secret too,” Abel pointed out.

I gave him a dubious look. “She
hates
Ryan. When she finds out what he's been up to, she'll kill . . .” I nodded and clapped my hands. “Okay, this plan works!”

He got to his feet, picking up his bag. “Talk to Brooke during your lunch. She'll help you set up a plan, and then she'll meet up with me. For now, act like we just finished the interview.” He extended his hand, and I shook it.

“Thanks for all the help,” I said, holding up my notebook for emphasis.

Abel gave a brief wave and walked off without another word.

I started for the lounge exit, but before I
could reach it, Ryan swooped over, throwing an arm around me. A small group of girls was watching and smiling, but for once they weren't smiling at me.

“Tim! Why don't you join us on the couch?” He glanced at the group of girls and flashed a grin. Then out of the corner of his mouth, he added, “I have no idea how to talk to them.”

It was all I could do not to laugh and shout, “Serves you right!” After all, I was supposed to still be the humble servant.

“Actually, I have to go to the newsroom and do some work. People have been asking us for gift advice.”

Ryan frowned. “When did we start giving gift advice?”

How
was this idiot running my life?

“No, ‘us' as in the advice column.” I pointed to Brooke and V.

“Fine. Just give me something to talk about
with them.” He nodded to the girls.

“Ask them about themselves, remember?” I said. “It makes you seem like a good listener.”

He nodded, and I could see his mouth working as he repeated my instructions. “Thanks. I'll talk to you later,” he said.

“Can't wait,” I replied.

I headed up the hall, pausing at Locker 411 to see what new gift requests we'd gotten. I was starting to like them more than advice requests. My brain was already so full having to deal with Ryan, and coming up with gift ideas was way easier than dishing out advice. Why?

Because I had a system that I hadn't told Brooke, Heather, or Vanessa about.

Over the weekend I'd bought a magazine for girls, a magazine for boys, a magazine for women, and a magazine for men. I didn't read them; I just looked at the ads. That way, I had a huge bank of ideas at the ready. It was brilliant, it was simple,
and if Brooke ever got mad, I could simply buy her a bottle of Teen Dream perfume . . . or rip out the perfume strip from the magazines. Probably that.

I went inside and sat at my usual desk while across the room, Felix and Mary Patrick argued about the front page.

“Everyone's talking about the viral video issue,” he said. “I have to follow it with something just as big. Don't you want more attention?”

“Of course I do!” said Mary Patrick. “I just don't think a piece on teen celebrities is the way to go. We're not some gossip magazine.”

I shook my head and answered a gift request for someone's mom, flipping open a magazine. With my eyes closed, I waved my finger around and pressed it on one of the pages.

“Oh good. You're putting thought into these gifts,” Heather's voice sounded beside me.

I opened my eyes and glanced at the page. My
finger had landed on a pair of diamond earrings.

“Come on, you have to admit that's a good gift.” I grinned up at her.

She wrinkled her forehead. “You're not . . . answering all the gift requests like this, are you?”

I shook my head. “Not all. Just the ones that
I've
done.”

Heather squinted at me. “Very funny. These kids genuinely want our help, you know.”

“Which is why I'm randomly picking stuff in each price range,” I said. “If you're looking for Brooke and V, by the way, they're in the student lounge.”

“I know,” she said. “But I saw Ryan Durstwich in there and . . . Man, he's even more obnoxious when he's cute.”

I laughed. “You think?”

She nodded. “Don't get me wrong, he looks good and I'm glad he's got some decent manners now, but he really thinks he's all that.” Her eyes
widened, and she put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that was really mean. I know you're friends.”

I snorted. “Me and Ryan? We're not friends.”

“Really?” She tilted her head to one side. “But you spend so much time together.”

First Abel noticed, now her? Was it really that obvious?

“We're working on a project. That's all,” I said.

Heather smiled. “Well, thank goodness. Maybe you can try to set him straight,” she said.

“Actually, I prefer to stay as far from him as possible,” I said. “Can't have him picking up all my moves.”

Heather laughed. “I know we tease you a lot, but you would be a great role model for him.”

I stiffened but gave her a tight smile. “Nah,” I said. “I don't really think that's a good idea.”

“He needs someone like you around.”

I shook my head and forced a laugh. “I don't . . .”

“Tim”—Heather put a hand on my arm—“don't be so modest. You can be a positive influence on Ryan, and it's good that he—”

“Ryan's blackmailing me with that dancing video,” I said.

She might as well know. She was bound to find out from Vanessa or, pretty soon, Brooke.

Heather's grip tightened on my arm. “What?”

I shifted closer to her. “Look, don't say anything to anyone, okay? I'm handling it.”

The concern didn't leave her eyes. “How has he been blackmailing you? Did you tell Mrs. H? The principal? Your parents?”

I held up a hand to stop her. “He's just been having me do a couple little tasks for him, nothing big”—I grabbed her arm as she started to move past me—“so just relax.”

“He's been making you his servant?” Her
voice was barely above a whisper. “That's terrible! Why didn't you tell us earlier?”

“Because this is my problem to deal with, not yours,” I said. “Like I said, I'm handling it. Or at least . . . I will be this weekend.”

“What's happening this weekend?” she asked.

I explained Abel's idea, and she frowned. “That doesn't seem like the right way to deal with this. You should really let some adults know.”

I shook my head. “All they'll do is scold Ryan. I need a way to stop him once and for all.”

At the determined look on my face, Heather nodded. “Okay. How can I help?”

I gave her a grateful smile. “Right now, I think I'm good. If we get too many people involved, then Ryan's going to know I'm up to something.”

Heather squeezed my arm. “If you do need anything, even just someone to talk to, you know I'm here.”

The first bell rang, and we headed to our
lockers. I joined the students rushing to class and dropped into my homeroom desk just as the bell rang. The teacher did a quick head count and then settled into her chair with a magazine.

“Get started on any last-minute homework,” she told us, and the room fell quiet.

I was about to reach for one of Ryan's assignments when I thought better of it and propped my binder up on my desk. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I ducked behind the binder and texted Brooke.

I need your help with something this weekend.

There was no response for a minute or so and then,
Sure. What's up?

Can you keep a secret?
I texted back.

I haven't told anyone you're a spirited dancer yet, have I?
she responded.

“Fair point,” I muttered to myself, then texted,
Ryan released the dance video, and he's blackmailing me into doing favors for him
.

Two sets of classroom walls couldn't contain Brooke's voice.

“What?!” was her muffled cry.

Everyone in my homeroom looked up and glanced in the direction of the sound. The homeroom teacher frowned but went back to reading her magazine.

Congratulations,
I texted Brooke.
Yours is the voice heard round the world.

I will rip that kid to pieces! I will punch him through to the other side of the Earth!

Instantly, I was typing.
No! You will do NOTHING to let him know you're on to him. Abel and I already have a plan to get me out of this mess.

You told Abel before you told me???
she texted back.

He figured it out on his own.

Brooke's response was hearts and smiley faces, along with the words
I have the smartest boyfriend in the world!

I rolled my eyes and typed,
We'll talk more at lunch.

But first we had to talk more about how great Ryan looked. At least . . . Vanessa did. When the four of us sat down to eat, she was grinning and gushing about all the compliments she'd gotten for Ryan's makeover.