suppressed another cough and rubbed his neck. “You’re a good kid.”
There was no point in dragging this out. It didn’t matter what he said anyway – it wouldn’t change anything. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
He closed his eyes and let out a tired yawn. “Shoot.”
“It’s just, something happened today. And I need to–”
He rolled over, facing into the couch, and adjusted the cushion under his head.
I dug my hands in my pockets. “Tomorrow I’m going away for a–”
A soft snore wheezed from his nostrils.
Maybe it was better to slip away without saying anything. I lifted a blanket off the floor and threw it over him. It’d be easier to tell him on the phone anyway. I climbed the stairs to my room. Goodnight, Dad.
21. No Easy Way Out
The red bricks of the Cannondale High School building emerged from the morning fog as I crossed Evermore Avenue. The gate to the lion’s den was a hundred feet ahead, and the lions hadn’t been taking their meds. I dug my hands into my pockets, and the icy air stung my throat as I breathed deep and continued toward the gate.
In the schoolyard, the janitor put his knee to the ground and picked up an empty bottle near a boarded-up window. As far as I knew, the faculty hadn’t figured out who broke into the school and stole the guitar. The janitor shook his head and tossed the bottle into his garbage bag.
I made my way up the concrete path to the school’s front door, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling, like people I couldn't see were watching. I could care less about never seeing this place again. The sooner I never came back, the better.
At the end of the path, I pushed open the door and stepped into a warm gust of air. The door to the admin office was open, and Rhonda Jackson, who only ever wore leopard skin leggings, oversized bangles, and age-inappropriate low-cut tops, sat behind the window. She peered at me with narrowed eyes, her fingers still clattering the keyboard. “Unemployment’s at twenty-two percent. You’ll need to stop this tardiness if you want to hold down a job after graduation.”
It was almost worrying to find that Kyle and Bundy weren’t waiting for me at the lockers. They could be planning anything after yesterday. They’d be planning it from jail if it weren’t for Kyle’s family connections.
Inside the empty stairwell, my footsteps echoed and my mind blanked about what to say to Allie. I’d been hung up on how to say goodbye, but really I just hoped she cared. I left the stairs at the third floor and made my way down the hall, past the scrawl of black graffiti and peeling floor tiles. No sign of Kyle or Bundy. My bad-luck fairy must be on vacation.
The door at the end of the hall was stenciled with 312. I peered through the small window and searched for a way to slip in unnoticed. Estelle was speaking to the class from behind her desk, pausing to lick her handkerchief and dab her owl-like spectacles. Allie sat at the back of the room, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.
I turned the handle and gently pulled open the door. The hinges let out a groaning creak, and the entire class looked up. Estelle stopped mid-sentence and squinted over her spectacles, the skin around her mouth wrinkling like a dried apricot. “Mr. Maddox, how good of you to join us.” She was known for having good days and bad days. On a good day she’d put on a movie and ignore us. On a bad day she’d unleash hell on whoever got in her way. Her dried-apricot scowl told me what kind of day she was having.
I stepped in and closed the door. Thirty students stared at me, checking out the latest cuts and bruises on my face. I weaved between desks to the empty seat next to Allie. As I approached, her eyes widened, and she leaned close and brushed her fingers across the graze on my cheek. “What happened?”
Without looking up, I could feel Estelle’s eyes burning into me. She needed to either say something or move on. I wasn’t in the mood. After a long pause, she let out a breath and turned to the whiteboard.
“We went back to that place where Drac hangs out,” I whispered.
Allie’s mouth went into a confused frown. “He hit you? I thought you paid him to be on our side?”
I shook my head. “Kyle did this to me, but Drac’s going to do worse if we don’t get him more cash by tomorrow.”
“What? Why?”
“He’s a crook. He works for Kyle’s old man.”
“Chief Swindon? Are you serious? How’s that possible?”
“Drac told Kyle about our plan to put the scare into him. He also gave him a heads-up about our visit yesterday. Kyle and Bundy caught up with us when we were–”
“Mr. Maddox,” Estelle boomed. “Turning up late wasn’t enough for you? You have to disrupt my class too?” If it was the satisfaction of a response she wanted, she wasn’t going to get it. She waited a long moment and then shifted her attention to the students at the front of the class. “We know about the Second World War, but what happened after that?” She clasped her hands. “Have the governments of the world learned any lessons about preventing war?”
In the front row, Stacy Fallbrook, whose loosely plaited ponytail hung down her back like an overfed snake, raised her hand. “World War 3 ain’t happened.”
“Open your eyes, man.” Sparky Donovan gazed out the window. “It’s happening around us. It’s called the War on Terror.”
Allie whispered, “Have they never heard of the Gulf Wars and Vietnam… or Korea?”
At the front of the room, Estelle cleared her throat and flicked the pages of a book.
Allie nudged my arm. “How’s Gordie and Raj doing?”
There was no good way of saying it. “They’re… leaving.”
She pinned me with a stare that made something inside me shrivel. “Leaving? What do you mean?”
“Kyle’s not joking around. He’s going to kill us.”
“We can figure this out.”
“Not this time. He told the cops we paid Drac to kill him. He’s going to kill us and say it was self defense.”
“He said that? Why would he…?”
“I’m getting on a bus with Raj and Gordie after class. We’re going to Chicago.”
She swept her hair behind her ear. “We should tell the Police. Kyle’s father might be the Chief, but he's only one man. They can help if he’s threatening you.”
“Already tried that. Kyle’s old man had a different idea of what he’d do to me.”
She straightened in her seat. “You spoke to his father? What did he say?”
“He said I’d end up on Missing Persons.”
She opened her mouth to speak, eyes glazed, but couldn’t find her voice. I rubbed my cheek, holding back a rush of emotion. We pretended to listen to Estelle for several minutes, and then she touched my arm. “What did your dad say when you told him you’re leaving?”
“I didn’t.”
Bang.
Estelle slammed the book she’d been reading against her desk. “Mr. Maddox,” she said, “since it’s so important you verbalize, how about you enlighten the rest of us?”
This wasn’t a good time to push me. I’d had enough of other people’s problems. If she wanted to take this further I’d gladly snap her shit up like a handful of dried spaghetti. I returned her stare with a look of boredom.
Eventually shifting her gaze, she raised her wrinkly hand and rubbed her forehead. “So, we’ve learned the League of Nations failed to prevent the Second World War. Can anyone tell me which organization replaced the League of Nations?” She scanned the room. “Anyone?”
Sparky called out, “The League of Extraordinary Gentleman.” He held his palm up high to his buddy Blake.
Blake smacked his hand. “Major League Baseball.”
Estelle’s expression remained flat, as if nobody had spoken. “In 1946, the League of Nations was replaced by the United Nations. One reason the United Nations is considered an improvement over the League of Nations is that it has the power to go to war.”
“I thought they were supposed to stop wars,” S
tacy said.
“That’s correct.” Estelle clasped her hands. “The goal of the United Nations Security Council is to enable cooperation and avoid violence. Military action can prevent innocent people from getting hurt, but it doesn’t always work.”
Stacy screwed up her face. “So the United Nations can start wars whenever it likes?”
“No, Chapter 7 of the United Nations Charter determines when the Security Council’s power can be used. When conflict happens, the member nations make recommendations for peaceful resolution. They have to work towards cooperation, but if that fails, they can authorize military action.”
Allie sat upright in her chair as if to get a better view of Estelle. A pigeon swept onto the window sill and ruffled its feathers, eyeing the classroom curiously, too dim-witted to realize how dull history class was. Allie tapped my arm and whispered, “We could do that.”
“Use the military? Kyle’s a baddie, but I doubt the Army would take him out for us.”
Allie smiled. “No, silly, the security council thing.”
This was one of those times I’d end up looking stupid for not knowing if she was joking. I studied her face, trying to figure out if she was serious.
“Imagine Kyle finding out you have an army of students backing you. He’d leave you alone for sure.”
“Why would anyone help me?”
“Because everyone who joined would be looked after. Who wouldn’t want that?”
“You mean like a gang?”
“Kind of, but it’d be about protection – like the United Nations Security Council. We’d create a charter so everyone knows the