Unmaking Hunter Kennedy (29 page)

“Eww. Not happening,” one said.

“Yeah. We’ll take your word for it,” sneered another.

Vere and Dustin dissolved into laughter.

Jenna, not understanding Dustin and Vere’s absolute glee, had crossed her arms as though she were holding back on throwing punches. Her venomous stare into Kristen Hodjwick’s back could have started a fire.

Dustin was glad to have Jenna on their team and watched his new ally un-clench her fists. As if she realized Vere would not assist her in this confrontation, she shook her head looking somewhat dazed, she called after the girls, “Yeah. Well. Kristen Hodjwick, the perfect match of you is—is—your
MOM
.”

Kristen turned back and laughed. “Ooh. Nice. Last time I heard that one, I was in the third grade, dork!”

“Damn,” Jenna whispered, so only the three of them could hear. “Kristen’s right. I
so
deserve that. Who says ‘your mom’? I’m so lame.”

She looked so helpless and mad that Dustin chuckled. “You’re awesome, like Vere promised.”

Vere’s laughter started up all over again, her large brown eyes twinkling pure happiness at them.

Jenna glowered at her. “What is wrong with you? You’ve gone mental.” To Dustin, she added, “Vere’s usually in charge of excellent comebacks when she’s not delirious. They are obviously not my strong point. Vere. Stop laughing.”

“Sorry. Once a fit starts, it’s hard to stop.” Vere stepped in between him and Jenna, and bumped his upper arm with her shoulder. Her eyes were still filled with mirth. She giggled one last time, and he felt like the holes he’d been carrying on his heart had somehow just been filled in with her friendship.

With her...just her...

“We’ve done it
BGF
,” he said softly.

“Oh yeah. We’ve done it,” Jenna quipped, still not understanding as they headed for the door. “We’ve sealed your fate.”

“She’s right. I hope you weren’t expecting to make other friends besides the two of us,” Vere added.

Dustin took a deep breath and smiled at his newly formed gang. He felt...slightly...amazing. “Why would I need to do that? I’m good with you two. But on the flip side, I could be too much of a long-term social burden. No hard feelings if you decide to cut and run after today.”

Jenna folded her arms across her chest. “We can decide that later. And if you try to dump us, we’ll stalk you or something. I like you a little—or I like the compasses—so you’re stuck!”

A loud electronic beep cut through the air.

Dustin flinched and glanced nervously at Vere.

“First bell. We have ten minutes to get to class,” Vere explained.

Dustin smiled and pulled his lips up above his retainer in reply.

Vere laughed again and rolled her eyes.

Jenna grimaced. “I suppose there’s no way you can yank that retainer and only wear it at home?” she asked, her expression hopeful.

“Hey now, it issthhhh new technology. The dentissthh says all my teethtths will ssseparate if I don’t keep it in.”

“But our eyes could separate if you don’t take it out—”

“Jenna, can you give him a break? He’s only just met you. You can work on his fashion later,” Vere said cheerily. “Follow me, Dustin. I’ll take you up to the office.”

23: invisible

Dustin

Dustin stared at his registration packet.

Vere and Jenna had long since left him alone at the front office with a goat-ish woman called Mrs. Ferriter. She was now leading him along. Each of her steps sounded like hooves,
clack, clack, clackity-clacking
all the way to a long table in the back room.

She handed him a huge pile of strange, school safety waiver forms to fill out. He also had a student handbook, a registration form and a booklet that had yellow sticky notes all over it. Mrs. Ferriter had told him the sticky notes designated which classes had been marked full, and that he was not to sign up for any of those.

There were two other late-start students filling out their paperwork, but after only a cursory glance, they had positively ignored him.

Excellent sign of success.

Mrs. Ferriter had directed him to choose something they called
Advanced Placement
courses for his core math, science, literature, and history classes.

His grades and test scores that had been sent over allowed for that, whatever
that
meant. He dutifully chose Trig. II, Physics, English Literature, and Medieval History, all from under the AP category.

Dustin let out a big, noisy sigh on purpose, and quickly looked at the guy sitting next to him.

The guy didn’t look up.

The girl he’d dubbed
permanently-annoyed-girl
shot him a glare from across the table.

Amazing!

A flood of laughter surged into Dustin’s chest but he managed to hold it in.

This new teen-invisibility factor had to be the best feeling in the world! He tapped his pen onto the table and tested his dorkiest whistle as he turned back to his forms. When he looked over his choices of electives, drama was the only available option. Vere would be happy at least. Besides, he sure wasn’t going to take any of the P.E. classes. Short sleeves and locker rooms would not work.

“Excuse me. You, with the ugly vest. Stop the whistling bit,”
permanently-annoyed-girl
ordered. When he looked up at her a second time, she pulled a face and rolled her eyes while tossing his pants a sneer.

Point for the canvas!

The guy next to him had finished his pile of paperwork and seemed to be openly assessing his outfit with grimaces too.

Dustin tried again. “Thsshthese forms are a big pain, huh?”

The guy raised one eyebrow in what looked like absolute scorn. He leaned back in his chair and gave a little snort and shook his head when he took in Dustin’s boots. “What are you? Some kind of inbred?” he asked, finally.

Dustin stopped whistling. It was his turn not to answer.

Even though it was almost impossible to do—he dropped his smile, and turned away, acting all sad.

He glanced again at
permanently-annoyed-girl
but was met again with her hostile, closed face.

Christ. These kids have zero sense of humor.

His initial sense of elation fled, leaving—what?

Was he suddenly embarrassed? Freaked out? Supremely uncomfortable?

Yes.

But, he also felt pretty good, considering. He sucked in a deep breath, imagining Vere’s happy reaction to this news. Dustin McHugh had it made. No one wanted a piece of him. This high school schedule was easy compared to his usual 20 hour days and nights. No one took photos or randomly grabbed him either. Hell, these kids didn’t even want to be near him. His heart twisted a little, thinking of his fans. His band, recording songs in NYC right now.

Maybe this wasn’t the best feeling in the world.

He imagined entering a classroom full of kids just like these two in a few, short minutes. They couldn’t all be this flipping rude. Could they?

He zoned out and stared at the form in front of him and circled a deep groove with his ballpoint pen around and around the words that said ‘Drama 300/400 Jr./Sr. only’. The only course in the booklet for upper grades. Vere would have signed up for this same class. Because if everyone was going to treat him like invisible trash, he needed to refuel with his
bestie
, and soon.

Please. Please. Please.

What’s that song line? ‘If you’re loved by just one then you can’t be rejected?’ No...that’s not right...and who sings it? Besides I should switch it to: ‘If you love just one but she doesn’t know it...’

“Young man. Mr. McHugh.”

Clack. Clackety. Clack.

Mrs. Ferriter’s face loomed over his shoulder as a cloud of cheap perfume assaulted his senses. When Dustin looked up, Mrs. Ferriter’s face had turned even more goat like.

Did her beady eyes seem sort of disapproving or is it the hairs on her chin that are freaking me out?

“Principal Sloan would like a word with you about your file.”

Dustin’s heart sank into his stomach. He scanned her face for a clue as to the meaning behind her words.

Maybe she knew. Maybe they all knew who he was.

Please. Please. Don’t let her know.

Mrs. Ferriter scooped up his paperwork. “You two done?” She jerked her head at the other kids. They quickly gathered up their things. “Good. All of you follow me out.” She waved a meaty hand at Dustin. “You. Head two doors south. Corner office. After you’re done, I’ll have your class schedule printed.”

**

“Mr. McHugh, please come in. Shut the door.” Principal Sloan’s stern, disapproving voice caught him by surprise as he stood in the hallway.

Dustin entered the office and glanced warily at the man sitting behind a huge oak desk. The principal looked to be older than time. He had gold wire-rimmed glasses, sported the most unbelievable beige polyester shirt highlighted by an electric blue tie. Principal Sloan had a file open. He didn’t look up as he studied its contents. “Come closer, son. What do you say?”

Dustin’s heart raced double time.

What should I say?

Silence was always his preferred choice when presented with dangerous people, but in this case, he opened with: “Er—nice to meet you, sir?”

Dustin shifted his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. Did this guy know who he was or not? He thought back to Thursday in the airport. What had Martin and his mom said about the school district? Was this the person who’d done the favor?

Dustin scoured his brain but couldn’t remember.

Why hadn’t they emailed him at least some kind of reminder about all this crap?

“I don’t know what your deal is, Dustin McHugh, but your file came down to me from pretty high up. The only other time we had anything this unusual and this hush-hush was when one kid’s family was in the witness protection program—back in ninety-seven.”

Dustin opened his mouth to say he was not a federal witness but the guy held up his hand and stopped him.

“I don’t want to know. Get it? For your safety, and the safety of the school, I’m not allowed to ask. So don’t tell me. My concerns lie in other areas. The only information I’ve been privy to is your penchant for vandalism and reckless driving. Oh and personal endangerment. I also have a note here about your possible depression? If you are depressed, Dustin, we do have counseling available. As for the other stuff, I need to warn you that it will not be happening here. So. Are you? Are you currently depressed?”

“No sir,” Dustin almost choked on the words.

“Will you be requiring any counseling at this time? Your file says you’re living with your great aunt as guardian. I’ll call her to let her know we’ve had this conversation. I have to return this form to the district this morning to show that we talked.”

Dustin breathed a sigh of relief. He had no clue how Martin had managed to hide his identity but he was, at this moment, truly grateful for his agent’s abilities.

“So is that a definite ‘no’ for counseling?” he asked again.

“I had a therapist at my...old place. He told me I only needed a therapist if I wanted one. I don’t. I’ll refuse to go if anyone tries to make me.” Dustin hated that he had to justify himself to this guy, but it had to be better than being found out. “I can honestly say to you that I’m starting to realize that since I’ve come to Colorado, I’ve never been happier. Really.”

“Good. Good. Let’s hope it stays that way. Let me know if you need anything.” The principal was busily filling out an orange form with the name Dustin McHugh typed in all caps at the top. “The other shenanigans will not be tolerated. Do you have that under control?”

“I do, sir. The Roth family is helping me out. The kids, brother and sister, will be driving me to—uh, to,” he used Mrs. Roth’s words, “here and to all school functions.”

“Charlie Roth? Really. Interesting.” The principal scratched his ear and wrote more on the bottom of the form as he blabbed on, “Charlie’s a darn good football player. That kid’s got his head pretty much on straight. Hope to work him out a fine scholarship this year. Didn’t know he had a sister.”

“Vere. His sister’s name is Vere. Vere Roth. She’s a junior.” For some reason it bothered Dustin that the principal didn’t know Vere’s name.

Principal Sloan hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “All right. So long as we’re clear, McHugh.”

“We’re clear.”

The principal put down his pen and directly looked at Dustin for the first time. “You’re a tall one. But you don’t look to be very sports oriented. I’ll tell you though, our basketball team is always looking for—”

“Drama!” Dustin couldn’t help but interrupt. He could hardly believe the principal had bought into his dork factor. The guy was a total tool. “I’m going to join the drama club, sir.” He flashed his retainer, which earned him the expected and hoped for disdainful squint. Dustin grinned even wider and had the urge to laugh because his new power to horrify people was beyond awesome.

“Yes. Yes. Drama.” The principal sighed and looked away as though he couldn’t stand to look at Dustin’s smile. He seemed to lose all interest in Dustin and glanced at his watch. “Don’t waste any more time, son. Head out. You should be able to make it to second period.”