Not So Easy Page 5

  “Teacher’s pet,” muttered the catcher. Some called out butthead and a couple of stronger insults at him on the way to his locker. He couldn’t believe his day. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to catch a break. He dressed quickly, shoved his stinky clothes to the bottom of his backpack to take home, and left for second period. And Emma.

  His heart pounded like thunder as he entered journalism class. He feared it would explode. Not knowing where JD usually sat, Max stood in the back, enduring another round of crude jokes about his size as the room filed with students. He didn’t care. Emma would be there any minute now.

  Students poured into the large classroom, some settling in behind computers, other the drafting tables that lined the walls of the well-lit room. The last bell rang; and no Emma. She didn’t show. Max was crushed. He only made it through first period knowing he’d see her in an hour.

  Mr. Roberts, the teacher and editor of the school newspaper, sat behind a large copy machine. He looked up and smiled. “Hello, Jayden.” Max nodded. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve had better days,” Max answered honestly.

  “I’m sure you have. Remember what we’ve talked about. Write it down, get those feelings out.”

  Max had no clue what to say to that. He hated writing with a passion, and preferred dealing with his feelings on the ball diamond.

  Mr. Roberts cracked a few windows open, before coming back over to JD. “Since Emma isn’t here today, I’d like you to work on the story about the rat problem in the cafeteria.”

  “We have rats in the cafeteria?” Max blurted out.

  Mr. Roberts laughed. “Emma told me she may need help with the story. You should ask her.”

  Emma and JD working together? Max liked that idea. “Um, Mr. Roberts, would you mind if I sat out today? I’ll do extra homework or something, but my head is really pounding.” Though it was not the real reason he wanted to sit out of class, it was the truth.

  “No problem. Would you like to go to the nurse’s office and lay down?”

  As tempting as the offer sounded, Max declined. He picked a desk as far away from everyone as he could get and sank into the chair. He laid his head down on the desk and let the rays of sunshine streaking across it, bathe his head.

  No Emma. He’d wanted to see her so badly. Now it’d have to wait until tomorrow. It seemed like a million years away.

  Third period Lit didn’t hold much interest for him either. He wasn’t big on reading the classics, even though Emma tried to encourage him too. Now he had to sit and listen to boring Professor Bennett blabbering on and on about them.

  “Good morning, class.” She was dressed from head to toe in pink. Max had to turn his head to keep from laughing. “JD, so good to have you back. Come, take your seat.” She pulled out a chair at the desk nearest her. Max stumbled to the front, ignoring the snide comments as he made his way. Settling into the vacant chair, Max noted how happy he now felt. Well, happy may have been a bit of an over statement, but clearly JD enjoyed Lit class.

  “Today we will be reading poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.” Professor Bennett smiled as if that were a good thing. Max and almost every other guy in the class groaned. The female population opened their books gleefully.

  They read poems till Max’s ears bled, or so it felt like it. Despite the anguish he experienced, he couldn’t deny the happy little place inside him that delighted in the poems. In spite of himself, Max smiled. JD likes poems. I never would’ve guessed.

  At lunch, he searched out Izzy, and the two of them ate lunch in a deserted classroom. To Max’s surprised, Izzy actually ate, even though her diet seemed a bit bland. It gave credence to his drug theory about her. When she finished, she removed a couple of pills from her purse and swallowed them down without water, as if she’d been taking them for years. The thought made Max sad. He started to say something, but decided it wasn’t the place. Besides, he had a more pressing issue on his mind.

  “Izzy, I have a question about the pact.”

  She about jumped out of her skin. “Are you crazy? We can’t talk about that here.” She glanced out into the hall to make sure no one overheard him. “We agreed not to talk about it until the day of. Remember?” Max nodded, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do. “Don’t you dare chicken out on me, JD. This is right and you know it.”

  “I’m a little fuzzy from the accident still.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you want help with your math homework tonight? My dad’s not going to be home until Friday, so you can come over if you’d like.” Max watched as she picked up all the wrappers and carefully wiped down the desk, erasing their presence from the room. She carefully opened the door, and when the hall was empty they crept out of the classroom.

  “I’ll let you know on the math. Okay, Izzy?”

  “Sure. I’ll wait for you by my locker after school so we can walk to the bus together,” she said, sliding her book bag up onto her shoulder. “Safety in numbers,” she added as she held out her left index finger.

  Max wasn’t sure what to do, but she expected him to return the gesture. He raised his left index finger to her. She wove her around his and gave one hard shake.

  “Keep to the code.” She looked at him. “JD! You didn’t say it.”

  “Sorry,” Max said shaking her finger with his again.

  In unison, they both said, “Keep to the code.” She smiled and left.

  “Great. Now if I only knew what the code was.”

  His next class held his only hope of seeing Emma today. She had math in the room next to JD’s human physiology class. He peered around the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

  She never showed. He walked into class late and sat at the back. Miserable.

  By the end of the day, exhaustion owned him. The abuse he’d endured all day wore on him. The disappointment of not getting to seeing Em only added to his depression. The heavy burden of feeling JD’s emotions along with his own surprised him. He planned on going straight to bed when he got home. He didn’t care how much homework he had.

  He strode to the lockers, wanting to lighten his backpack before meeting up with Izzy. He looked around for her, but had no idea where her locker was. Being a senior also, she should be somewhere nearby, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. He decided to put his things away then head over to the bus loading area and wait for her there.

  He removed the schedule from his pocket and found the locker combination Mary Sunshine, the admissions secretary, gave him. He had to redo the combination three times before it would work. He tugged on the door, but it was stuck. He took both hands and jerked hard.

  An explosion of what smelled like pizza sauce splashed all over him. He removed his glasses and tried to wipe off his face. Laughter echoed in his ears, but the sauce running down his face spilled into his eyes, making it impossible to see.

  “Oh my goodness.” A teacher, at least Max hoped it was a teacher, led him down the hall into room. She handed him a wet towel and Max wiped the sauce out of his eyes and off his face.

  “Who is responsible for this?” Max turned to see Mary Sunshine standing in front of him.

  “I have no idea.” Max wanted to tell her she could pick any one since they all seemed to hate JD. He finished wiping his face, digging the sauce out of his ears and hair. It was everywhere. “Invasive stuff, pizza sauce,” he said, rinsing the towel out in the sink. He handed it to the secretary and thanked her.

  Max raced back to his locker to grab his backpack, JD’s urgency pushing him to get to the bus. This time he opened the locker carefully, standing off to the side. Nothing exploded, but he did discover a three-by-five inch index card taped to the inside of the door. It read: You have blood on your hands-MURDERER.

  Stay strong, JD. It’ll take more than a little pizza sauce to break us. To Max’s surprise the anxiety level dropped slightly as he assured JD. He smiled and headed for the bus. However, when he got there, it was gone.

 
Fear surged through him so violently, he almost fell to his knees. Stronger than the fear that knocked him back against the door earlier that morning. Stronger than the fear that gripped him on the bus ride.

  JD’s instincts kicked in and Max could only follow. He took off running, darting behind houses and ducking into business doorways. When he came to an open field, Max could hardly breathe. “Too . . . much . . . JD,” Max puffed out. “You’re not . . . in good enough shape . . . to be running . . . this hard.”

  Tires squealing sent Max off again before he caught his breath. A stitch in his side made it impossible to run upright. Max looked up and saw a strip mall, and knowing that JD wanted to go there, turned and crossed the road. But instead of going inside the buildings, he ran behind them, straight to a large dumpster.

  Oh no. I’m not going in there. This is enough, JD. Stop running and face whoever is after you like a man.

  But JD’s fear was still in control. Max lifted the lid and dove into the smelly, disgusting garbage just as the same squealing tires came tearing around back.

  Max retched twice as the odors spiraled their way up his nose. He slapped his hand over his face to try and cancel out the smell, but it was hopeless. Something hard dug into his back, but when he started to reach back to dislodge it, an almost audible scream told him to lie perfectly still. That’s pretty hard to do when you’re panting and shivering with fear, Max thought, disgusted with JD.

  A car door opened, then another. Max heard the driving beat of music screaming over the car’s stereo.

  “Where the freak is this guy hiding?” demanded a male voice Max thought he recognized.

  “I don’t know, Nate. I really thought we had him this time,” replied a female voice.

  Nate Stackman. Max was sure of it. The guy got a thrill out of bullying, and Max couldn’t stand him. Nate wasn’t exactly popular with anyone else either. Last year he punched his girlfriend with a glass mug after a football game, breaking her nose. He ended up doing time in Juvy for it and was expelled from Port Fare High.

  Someone hit the trash bin. Max jumped. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” the girl said.

  “I’m going to figure out where that little wuss disappears to if it’s the last thing I do.” The car doors slammed shut and tires squealed away.

  Max lay in the bin, unable to move. JD’s fear of being caught by Nate took every ounce of energy he had. Finally, he sat up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Max raised the lid an inch and peered around to make sure Nate was gone. He climbed out, rubbing his pounding head. I wish I hadn’t flushed those pain pills now. He began wiping the trash off his pants, stopping mid-swipe. He tossed his head back and groaned.

  “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.” He lifted his hand to his face. “Dog crap. Seriously, JD? You’d rather hide in a dumpster full of dog crap than face those losers? Never again, JD. Not as long as I’m here.” Max shook off the rest of the mess from his clothes and continued home.

  “Still getting chased, I see.” A bald man stood in the doorway, his hands resting on the upper corners of the frame, blocking Max from going inside. He had a cocky grin on his face. Tim. Max wanted to shove the guy aside so he could shower. He was tired, stinky, and his head wouldn’t stop pounding. Only he couldn’t, because once again, JD’s fear swamped him. Max wondered if fear was the only emotion JD had.

  “Excuse me. I need to shower.” Max’s voice came out so soft even he barely heard it.

  “They’re after you for killing that family, huh? You should have listened to me when I told you not to take the car. You’re regretting it now, I’ll bet.” Confused, he looked up at Tim, who stepped back and waved Max in. “Yup. You should have listened to Tim, and none of this would have happened.” He tucked his hands in his armpits and slouched against the door. “You still don’t remember the accident?”

  Max nodded, dropping his shoulders. Another confrontation; not what he needed right now.

  “I’ll bet you’re lying. I’ll bet the guilt is eating you alive.” The twisted smiled dropped from Tim’s face. “Go shower. You’re making me sick.” Max’s heart beat increased, and decided he’d better get away from Tim, fast.

  He grabbed some clean clothes and went directly into the bathroom. He stood in the shower, letting the water cascade down his weary body, glad the day was almost over. He’d been in all of three minutes when Tim pounded on the bathroom door.

  “You got one minute left, fat boy. You know the rules. You only get five minutes. You’re not throwing my money down the drain.”

  Five minutes? Max washed his hair and used the shampoo from his head to wash his body in an effort to save some time.

  After maybe thirty seconds, Tim beat on the door again. “Get out, fat boy, now. Don’t make me come in there,” he bellowed.

  Max turned the water off slowly so he’d have enough time to rinse the shampoo off. He hurried and dried himself just in case Tim had some time limit for using a towel. He put on some clean jeans and a yellow tee shirt. Combing his brown hair, Max quietly muttered, “We’re not in Kanas anymore.” How he missed his parents and his old life.

  He went straight to his bedroom. Too wound-up after the dumpster incident, and with nothing better to do, Max relented and pulled out his homework. Anything to avoid being around Tim. JD’s courses were easier than the ones he’d been taking, consequently his homework took him all of thirty minutes. He heard Mel come home as he lay on the bed shooting an imaginary basketball into an imaginary hoop. He jumped up to greet her.

  “Hi, mom,” Max said, relieving her of the fast food bags in her hand.

  “Hi, sweetie.” She gave him a kiss on the forehead. “How was school?”

  “Fine,” he lied. He got the impression JD didn’t usually share what happened to him at school with his mom.

  “Are you hungry?” She spread out two paper plates on the table, along with the fast food: fried chicken and mashed potatoes. From the looks of the potatoes, Max guessed they were instant, not real. She placed a large chicken breast covered in a crunchy topping on his plate and a huge scoop of faux potatoes. The way Max felt, he didn’t think he could eat it all.

  “Where’s Tim?” he asked, hoping she’d say he’d taken a header off a cliff and they’d never have to see him again.

  “Poker night, remember? He plays every Tuesday and Friday.” She bit into a leg, moaning. “I just love this chicken. Eat up, sweetie.”

  Max thought of his own mother. They rarely ate out, and when they did it was usually a place that served grilled, not fried, foods. Max was sure he never had fried chicken in his life. But technically, his life was over, so what did he have to lose? He bit down on the crunchy white meat and fell in love. The flavor exploded in his mouth. He ate the entire piece in two minutes.

  “That’s my boy,” she smiled, placing another large piece on his plate. He gave it a gallant effort, but he couldn’t finish the second piece, so he wrapped it up for his lunch tomorrow.

  “I need to do some laundry.” He’d not seen a washer or dryer. He hoped his mother would give him a hint as to where she kept it.

  “Remember, we don’t have a car, sweetie, so you’ll have to walk to the Laundromat. I’m sorry.”

  She cleaned up the leftovers as Max gathered up his dirty clothes, including his gym clothes, and shoved everything into a pillow case. He set the full bag down on the chair in the kitchen. The only Laundromat he knew of was Suds City, a good forty-five minutes away. “What time does Suds City close?”

  “They’re open twenty four hours, you know that.” Mel eyes narrowed on him. “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

  “Mom, I have nothing to wear, I have to go.” She nodded and searched her purse for some money, handing him a five dollar bill. “Be careful,” she said as he left.

  Max forgot to figure in the condition of JD’s body when he estimated the time it would take to get to Suds City. Between the extra weight of the clothes on his bac
k, and the near exhaustion of his body, it took almost an hour. He washed and dried the clothes, losing three quarters in the dilapidated machines. He didn’t get back until ten–thirty.

  He came home to an empty house, finding a note taped to the fridge: Went out with some of the girls from work. See you in the morning, Love mom.

  Max was too tired to care. He put his clothes away, placing his clean gym clothes in his backpack and flopped down on the bed fully dressed. He rolled over and looked up at the brown water stains on the ceiling. “One day. All of this was just one day.” It felt as if he’d lived a week in that one day. It felt like a lifetime since he’d seen Emma. He fell asleep immediately.

  Chapter 7

  “Wake up or you’ll miss the bus.” Max rolled over, trying to focus on the voice that called out to him. It didn’t sound like his mother, yet who else would be in his room telling him to wake up? And why did they think he needed to take the bus when his perfectly good Ford F-150 sat in the driveway. Of course, he’d rather it’d be a newer model, but at least he had transportation.

  “Get up, fat boy, or you’ll be hoofing it to school.” A harsh gruff voice spoke this time. The name fat boy hit Max like a wrecking ball as he remembered where, and who, he was.

  He dragged himself to the bathroom, hurrying as he stepped into the shower. Five minutes on the nose he shut off the water, toweled off, and got dressed. Thankfully, JD didn’t need to shave very often, so that saved him some time.

  His mother handed him two Pop-Tarts and a packet of Twinkies as he came out of the bathroom. “No time for breakfast, sweetie.” She shoved a brown paper bag into his backpack for lunch. “Hurry.” She kissed his cheek and opened the door. Max jogged to the corner as the bus pulled up.

  “I didn’t think you were going to make it.” Izzy grabbed his arm and pulled Max toward the bus. Only then did he notice his heart rate jump. Hello, fear, my new constant companion. How anyone could function with this much turmoil going on inside baffled Max.