Reject High (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 1) (7 page)

It was time for lunch, and I’d been looking forward to it since Sasha stopped by Freshman English. I was more nervous than hungry, and it didn’t help that the hot dogs were florescent, like they’d been cooked inside a nuclear reactor. Rhapsody would be here, too. Until now, the thought of balancing a friend and a girl interested in me never posed a problem. Maybe the note was a joke, and Sasha never intended to eat with me.

Of course, just my luck, she showed up in line a few people behind me. I pointed to where Rhapsody and I usually sit, and prayed my friend wouldn’t show up. Sasha agreed to meet me there by saying “okay” in the most tempting way possible. She must practice driving boys insane in the mirror every night before she goes to bed. 

I passed through the line, picking French fries and a mystery meat patty when my phone vibrated with a text message. It read, “Ur good. No evidence.”

Rhapsody had cut school, hitchhiked to the crater site, and checked out the scene? That’s a
real
friend. Now I feel guilty for eating lunch with a teen model, but wouldn’t it be rude not to?

Rhapsody and I would see each other after-school, anyway. Once I’d shoved a couple of French fries into my mouth, the nervousness building in my belly settled down. Asia joined us, and when she wasn’t chatting to some boy, she sucked her teeth at pretty much everything I said. 

“That’s a nice energy crystal, Jason,” Sasha said, eyeing my necklace. “Didn’t picture you being into stuff like that. Where’d you get it?”

I pulled down my t-shirt collar and dropped it underneath my shirt. “It’s from a friend.”

“That Goth girl?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. “You two are. . .”

“. . .nope, just friends.”

“Do you kiss all of your friends?”

She’d seen our performance last week. I stared down at the ketchup blotted on my plate. While I’m sure she might be a professional at the last item on her hobby list, I didn’t need to find that out. “Not all of them.”

“I’m gonna go.” She leaned into my ear and said her phone number
slowly
. “Call me.”

Sasha picked up her tray by the edges, stood up, and walked away. Asia followed her. I didn’t know where they went, but I hoped Sasha didn’t give another guy the same attention she had given me.
She’s not too selective with guys, especially if I made the cut.

When the bell rang to end lunch, I hoped that Peters wouldn’t say anything about yesterday during class, and Rhapsody would be available to deflect any extra attention he might throw my way. Sure enough, she bolted in at the last minute and propped herself up on her stool.

I opened my spiral notebook without looking in her direction. “Took you long enough.”

“Not everyone can leap towns at a time. I had to thumb it.”

She’d saved my butt, so I kept the wisecracks to a minimum. “Find out anything else?”

Rhapsody shushed me. Before I could protest, Peters stared us both down. His black eyes glinted, like he’d figured out something about us. “Problem, you two?”

We looked at each other. “No,” we said at the same time. 

Peters taught the lesson. Thankfully, it had nothing to do with me falling out of the sky yesterday and everything to do with rare earth minerals and radioactive isotopes.

We’d almost made it to the end of class and everything seemed normal. Which, of course, meant they were about to be epically bad. “Is he going to say anything?” I blurted out under my breath.

“Like what? ‘I was hiding in your trees last night.’ You know he’s up to something.”

Yeah, I did, but what? Say something instead of beating around the. . .well. . .bushes. “He doesn’t know
anything,
” I decided. “That’s why he’s sneaking around.”

Rhapsody bit her lip. “He
suspects
something. That might be worse.”

She’s right. The scientific method starts with a question. What was his? Did Rhapsody and I have anything to do with the event yesterday? If he followed the steps, Peters intended to
research
us.

How far would he go? He could have broken into my room and taken his time going through my things last night. The biggest piece of condemning evidence hung around my neck.

As if she read my mind, Rhapsody stopped my hands from lifting the necklace over my head. “Don’t take it off,” she whispered. “You don’t know what’ll happen.”

CHAPTER NINE

my science teacher wears ugly jewelry

Dungeon duty gave Rhapsody and me an opportunity to talk without the constant interference of a parent or teacher. Problem was, by the time three o’ clock finally rolled around, I wanted out of there. Worrying about someone dissecting me or giving myself away with an accidental show of strength was exhausting.

My thoughts strayed to Debra. She’d sent me a voicemail from the hospital telling me she’d meet me at
home.
Sleeping in my own bed instead of Aunt Dee’s old couch tonight would be a good thing.

It’s wrong to think so, but with her short-term amnesia, I hoped Debra forgot the accident
and
her plan to send me away to the Black Hole. If she hadn’t done any paperwork yet,
maybe
we could sort things out. With my home life in order, I could then tackle every other crisis that had popped up over the past day. There was Peters the stalker and my powers.
Whatever happens, I’m not wearing a spandex costume.    

“You’re quiet,” Rhapsody said. She grabbed a greasy white rag and dusted with it.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk, especially if she planned to dodge my questions. “Thinking.”

“About that girl, Sasha?” she asked casually. “She flirts hard, and usually not with just one dude.”

Word traveled fast, I guess. “Stepmom’s in the hospital, remember? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Sasha’s got a
rep
, you know. Ask anyone – I mean
anyone.
I’m just saying. Put a hazmat suit on before she does anything to you.”

“It’s Reject High,“ I shot back. “Everybody’s got a rep for
something.
What’s yours?”

That shut her up for a few minutes. “I don’t care about Sasha, really,” she said, glancing away from me. “Are you still in to help me find out about Cherish? I need to know.”

I laughed, the kind of laugh where nothing’s funny, but someone said something completely ridiculous to you. “No, I’m
not
. Not in. At all.”

Rhapsody cursed at me and positioned herself in front of my face, no matter what direction I turned. “What’s wrong with you,
Cap?”

“Get out of my face,” I said, gritting my teeth. “And my name’s
Jason.”

“Why’d you change your mind, huh? Are you
scared?
Maybe you’re the punk I first thought you were.”

We were supposed to be cleaning up, so I snatched the first thing I saw and slammed it down in a cleared out corner of the basement. The crack, loud and definite, alerted me to the fact I’d broken it. I didn’t care.

Next, I lifted the stack of boxes on my right. “And you’re like every Goth I’ve ever seen. You wear too much makeup and break rules because you think you’re supposed to.”

“Jason.” As she called my name, her voice rose in pitch, like the ceiling was about to cave in on my head and I should move. “Calm down
.”

I dropped the boxes across from the broken machine. “I’m the ONLY friend you’ve got, and you find brand new ways to piss me off every day. What’s it today?”

She put her hands up in surrender. “Seriously, breathe. You’re shaking.”

Her frantic hazel eyes pierced through me. My chest heaved, and sweat lined my armpits and ran down my spine. After wiping my brow, I stood still, like a statue. Rhapsody trembled a little, as if she’d been through a haunted house. Of course, she could have vanished and left me in the basement to fume. She didn’t, and not because she thought I’d hurt her. Maybe, I’d hurt
myself.

The first object I moved was an old, industrial-sized copier machine. From the looks of it, the thing had to weigh no less than a couple hundred pounds. The second was boxes of textbooks. I imagine each of them weighed about seventy-five pounds – and there were
four
of them.

I tasted cotton in my mouth. She’d triggered my powers – part of me thought –
on purpose.
Rhapsody knew getting me angry keyed my strength and figured out that joking about Sasha would get under my skin.
That’s
why she did it. She could care less who I talked to. She designed this as “practice” for my abilities. Thing is – out-of-control emotions also key my rage blackouts. Had both of them happened at the same time, I could’ve killed her without even knowing it.

I’d had enough. Rhapsody had toyed with my emotions one too many times, and that hurt more than cutting me open would have done. I left, knowing full well if I got caught, Welker would expel me. Fortunately, I dodged everyone and slipped Janitor Brad the bill Julia gave me so he’d forget he’d seen me leave. He folded it into his pocket and continued buffing the floors.

I crossed the street and waited for the public transportation bus to pick me up. Hopefully, it would arrive quickly, just in case Rhapsody decided to follow after me. My days as her stooge were over. After all, she was smart enough to figure out Cherish’s case by herself.

If she didn’t commit suicide, who killed her and why? I tried not to think about it, but it haunted me. This must be how Rhapsody feels every day. Cherish was her best friend, and she died barely two weeks ago. Doing what someone else tells me to do is practically impossible without starting a fight. All I wanted was a straight answer from her, for once.        

All
she
wanted was a straight answer, too.

The guilt piled on as the bus pulled up. So, instead of boarding it, I let it pass and then walked back across the street into Reject High’s parking lot. Could I get in as quickly and easily as I’d left? One could only hope. 

Something I saw there stopped me cold. My blood froze, and for a second I wished Rhapsody and I could have traded powers. I flashed back to the event yesterday, when a sedan had almost hit me. It was maroon, I remembered, with a pointed grill.
That same car
was the lone vehicle left in the lot. Whoever drove it was likely still in the building. 

I broke into a flat-out sprint to the side doors and found them locked. Janitor Brad wore headphones, and the motor of the floor buffing machine was obnoxiously loud. He’d never hear me knocking. I yanked on the handles, but my frustration didn’t translate into success. If I pulled harder, I’d break the handles or the doors would come off the hinges. There were no windows or doors directly into the basement. Even if there were, I doubted Rhapsody would welcome me back with open arms.    

Suddenly someone pushed the door from the inside. I stepped straight into Peters’ five-foot-wide chest.

“Mr. Champion,” he said, every bit as startled as I was. “What are you doing out here so late?”

I hate having to think on my feet. “Umm. . .phone call. I’ve got dungeon duty, and my cell doesn’t get any reception down there.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said, planting a vice grip on my shoulder. “I tried this morning, but you didn’t see me. C’mon. Walk with me to my car.”

“I really have to get back and finish my detention,” I said, nodding my head toward the building. “And the doors’ll lock, if I go.”

“It’s
3:56
,” he informed me, while checking the watch on his right wrist. “Your detention is over, anyway. Besides, this’ll only take a minute.”

That sounds like trademark serial killer speech to me. I’d power up, if I needed to. But if Peters got the jump on me, he could easily rip off the necklace and stuff me into his trunk, so I stayed on guard. This started to feel like a made-for television movie, with some unknown skinny black kid playing me.
“What’s it about?” I asked as we neared his car – an older Jupiter.

“I heard about your stepmom’s accident. Is she okay?”

As he opened his passenger side, I nonchalantly inspected the damaged front side, where he would have hit me. “Yeah, she’s doing better. Just a concussion, some scratches.”

“Good thing you weren’t in the car with her. They showed what was left of it on the news. It’s a miracle she survived.”

By the way Peters talked, his intentions and how much he knew were unclear. “I guess I’m lucky.”

“Yeah, you noticed that wicked dent in the front?”

I played dumb. “Where?”

Peters directed me to the crumpled red and silver metal underneath his right headlight and across his front bumper. “It’s what I get for texting and driving. As a matter of fact, it happened close to your stepmom’s crash. I hit
something
, but funny thing, whatever it was got away. It must have jumped free – a deer, maybe?”

When he said “jumped free” I almost passed out. My vision grew fuzzy, as if fur lined the outside of my eyes, and my brain started to hurt.
Is he trying to trick me into telling him the truth?
Rhapsody was right. He is up to something.
“Wow.”

“Yeah, I have no idea what animal could have done that. My sister sent me the prayer beads I’ve got hanging from my rearview mirror. She figured I’d need them sometime. Guess yesterday was that day. Or Jupiter makes really good cars. Your stepmom and I are alive.”

He volunteered up practically every piece of information I wanted, except for the big one: why he was hanging out at my apartment last night. I didn’t want to believe him, but he was convincing, and I didn’t have a good reason not to. “Need to get back. Catch the late bus.”

“Of course! Oh, yeah, there’s this, too.”

I half expected him to pull out a crowbar or a picture of me in the air out of his briefcase. Instead, it was a paper with an “A” written in black marker at the top. “You might as well have this now. Maybe it’ll brighten up your stepmom’s day.”

“Sure.” I rubbed my nose bridge. I hadn’t gotten an “A” in anything for a long time, but I couldn’t be happy about it because, well, I thought he was going to dismember me or figure out all of my secrets. “Thanks.”

“You and Ms. Lowe would do well to stick together. It’s excellent work.” He sounded sincere. Too bad his class was the only partnership we’d have after today.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, folding the paper into my pocket. “See you tomorrow.”

Peters unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt sleeves, rolled them up, and ducked into his Jupiter to start the engine. Maybe it was because he almost ran me over yesterday when I wasn’t looking, but I stopped to watch him drive off.

Before he put the car in gear, he opened the window to adjust the left side view mirror. That was when I noticed that, although it was about eighty degrees outside, he’d worn long sleeves today. When he flicked his wrist, I choked. I saw the ugliest silver and yellow gold bracelet I’d ever seen on his wrist. Embedded into its links, white stones surrounded a trio of rugged green stones that matched the color of my necklace prism.