Brutal Youth (19 page)

Davidek was spared attack only because of the lobbying efforts of Green and LeRose, but that wouldn’t hold out forever, and Lorelei was asked by Audra to reconsider her associations.

Then Audra smiled, a motherly smile. “Of course I’m already planning to pick you to be my little sister, but it would certainly make me look a lot better to the other seniors if you weren’t hanging around with that … pest.”

Lorelei was torn between wanting to cheer and wanting to cry. She would be protected, but the boy who had promised her the same might not—and was becoming a liability for her.

“Don’t think that being my little sister means I’m going to let you off the hook at the Hazing Picnic,” Audra warned playfully. “Let’s just say you better brush up on your Motown.”

*   *   *

Most of the freshmen feared the upperclassman attacks would just get worse, so they never accused anyone, although the parents of the victims had no problem calling Father Mercedes to complain. The priest continued terrifying the parish council with news that no one perpetrating these dangerous pranks had been caught or punished. “Can you believe Sister Maria can’t stop this?” he asked.

As teachers became more vigilant, a group of senior, junior, and sophomore boys decided a grand gesture was needed—aimed directly at the source of their problem. Stein would need to be punished, along with every other would-be tough guy in the freshman class.

School was ending for the day when a senior girl cried out in the parking lot with sinister glee: “It’s a pile-on!”

Davidek was walking from one of the side entrances along with Stein and a cluster of other freshmen when he saw the horde of upperclassmen charging. Their shirttails fluttered and book bags swung in face-crushing arcs as they ran bellowing toward the freshmen. Smitty was just a few feet ahead and turned his cool blue eyes on Stein, like he was considering tripping him so the seniors could pounce as he made his own getaway.

He didn’t have to. Stein dropped his bag and said, “To hell with it, I’m fighting these assholes.” Smitty, who knew there was no escape, straightened his shoulders and flared his eyes as a pendulous book bag collided with his jaw, smashing the big guy to the ground. Mortinelli, the broad-foreheaded junior who led the Fanboys, leaped onto Smitty’s shoulders, while two of Mortinelli’s pals flattened themselves against his kicking legs. Davidek dived to the ground as Michael Crawford and his friends closed in, and he was smashed beneath them as they heaved their bodies atop his in crushing pile drivers. A cluster of upperclassman girls were screaming “Pile
on
! Pile
on
!” like psychotic cheerleaders.

Davidek, gasping for air, looked through the tangle of legs and arms and saw three older kids—Bilbo, Prager, and Strebovich—triangulate on Stein, rushing forward and pounding him on the face and back, dropping him to the ground and rolling him back and forth with kicks.

Meanwhile, Mortinelli and some of the Fanboys still clambered over Smitty, who was standing again and swinging them from his arms like King Kong trying to break out of chains.

The guys crushing Davidek were getting bored with his lack of resistance, so they began to peel off and join the crowd around Smitty, the only one with any fight left. It was eleven against one. Smitty’s voice was hoarse, and spittle flecked from his mouth as he raised a finger, pointing toward Davidek, who had flattened himself against the wall, trying to find an opening to pull Stein out of his stomping. “Lay offa me,” Smitty said. “Let’s get
him
instead.”

Davidek started to run.

Smitty surged after his fellow freshman, leading the handful of seniors who had just been pulverizing him. They dodged through the parking spaces, weaving between the parked cars and onlookers watching the brawl. Behind them, Stein’s attackers had fled to join the chase, and he was staggering to his feet, swinging his arms at nothing, like a man besieged by bees.

Davidek dashed into the school bus, which was where Smitty and the other pursuers stopped, like vampires at the threshold of a church. The driver, a leathery, straw-haired woman with an ashtray voice, told them to clear away from her damned door.

The other kids on the bus were cheering—but for the guys outside. They made
buck-buck
chicken noises at Davidek as he slid into an empty seat.

Smitty smirked as he paced outside the windows of the bus, flanked by his new senior pals. “So they made you their bitch, huh?” Davidek said, his voice muffled by the pane between them.

Smitty laughed and brought his face close enough to steam the glass: “Better to be on top of the pile, I think.”

“And bully your own kind?” Davidek spat back.

Smitty’s smile broadened as he backed away, his arms raised in a what-are-you-going-to-do shrug. “Everybody is somebody’s bully,” he said.

Behind Davidek, a sinister-looking upperclassman girl with raven black hair sneered, “Pussy.” The freshman peered at her, squinting.

“What are
you
looking at?” she demanded.

Davidek shook his head. “Nothing.” Her eyes were both the same color.

*   *   *

Smitty walked back to get his bag and saw Stein wandering away from the site of his beat down, his blazer ripped at the shoulder, his clip-on tie torn off and hanging in the fist of his right hand. He had black grit stamped into his face and a couple bleeding scratches on his forehead. He sat on the sidewalk curb, waiting for his sister to arrive and pick him up.

Smitty loomed over him, his white shirtsleeves rolled up to show off bulging arms. “You sure you got what it takes to finish all the fights you start?’”

“Yeah,” Stein said, wiping his mouth. “So, you one of
them
now?”

Smitty shrugged. “Guess so.”

Stein nodded. “Then I’ll finish you, too.”

SEVENTEEN

On the last day before Thanksgiving vacation, classes were always suspended for the Turkey Bowl, an annual touch-football game held out on the old church field with the seniors and juniors facing off against the sophomores and freshmen. It wasn’t part of the hazing ritual, but this year, those hostilities had infected everything. Mankowski and Zimmer were the referees and had been instructed to eject anyone who got too violent. Sister Maria herself was watching from the sidelines, along with most of the rest of the school. Father Mercedes wasn’t around, but Ms. Bromine was, and she planned to report back to him.

Davidek was useless at sports—particularly football—but he showed up to play because LeRose said it would be a good way to ingratiate himself. Green warned Stein not to come, since he’d heard the older kids were hungry for an excuse to “accidentally” smash him into the semi-frozen ground. Stein had said maybe he’d show up anyway if they wanted a fight, then didn’t even come to school that morning.

At least two hundred spectators lined the field under a linty sky that made the sun a dim silver dollar. LeRose watched the game perched on the hood of his Mustang—he’d just gotten his license that weekend, and he wore a lemon yellow nylon workout suit with a Pittsburgh Steelers emblem stitched onto the back.

Davidek had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue
SEMPER FI
T-shirt his brother had once sent to him. Davidek liked wearing it, remembering Charlie, though it annoyed his parents, who said it just drew attention to what a coward he was. But no one at St. Mike’s ever mentioned Davidek’s brother, which made him feel sorry for Charlie. The world forgets easily, and then forgets that it forgot.

Davidek found himself on the sidelines most of the time. Smitty stood beside him, scratching his cheek. Breaking the silence, Davidek asked, “So, now that you hang around with the older kids, do you know Hannah Kraut?”

Smitty’s blue eyes never wavered from the field, but something in them intensified. “Why are you asking
me
about her?”

Davidek said, “I’m asking everybody.”

Smitty looked out into the field. “Don’t ask me again.”

“I just meant that—”

Smitty grabbed him by the neck, hard. “I said don’t ask me again.” And Davidek didn’t.

*   *   *

While the games went on in the field, there was another play taking place among the spectators. Leaning on the mirrored grille of her boyfriend Michael Crawford’s shiny black 4Runner, Audra Banes was buried in a big brown parka, standing beside her friends Amy Hispioli, Sandra Burk, and Allissa Hardawicky and shouting encouragement as her boyfriend gathered mud and torn grass on his clothes out in the field, quarterbacking for the team that always won this contest. Audra didn’t notice the dark-haired girl Zari and her jangly jewelry move up beside her.

Zari’s eyes focused across the field—not on the game, but on the trio of figures standing on the opposite sideline: Mary Grough; her little sister, Theresa; and their friend Anne-Marie Thomas. They were watching Zari right back.

“Where’s Lorelei?” Zari asked, making Audra jump a little.

Audra pulled back the furry hood of her coat. “Oh, God, I didn’t see you there.…”

“I’m Zari,” Zari said. “Lorelei’s friend. Remember?”

“Lorelei’s over there,” Audra said, pointing to the far end of the field, where there was a table set up with cups and a portable water cooler. “I put her in charge of keeping the boys hydrated.”

“Oh, right,” Zari said. Then, after a moment: “That your boyfriend out there?” Crawford had just thrown a spectacular pass and was pounding the backs of his teammates, sweat dripping down through his hair.

“Yeah, he’s going to need a bath,” Audra said, and Zari laughed loudly. Too loudly.

Across the field, the Grough sisters were like vultures waiting for something to drop dead. Zari wished they would stop staring at her.

“Lorelei’s right about him,” Zari said. “He’s cute.” Audra took a while to respond. She found her smile before she spoke.

“He
is
cute,” Audra said proudly.

Zari waited. That’s what the Groughs said to do:
Wait
.
Don’t rush in and start blabbing. Draw her out. Got it?

“Lorelei thinks he’s
really
cute. Man, she just goes on and on. The rest of us are, like, ‘Whoa, talk about something else, please!’” Zari said, laughing, which made Audra’s smile falter just a little. “I’ll bet you’re sick of it, too, right? Just blah, blah, blah!” She made a squawking gesture with her hand.

“Actually, Lorelei never mentions him,” Audra told her. “I’m sure Michael will be flattered, though.”

Zari groaned. “Not if he knew the other things she said! Or maybe he
would
!” The dark-haired girl laughed again, but Audra didn’t.

Audra moved Zari away from her other friends. “What …
other
things?”

That was the hook. The Grough sisters said:
You’ll just chat her up, very casual.… Then out of the blue, she’s going to want to know more. And that’s when you say …

“Nothing,” Zari said, her face solemn. “I just meant … you know, the details and all, of how she likes him. It’s nothing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Audra put a hand on Zari’s shoulder and looked down the row to where Lorelei was handing out paper cups of water. “What else has she been saying about Michael?”

Zari feigned distress. “Look, I wanted to tell you, because even though Lorelei and I are friends, I don’t think what she’s doing is cool. It’s just … not right.”

Audra was in Zari’s face, voice low. “What exactly is she doing that
isn’t right
?”

Zari hesitated again, like the Groughs had told her. “At first I just thought it was a crush, but then … after he picked her to be Miss St. Mike’s in that dumb beauty pageant, and after she’s been hanging around with him while hanging around with
you
 … She says she wants to do stuff to him, you know? Stuff she says you
won’t
do for him. Or can’t.”

“How does she know
what
I can and can’t do for him?” Audra asked, though she didn’t want that answered.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think he even notices her.”

“He
doesn’t
notice her,” Audra snapped. “He has me.” Then, regaining her composure, “This is too weird.”

Zari pleaded: “
Please,
don’t tell her,
please.
” Audra grabbed her elbow and said, “Let’s go talk to Lorelei right now. This doesn’t sound right.”

Zari dug in her heels as the student council president pulled her arm. “If Lorelei knows you heard this from me, I won’t be able to find out any more.”

Audra eased her grip on Zari. She walked back against the 4Runner, lifting her furry hood around her head. Zari stayed to watch the rest of the game but was careful not to go over to where the Groughs were standing. They had told her to avoid contact until later. Afterwards, when no one was paying attention, Zari slipped into Anne-Marie’s beat-up Ford Taurus.

“It’s done,” the freshman said. “Just make sure you sign up for me next week like you promised. And if you do anything horrible to me, I swear I’ll rat you out.”

“So you think she believed you?” Mary asked.

“Probably,” Zari said. “I can’t read minds.”

*   *   *

When the game was over, Audra and her friends piled into Michael Crawford’s tanklike vehicle to celebrate the victory at Kings Restaurant on the other side of the river in New Ken. Lorelei was about to get into the 4Runner when Audra signaled Amy Hispioli to close the door.

“Oh, sorry, Lorelei,” Audra said, rolling down the passenger window—partway. “Can you call your mom to get you?”

When Lorelei left for school that day, her mother had been passed out drunk on the couch, a cigarette smoldering in the clamp of her prosthetic. “She’s not home today,” Lorelei said. “You told me you would give me a ride.”

It didn’t make a difference to Audra. “Great. Well, see you later.…” And then, “Oh, hey … Do you know a girl named Zari? Is she a friend of yours?”

Lorelei nodded, still trying to hide her crushing disappointment. “Yeah, she’s nice. A little weird, but yeah … she’s cool. Why?”