The Boy Who Killed Grant Parker (29 page)

BOOK: The Boy Who Killed Grant Parker
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“Nah, I made that up,” Roger said, his face creasing into a smile. “I'm not sure he even noticed you were gone.”

 

47

Monday I rode my bike to school despite the cold and a slick frost covering everything. I would have felt too conspicuous pulling up in the Camaro. Though Grant was convalescing at home and would not return to school right away, everyone in town already knew he was out of his coma and had been discharged by his doctors. Everyone in town had a cousin or friend or other informant who worked at the hospital. I had not heard from Penny or Tony or any of my new besties since the disaster at the Elks Lodge, since I had destroyed the purity of the Ashland homecoming tradition and left Penny a dowager homecoming queen.

My plan … well, I didn't really have a plan. My plan was to show up at school Monday morning and try to pretend like nothing had happened. I was still the boy who had almost killed Grant Parker, but I wasn't sure what that meant anymore now that Grant seemed on his way to making a full recovery. I just had to make it through the next six months, try to keep my head down and stay out of trouble. So my situation hadn't really changed all that much from where I began.

*   *   *

Delilah was loitering outside the entrance when I arrived at school, and my heart swelled with gratitude at the sight of her. I knew she was waiting for me and I was thankful for an ally. She walked me to class, distracting me with conversation as the needle scratched off the record and everyone stopped to stare.

Homecoming night was just a dim, hazy memory for me because of the booze. I knew I had made a fool out of myself, but unfortunately (or maybe thankfully) I did not have full recall of the sequence of events.

Penny was waiting for me at my locker when Delilah and I approached, and for the first time Penny seemed shy and uncertain.

She greeted Delilah in a friendly way but then turned her attention to me and in a soft voice said, “Luke, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

“I'll see you in class,” Delilah said without hesitation and walked on.

“How are you?” Penny asked, eying me warily. After the way I had acted at homecoming she was probably wondering if I was a complete lunatic. I had spent most of the weekend wondering the same thing. The jury was still out.

“Okay, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

“You really gave everyone a scare at the dance,” she said with characteristic tact.

“I can imagine,” I said with an understanding nod.

“Well, I'm glad you're okay.” She paused for a minute as she thought about what to say next, but since I already knew where this conversation was going, I tried to make it easy for her. After all, Penny really had always been nice to me. From the beginning.

“Listen, Penny,” I said, launching in before she could continue, “you're an awesome girl and I appreciate how nice you've been to me and all, but I think it's probably better if we just try to be friends. Maybe not see each other anymore in a … boyfriend/girlfriend kind of way.”

Her relief was palpable as I said this, and she let her breath go in a gust. “Yeah, I … I was kind of thinking the same thing. Not that I don't think you're great and all.”

“Sure, yeah,” I said with a nod. “I know. I just don't think I'm good boyfriend material right now. For anyone. I've got a lot of stuff to sort out.”

She smiled brightly now that the hard part was over and gave me a soft pat on my arm. “I totally get it,” she said. “Friends?”

“Absolutely,” I said, knowing as I did that Penny and I would probably never do more than just smile at each other in the hallway at school.

“Great,” she said, her whole manner transformed now that she had been let off the hook and no longer had to live as the girlfriend of the guy who had almost killed Grant Parker and then, as an opus, ruined homecoming before being shipped off to an asylum. “I have to get to class but I'll … I'll see you around.”

“Sure,” I said, but she had already turned and melted into the crowd of students moving through the hallway.

*   *   *

In my classes that morning people did stare, as if waiting for me to do something crazy. I couldn't blame them. And really it was no worse than my first few days at Wakefield when people had looked at me like I was an alien in their midst.

Delilah was waiting for me again after fourth period and accompanied me to the cafeteria. “Did Sherman call you into his office today?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I said with a shake of my head.

She blew out a sigh, fluffing her bangs in the process. “Well, I suppose there are some advantages to being an assumed attempted murderer.”

“I think that might be the only one.”

I thought that Delilah and I would take up an innocuous seat together in a corner of the lunchroom at a vacant table, but she strode confidently up to the designated dork-squad bench where Don, Aaron, and Josh sat.

Josh and Aaron gave me weak smiles in greeting. More like grimaces, really. But Don just glared at me. “Hello, Delilah,” Don said, intentionally omitting me from his greeting while still giving me a steely-eyed glare.

“Hey, Don,” I said, waiting for an invitation to sit down among them while Delilah made herself comfortable on the bench between Aaron and Josh.

“You're a total dick,” Don said, one of the few genuine things anyone in Ashland had said to me since my arrival.

“I know.”

“So, what now?” Don asked. “Grant's out of his coma and you're back where you started? Back with the dork squad? Isn't that what you call us?”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked.

“How about that you're sorry?” Don said. “Say you're sorry for being a dick and wrecking the fort and generally acting like a major douche bag since you almost killed Grant.”

“I am sorry,” I said. “I never wanted anything bad to happen. I don't know how things got so fucked up.”

“You did it to yourself,” Don said. “It's like in
Spider-Man
, when Peter Parker's uncle tells him that with great power comes great responsibility.”

“I think Peter Parker's uncle stole that quote from the Bible,” I said.

“It doesn't matter,” Don snapped quickly. “I'm making a point. You were irresponsible with the power you got from putting Grant in a coma.”

“I didn't intentionally put Grant into a coma,” I said. “I didn't want any power. It just … happened.”

“Do you think Peter Parker wanted to get bitten by a radioactive spider?” Don asked in almost a shout. “Of course not.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered and gave Delilah a pointed look, but she just averted her gaze and ignored me. “I said I was sorry. Okay? I am sorry. I don't want to hang out with Tony and Chet and Skip and those guys. As much as it pains me to admit it, I would much rather hang out at the fort drinking beer and watching sword fights.”

“There is no fort,” Don said. “Not anymore, thanks to you guys.”

“Well, maybe I could come by when I'm not working and help you guys rebuild it.”

Don thought about that for a minute as he built a cracker sandwich from his Lunchable. “Yeah, okay,” he said grudgingly. “We'll be down there during the day on Saturday putting things back together.”

“I'll be there,” I said.

*   *   *

That afternoon Delilah and I walked home from school together. I held my bike by the handlebars and wheeled it beside me as we strolled along.

“Just think,” Delilah said, “in ten years we'll look back on this whole thing and laugh. I'll say, remember that time you almost killed Grant Parker? And it won't seem so terrible. Besides, now that you ruined homecoming, nobody really cares about you anyway.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better, or worse?” I asked. “Sometimes I can't tell.”

“I'm your friend. I'm only supposed to tell you the truth.”

“You are my friend,” I said, feeling suddenly sentimental. “Maybe the only one I have.”

“Maybe,” she said as she took my hand and twined her fingers through mine. “Or maybe the only one who knows you're a crazy person but likes you anyway.”

 

ALSO BY
KAT SPEARS

SWAY

BREAKAWAY

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

KAT SPEARS
has worked as a bartender, museum director, housekeeper, park ranger, business manager, and painter (not the artistic kind). She holds an M.A. in anthropology, which has helped to advance her bartending career. She lives in Richmond, Virginia, with her three freeloading kids. She is also the author of
Sway
and
Breakaway
.

Visit her online at
www.katspears.com
. Or sign up for email updates
here
.

    

 

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CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

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