The Seven (Fist of Light Series) (4 page)

E
nglish passed me by in the way that it always did when I bothered to show up for school. Mr. Lodin was nice enough, even if I was called out numerous times as I wandered off task.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class on this topic, Caleb?”

“
The Great Gatsby
probably isn’t going to help me survive outside of high school. Sure, Gatsby was an admirable fellow. But is it really that important to point out every piece of symbolism in the book? I mean come on, who takes nine years to finish writing one novel?” I brandished the book as proof of the author’s so-called conquest.

“That’s a very interesting point. Maybe instead of reading this book you’d like to bring in your own, and you can take tests on reading comprehension as you finish them. That way I won’t bore you.”

“That sounds great!” I told him, more than happy to call his bluff. “I’ll bring in a new book tomorrow.”

The comment brought laughter from every other student in the room, including Em, who was sitting in the front row. I wasn’t totally surprised at that turn of events. Unfortunately, Mr. Lodin’s response wasn’t all that surprising either.

“Detention, Holden, directly after school today. Don’t be late! And get back on task.”

“Psst. New kid. I heard you got detention already. Nice!” That came from a rich kid with strawberry blond hair sitting two rows to the left of me.

He had the kind of face that teenage girls fawned over, perfect in every regard. Sparkling blue eyes sat under carefully manicured eyebrows. His reddish-golden locks tumbled down over his face in a pleasing disarray, the fad that apparently had become popular since I instigated it. Or maybe it just happened to be the easiest method on the market. Shake your head a little bit and presto, done. An angular nose and jaw line completed his look. I tried to overcome my automatic dislike for him. It wasn’t his fault he was born pretty and rich.

“Yeah, well. What can I say?” I halted conversation for a few moments as Mrs. Determier turned from her explanation of balanced chemical equations. “I guess I’m just the sort that attracts trouble,” I whispered with a confiding grin.

“I’ll see you there. I got detention from Mr. Charleston for back-talking last week. I kept skipping out, but I’ve gotta go today, or I’ll get a Saturday school.” The mischievous grin he gave me was inspiring. I couldn’t help but return it. “Name’s Jason Franklin. Or Jas for short. Yours?”

“Caleb. See you then, I guess,” I replied. Mrs. Determier gave me a blistering look.

Once class was finally over, I rushed out with a hug from Em and a goodbye wave from Jas. I couldn’t help but notice the ways his eyes bugged out as I walked out the door.

Luckily for me, Jas was in my foods class and he volunteered to be my partner. We were making brownies from scratch, and it brought back memories of home-cooked meals prepared by Mom on my birthday. I dispelled the memories before they could take root in my thoughts and went back to work with a lighter heart.

“Pass the eggs, man,” Jas’ request brought me back to the here and now.

I obliged readily. “Yeah, sure. Here.”

A comfortable silence prevailed. We achieved a rhythm, and we were the first group to put our mix into the preheated oven.

“So, where’re you from?” Jas asked in order to fill the growing silence.

“Chicago. Or I was. It’s a long story. I’ve been on the run for years now. I barely even remember what I was actually running from. But I’m done with that now. I’m staying at the foster home for now.”

He winced. “Damn. Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”

I gave him my best reassuring smirk. “Nah, it’s cool. It had to come up sometime, right? So, I’m guessing you don’t have much trouble with money?” I gave his designer clothes a significant look.

Jas shrugged. “Yeah. No. My dad owns a bunch of clubs and stuff.”

My eyes lit up. “So you can get into all kinds of places, can’t you?”

“I guess I could,” he replied with a confiding grin. “But they tend to attract a very rough crowd. Take my advice, and stay far, far away.”

I moved the topic onto safer ground. “So, do you play any sports?”

“Yeah, I’m the quarterback for the Bucking Broncos. Can’t believe that was the best name they could come up with.”

“Really? Coach Sanders talked to me about joining the team today. It’d be good to have at least one person on the team who wasn’t a complete douche.”

Jas’ eyes widened comically. “That was you!? I heard about the fight, but no one really knows what you look like. Rumors fly, but they sure aren’t very good at nailing down the truth.”

I had to grin. “Yeah, it was. I think the most surprising part of the whole thing was the coach. Since when does a teacher congratulate you on knocking someone’s block off?”

“He’s the varsity football coach. He’s good at it too, and he’s a tough cookie. He knows about Rex and what he does. It’s just karma, for all he cares.” His smile said that he was in complete agreement. “You should come out. It’s a whole lot of fun. And I need a good running back, one who can get farther than five yards before he gets stomped on.”

I nodded hesitantly. “Sure. Why not? Though you might find that a bit difficult to accomplish that in detention.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s no problem. We only have practice on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight. Let me check my schedule.” I pretended to pull an imaginary phone out of my jeans pocket. I clicked around to the calendar section in my mind. Nothing. What a surprise. “Nothing at all. What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, since you’re going to miss the bus back to the foster home, I figured we’d have a little fun getting to it. Ever heard of parkour?” The smile he flashed promised trouble.

“Of course! What you think, I live under a rock?” I said, sarcasm in my voice.

Jas rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what it is, do you?”

I leaned back against the oven. “Nope. Care to enlighten me?”

The buzzer sitting on top of the old steel oven rang, and I opened the door to take out the brownies, stuffing my hand in a mitten on the way. I set them on top of a cooling rack. After a quick study of the room, it became apparent that we were the first to get our brownies out of the oven. Who said guys can’t cook? Jas waited until I was done before starting his explanation.

“OK, so it’s like this. Parkour is all about getting through obstacles in the fastest, most efficient way. And, of course, without killing yourself in the process. You can do it anywhere, especially in this city, since everything’s jammed so tight. What it adds up to is jumping off buildings and scaling walls, and if you do it right, you usually end up on the next structure in one piece. It’s loads of fun. We can do it on the way back to your place.”

It looked like he expected me to say he was crazy. But, it
did
sound like fun. I mean really, jumping across buildings, scaling stuff? Who wouldn’t want to do that? You’d have to be a slightly cracked individual if you did, but I’d been that for as long as I could remember.

“You’re on. Just don’t slow me down!” I smiled.

It was then that Mrs. Conners finally noticed that we had finished with our brownies. I didn’t really think she would even bother to check the quality of our work in a class like this, but the fact that we finished so early must have made her suspicious. She was everything you’d expect in a chef or cook, and apparently that extended to a high school cooking teacher.

She slid a butter knife into the middle of the brownies, and then pulled it out, eyeing the blade as she did. Apparently, we had passed some sort of test, because her face broke into a huge, motherly smile. It was the kind of face that was suited for smiling.

“Well done, boys. Extra credit for the excellent work!”

Maybe I’d be as good at parkour as I was cooking brownies.

“You know Emily Brooks?” Jas whispered out of the corner of his mouth as she came within earshot. We were sitting outside in the bleachers of the ridiculous stadium and field that would have made more sense at a college than a high school.

“Yeah. Met her this morning. Why?” I glanced curiously over.

“She’s the hottest, least approachable chick in school, man! Anyone who’s ever taken a go at her has been shot down, humiliated!”

I bent great willpower to the task of stopping blood from rushing to my face. It just wouldn’t do to blush in front of either of these two, as I’d no doubt be laughed at for months.

Em offered us a beaming smile. “Hey, Jas, Caleb. I see you two have met. I didn’t know you came up here too at lunch.”

I gave Jas a significant look over my apple, and he
did
blush.

“How’s your first day been so far, Caleb? Get into any more trouble besides the detention?” The look she gave me told me that she wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest.

“Nope. Not a bit more. Me and Jas made some brownies in foods, though. Want one?” I extended the plate, which still had four remaining to it.

“I love brownies! Thanks.” The smile she gave me tugged at the corners of my lips.

I heard a muttered “Why didn’t I think of that?” from Jas and hid my amusement with another bite of my apple. It was close to finished, and I was sure I’d need all the protection it could offer. While Emily started on her brownie, I took advantage of the lull to look out over the bleachers. It was such a vast structure, so the crowds weren’t a problem, but I could see the ever-present cliques arrayed all over the benches. It seemed that this place was one of the more popular places to eat lunch.

Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all, I thought. If I had to be in a school, this one sure was up to regulation standards. Nice friends, and it helped that a nice-looking girl seemed to be interested in me.

After a nice bit of PE, where I got to show off my fine physical skills, it was time to face my fate. Detention was in A-7, and Mrs. Nettles was exactly as Jas had described to me previously. Fat to a point far exceeding obesity, she sat in a leather chair with her back to the wall, facing her inmates. A stern expression, close to a scowl, was permanently etched into her stony exterior. Her flowery dress only served to emphasize her completely opposite personality. I barely contained the laugh that craved to force its way past my sternum and into the world; I must have made some kind of sound because she turned toward me, scowling.