Authors: Todd Mitchell
Then again, at least the message was different. The way I saw it, the messages were like keys to doors. I didn’t know which key was right until the door opened. And then the message would switch. So the fact that there was a new message meant I’d changed something. I’d opened a door.
Of course, I still didn’t know who the “you” referred to — Dan or me? Dan was going to die in twelve days, anyway. Was that what the message meant, or did Dan need to die sooner, before he hurt Cat? And if I got him to kill himself, would I even exist?
Some things you can’t think your way out of. Not ever. I tried to assure myself that when the time was right, the message would become clear. Until then, there was no point stressing about it.
I wolfed down some breakfast, grabbed Dan’s varsity jacket from his room, and headed for the garage before Teagan could ask for a ride. I didn’t want to deal with her on top of everything else.
The chill morning air slapped me awake. Frost glistened on the lawn and lined the edges of leaves. Good thing Dan’s jacket had been hanging in his room instead of collecting dust in his locker. The heavy cloth and padded sleeves comforted me as I drove to school and shuffled to the front doors. I expected the usual silent treatment from the students gathered there, but the moment I arrived on campus, I was the center of attention.
“Hey, stud, have fun at the party?” asked one guy in a
wink-wink
way that made me want to simultaneously punch him and puke on my shoes.
All morning, guys asked me similar questions, grinning stupidly like they couldn’t wait to hear my answer. Was this who Dan hung out with? If so, I could understand why he killed himself. I tried to ignore the guys, but the quieter I got, the more they pressed me for details while Dan grew increasingly irritated. And of course people asked about the wound on my forehead.
“I ran into a wall,” I told Dave, this guy in Dan’s second-period English class. I still had no clue what had really happened, but I figured if I came up with a boring answer, people would lose interest and stop asking. Big mistake.
“A
wall
?” repeated Dave. “Were you drunk?”
“Did you fly into it, Superman?” teased another guy.
“Naw. He probably crashed through it, like the Hulk,” joked his friend.
“Seriously, what happened?” asked Dave.
“I already told you, I ran into a wall,” I said, but none of them bought it.
The rumors spread quickly after that. For the rest of the day, people questioned me about getting my butt kicked by a gang or smacked by a tree branch or jumped by a ninja. I was more popular now than ever, and I hated it. Unfortunately, the more I downplayed things, the more people thought I must be hiding something juicy.
At lunch, Trent and Finn and a couple other guys at their table nodded to me, as if they expected me to sit with them. A few wore varsity jackets. Fellow football thugs. I approached the table, worried that Trent might say something about the jacket I wore, but he didn’t. Everyone acted friendly.
“Hey, Danny boy,” said Dave, the guy who’d given me crap about my head wound earlier. “We were just talking about you.”
“You were?” Dan churned. I had to stay calm. In control.
“It’s all good,” said Finn. He scooted over to make room for me. “Aren’t you going to sit?”
I set my tray down next to Finn’s, ignoring the rising tempest of Dan’s thoughts. If I walked away, it might make things worse.
“You looked like you were heading someplace else,” said Finn.
“No. I was just looking for someone.” The excuse wasn’t a complete lie — I’d been looking for Cat all morning, although I was fairly certain she’d skipped school today.
Finn raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“His girlfriend,” interjected Dave. “Cat-Lip.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said, a little too sharply. A few other guys looked over.
“Just a one-night stand, then?” teased Dave. “You heartbreaker. Is she the one who hit you?”
“Don’t be an ass,” said Finn.
“What?” exclaimed Dave. “I just want to know if she was rough. I hear freaky chicks are rough.”
“I heard she was trashed,” said this guy with hair so blond it looked white. “You see those pictures of her online?”
“What pictures?” asked another guy.
I thought of the pictures Cat would mention tomorrow. The idea that there were photos of her from the night she’d been raped being sent around sickened me. No wonder her island kept sinking.
“She’d have to be trashed to sleep with Dan,” joked Dave.
“That’s not what happened —” I started to say, but Dan rebelled. My face flushed and my breath caught. I focused on pushing him back.
“Whatever,” said Dave. “Everyone knows you two did it.”
“I’d do her,” boasted Trent.
“Cat-Lip?” asked Dave. “You serious?”
“She’s got a nice body.”
“Dude, she’s not all that.”
“I’m telling you, you’ve got to see these pictures.”
Dan raged, and my hold began to weaken.
Luckily, Finn intervened. “Grow up, will you?” he said, glaring at the other guys. “You’re acting like a bunch of sixth graders.”
“We were just joking around,” said Dave. “What’s the big deal?”
“How would you like it if I made fun of your girlfriend?” asked Finn.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Exactly.” Finn smiled, and several guys at the table nodded or chuckled. Immediately, the tension began to dissipate. Even Dave seemed to concede that Finn had a point.
“Don’t call her Cat-Lip,” Finn said. “She’s Dan’s girl. So we need to be nice to her. Right, Dan?”
Everyone’s attention shifted to me.
I stood, not sure how much longer I could hold him off. I needed to get away. Go someplace quiet until things calmed down.
For a second, my vision blurred. I stumbled and nearly fell. Then Finn was next to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and steered me toward the edge of the cafeteria.
“Don’t listen to them,” he said. “They’re just jealous because you got some action.”
I looked at Finn, perplexed. Did he really not know what Dan had done?
“Relax, man. We’re on the same team,” continued Finn. “That’s more important to me than some girl. Let’s just forget the whole thing, okay?”
“No,” I said. Cat deserved better than this. My face twitched and head jerked as I struggled with Dan.
“Look,” said Finn, pitching his voice so only I could hear. “We don’t need to make a bigger deal out of this than it is. What’s done is done.” He squeezed my shoulder. Hard. “Now, come on.” He tugged me back toward the table.
“Let go,” I said. Maybe I should have been grateful to Finn for helping me out, but Dan wouldn’t calm down. He kept raging against me, making my head scream.
Finn’s grip tightened. “I’m trying to look out for you, Danny. I throw the ball, and you catch it. That’s all you got to do. That’s how we win.”
I was trembling now. “Let go of my arm.”
“What’s your problem? If anyone should be pissed, it’s me,” Finn said. “I’m the one she liked.”
My control slipped for an instant. That’s all it took. Dan’s presence flooded into the gap and forced me aside. He wrenched his arm free and shoved Finn into a lunch table. Milk cartons spilled and trays clattered to the floor.
Finn scrambled to his feet. “Settle down,” he ordered.
Dan’s face burned. I’d never felt anything like it. His eyes narrowed and his ears throbbed with the pulse of his own blood as he charged after Finn. He’d become completely unhinged. It was like the fight in Cat’s secret house, when he’d been so clumsy with rage he kicked over the candles and started the place on fire. Both moments seemed stitched together, tight as the halves of a baseball.
The whole cafeteria rumbled with shouts, but I couldn’t make out what people said. All of Dan’s senses were fixed on Finn.
Finn broke out of Dan’s grasp and fell back, slipping on a tray. Dan jumped on him, lashing out with his fists. Pain erupted from his hand. I stayed close, trying to regain control before it was too late.
Dan kept punching Finn’s head and face and chest. Finn did his best to block the blows, but several connected. The gathering crowd grew silent, stunned by Dan’s violence. Finally, a security guard barged in and grabbed his arm. Then Mr. Huber helped pry Dan off of Finn. Still, the zombie struggled, spitting and twitching.
No one grabbed Finn. He got to his feet, brushed the food from his clothes, and touched his bleeding lip. He stared at the blood on his fingertips in stunned disbelief.
On the way to the principal’s office, I did everything I could to take back control. Dan seemed exhausted after his outburst. He retreated some, enabling me to find a small gap. I didn’t challenge him for control right away since I knew he’d overpower me. Instead, I fed his doubts, hoping to convince him to give up.
What’s wrong with you?
I whispered.
You’re not who you think you are.
The security guard sat Dan down in the outer office. Mr. Huber had taken Finn to a different room. Dan’s breathing gradually slowed. His pulse still raced and his skin tingled, but at least he wasn’t panting and twitching anymore.
Everything you do makes things worse,
I whispered to Dan.
Things would be better if you weren’t around.
I think Dan knew he’d done something bad. His thoughts curled inward, and bit by bit he gave in, surrendering his body to me.
By the time Mr. Huber stepped out of Principal Murphy’s office, Dan had withdrawn so much I could barely sense him.
“Principal Murphy will see you now,” said the school secretary.
I nodded and stood. I would have liked more time to solidify my control, but Dan didn’t put up any resistance.
Finn was already seated in the principal’s office. He held an ice pack, dotted with blood, in his lap. His top lip looked swollen, and a few flecks of blood rimmed his nostrils. Other than that, he seemed okay. In fact, both he and Principal Murphy appeared unexpectedly jovial, as if they’d been swapping football stories. Finn even turned in his seat and winked at me when I entered.
“Take off your cap, Mr. Franklin,” said Principal Murphy.
I removed the cap with one hand while brushing down my hair with the other.
Principal Murphy frowned. My clumsy attempt to hide the scab had only drawn more attention to it. “What happened to your head?” he asked.
“That was from before,” said Finn.
“I’m asking Mr. Franklin,” said Principal Murphy.
“I ran into a wall,” I answered.
Principal Murphy looked unconvinced.
“I tripped,” I added, although how a person might trip into a wall was beyond me.
The principal sighed and gazed at the files in front of him. “You two have been going to school together for, what, twelve years?” he asked. “And now you’re both starting varsity?”
“Yes, sir,” said Finn.
“This should be the time of your lives,” he continued. “Your best years.” He folded his hands on his desk and eyed both of us. “Now, I know you’re friends, but you need to understand something very important. This school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence. Any incident results in automatic suspension as well as expulsion from all athletic teams. And Coach said we have a shot at districts this year. Maybe sectionals. So it would be a shame to lose two class leaders to a silly misunderstanding. . . .”
I realized he was giving us a way out. He wanted to let it go — brush the whole thing under the rug.
“We weren’t fighting,” said Finn, glancing at me. “Dan was just joking around. Right, Dan? He was showing me a wrestling move and I slipped. We’re friends. We’ve been friends since kindergarten.”
“Mr. Franklin?” said Principal Murphy, peering over the edge of his glasses at me. “Do you have anything to add?”
Dan stirred again. I couldn’t tell what he thought, but one thing felt certain — if I screwed up, he would take control. And this time I might not be able to get it back.
I swallowed and tightened my grip.
“I’m not his friend,” I answered, stating each word clearly.
Because I’d started the fight, I was given a suspension. Two days. I almost mouthed the verdict before Principal Murphy said it. Part of me had hoped something worse might happen — that I would get expelled or sent to juvie, and then things would really change. But no such luck. The future unfolded, relentless as fate.
Finn got off with detention because he’d only been defending himself. Principal Murphy even commended him for doing the noble thing and not tattling on me. Then Finn asked Principal Murphy to take it easy on me, saying the scuffle wasn’t anything serious. No harm, no foul.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” said Principal Murphy. “It shows a lot of character, but rules are rules. Now, get to class.”
Finn thanked him and left.
I watched Finn through the window on the side of Principal Murphy’s office. He paused once he reached the hall and shook his head, as if scolding me for refusing his friendship.
On my way out, I took off Dan’s varsity jacket and hung it in his locker. I was pretty sure Dan would never wear it again. And neither would I.
Dan’s mom was furious when she got home. The school secretary had called her at work to inform her of the suspension.
“I don’t know what to do with you, Daniel,” she said, pacing the kitchen. “This acting out has got to stop. Maybe I should be stricter. Is that what you want? More boundaries?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think more boundaries will help.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” She picked up a dish and set it in the sink. That’s the thing about Dan’s mom — she always had to be
doing
something.
“I just made a mistake,” I said. “It’s no big deal.”
“You’re suspended. That goes on your transcript. What’s your dad going to think?”
That Dan’s a quitter,
I thought, recalling the conversation Dan had with his father.
“He’ll blame me,” she continued.
“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Is it attention? Is that what you want?”
“I don’t
want
anything.”
“I give up, Dan. I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re not acting like yourself.”