The Changelings (War of the Fae: Book 1) (3 page)

Next thing I knew, his stupid backpack had swung off his shoulder and hit me in the arm, knocking me off the sidewalk to land in the grass on my butt under a big tree.
 
A cascade of leaves fell from out of the tree, landing around me in a shower.
 
I hadn't even touched the tree at all.
 
Sad to think it was the percussion of my ass hitting the ground that had caused the tree to shed its clothing like that.

"
Aaarghh!
" I yelled out as I went down, "Tony what the hell is your problem?!"

"Oh crap, sorry!"
 
He stopped struggling with his bag and rushed over to help me up.
 
"Are you hurt?"

We both stopped when we heard the next sound.

"Yo!
 
Look at the two lovebirds under the tree over there.
 
Whaddya doin' over there, dorks?
 
Having a picnic?"

Brad Powers strikes again.
 
He not only spends his time wooing the hearts of assistant principals and teachers everywhere, he also likes long walks on the beach, reading poetry, and making students who don't look like Barbie dolls feel like complete a-holes.

I stood up, brushing myself off.
 
"Yes, Mr.
Flowers!
 
We
are
having a picnic!
 
Why don't you come over here and join us?
 
I have something special for you to EAT!"

Tony started sweating.
 
I saw it beading up on his forehead.
 
He pleaded, "Jayne, don't do it.
 
Just shut up; he's going to pound us."

"Pound us?
 
I highly doubt that.
 
I'm pretty sure I can take him."

"What'd you say,
bitch?"
 
Brad was crossing the street, obviously planning to come join our picnic.

Tony started to go into full breakdown mode.
 
"Jaaayyne, he's coming over heeere!"

"Shut up Baloney, I can see that.
 
Let me handle this."
 

Tony stood up straight, suddenly resolute, and no longer messing with his bag.
 
"No way, Jayne, you'll get your butt kicked.
 
Step aside."

I was in shock for a split second.
 
My little boy was growing up before my eyes – but there was no time to ponder and sigh.
 
First, I had to save my life and the life of my best friend.

Before shit-for-brains could get too close, I stepped out to meet him partway.
 
That was at the curb where luckily I gained about five inches of height, making me only a few inches shorter than him instead of, like, eight.

He launched the first volley.
 
"You got somethin' to say,
Freak?"
 
He stopped about two inches from me and engaged me in the high school fighter's stare down.
 
I kick
ass
at that, so I gave him my best stuff.
 
I can look crazy cool with my stare down.
 
At least I think so, but Tony says it just stops at 'crazy' and leaves out the 'cool'.

"Yeah, I got somethin' to say Flower Boy.
 
Go fuck yourself
... how 'bout that?"

The next thing I knew, I was back on the ground under the tree with what felt like the aftershocks of a face plant into a wall, echoing across my chest.
 
Did he just touch my boobs?
 
Crap, my butt is gonna be sore later.
 
More leaves sprinkled down around me.
 
It was starting to look like Fall in that one small space next to the sidewalk.

Before I could think anything else even more ridiculous I heard Brad say, "Whoa, hey little dude, just chill."

This is me now: head tilted to the side, confused look of the family dog on my face ...
 
Do I hear fear in the voice of my worstest enemy, aimed at my bestest friend?

Yes, I did.
 
I looked over to see my beloved Tone-Tone, pointing what was definitely a real, live nine-millimeter handgun, at Brad Powers ... on the sidewalk ... in public ... not twenty yards from the front of the school.

"Tony what the hell?!"
I screamed, sounding like a freaked out girly girl.

"Don't worry about it, Jayne; I got this one."
 
His face was set with grim determination as he stared at Brad, the gun pointed right at his chest.
 
I'd never seen Tony look like that.
 
Sweet little Tone-Tone.
 
Shy little Tony Baloney.
 
Frankenstein-messed-up-shoes wearing Tony Green – who right now looked very much like a small and skinny but still very badass Rambo.

"Um, Tony, I don't really know what the hell is going on right now, but you need to put that thing away ... like
now!"

Brad's self-preservation instincts must have just kicked in then because he chimed in with, "Yeah, Tony, you should put that away.
 
You don't want to shoot me, you'll get kicked out of school."

Brad was nobody's dummy apparently.
 
I knew this line of reasoning would get to Tony for sure, or at least I thought it would.

"Screw school, and screw you too,
Brad
."
 
The last word was said with such venom, even I was a little scared at this point.
 
Who was this kid, and what had he done with my best friend?

"Brad?" I asked carefully, "What did you do to Tony?"

"Nothin'!
 
I didn't do anything to this little nut job ... he's freakin' out!
 
It's got nothin' to do with me!"
 
He was trying to back up without taking his eyes off the gun in Tony's hand.

Tony responded very coolly.
 
"He pushed you down, Jayne; he insulted you.
 
He treats you like you're a piece of garbage.
 
That's not nothing."

To say that I was stunned would be an understatement; but the analysis of this interesting turn of events would have to wait for a time when I wasn't actually fearing that Brad shit-for-brains was going to die at the hands of my best, but misguided, friend.

"Tony, dude, it's nothing; he's not worth it.
 
It doesn't bother me, I'm totally fine.
 
Put the gun away and let's get the hell outta here."

I could see him relaxing a little bit, thinking.
 
His grip on the gun loosened ever so slightly.
 
Brad and I waited for Tony's next move.

"You heard her, Powers ... get the hell out."
 
He gestured with the gun, encouraging Brad to move.

Brad didn't need to be told twice.
 
He turned and sprinted away like I'm sure he does on the football field every week, not that I bother to going to school games or anything.

Tony lowered the gun, bending over to pick up the backpack he had abandoned on the ground.
 
He casually put the gun inside, zipping the bag up in one, quick motion.

I, on the other hand, was standing there frozen in place, still in shock over what I'd just witnessed.

"Come on, Jayne, let's go."
 
He threw his bag over his shoulder and reached out to grab my elbow.
 
I let him take it because my autopilot seemed to be jammed or something.
 
It was easier at this point to let him call the shots.
 
We started walking and my mind started racing.
 

What the hell had just happened back there?
 
I snuck a peek at him sideways.
 
He still had that weird, determined look on his face, but otherwise he was old Tony Baloney in his dorky clothes again.
 
I wasn't sure exactly what to say, and I was pretty sure I should be delicate about it, but as you probably have guessed by now, subtlety is not really my style.

"TONY!!!!" I screamed.
 
I stopped walking, turning to face him.
 
"WHATTHEFUCKWASTHAT??!!"
 
I was definitely freaking out.

"Jayne, don't make a big deal out of it ... come on."
 
He tried to urge me forward, but I wasn't having any of that crap.

"I am
not
leaving this spot until you tell me what the hell that was all about!
 
I'm serious!"
 
I crossed my arms for emphasis, as if this would scare my best bud who had now revealed himself to be some sort of commando ninja guy.

"We'll talk about it at my house, I promise.
 
Can we just go?
 
I don't want anyone finding me out here with this thing."

"Okay, yeah, that thing, that
thing
that happens to be a
gun
.
 
I could see why you wouldn't want to be caught with that."
 
We started walking again, me filling up the empty space with my hysteria.

"Because that would mean you'd go to jail and leave me at this shitty school by myself with all these losers who have nothing better to do than crap on me and my friends, not to mention my mother's asshat boyfriend who..."

Oops.
 
I'd almost spilled the beans there.
 
I tried for a quick recovery.

"Anyway, you need to get rid of that thing.
 
I'll back you up if shithead tries to turn you in or anything."
 
I focused really hard on looking straight ahead because I knew if I looked Tony in the eyes, I'd cave.

 
"What are you talking about ... your mother's boyfriend?
 
What's he got to do with anything?" he asked pretty casually, all things considered.

"Nothing ... he's got nothing to do with anything.
 
At all.
 
Forget I said anything."
 
The nervousness was setting in, making me feel sick to my stomach.

Tony stopped walking and grabbed my arm.
 
"Wait, Jayne, stop for a minute.
 
We should talk about this."
 
He was speaking softer now and sounded so ... patient.
 
I know that sounds stupid, but that's what it seemed like.
 
And because he was being so sweet, it made me feel even worse, not better.

I stopped walking but refused to turn and look at him.
 
He used his puny muscles to push my arm back, effectively turning me around so he could see my face.
 
I refused to meet his eyes, and he knows me well enough to know that's a dead giveaway.

"Look at me, Jayne, come on.
 
Talk to me about what's going on."

I couldn't look at him.
 
I didn't want to cry, and I knew if I looked at him I wouldn't be able to hold it back.
 
I had this secret shame thing going on that I didn't even like thinking about myself, let alone talking about it with Tony.

I took a deep, calming breath.
 
Actually, it was more a wavering breath and not so calming, but I was giving it a try anyway.
 
"I don't wanna talk about it now ... actually not ever, really.
 
Let's get outta here."

I turned, walking away quickly.
 
Tony let me go.
 
I felt him come up beside me, and we walked together in silence the rest of the way back to his house.
 
I used that time to get a grip on myself.
 
Mission partially accomplished, autopilot engaged.

***

Tony's place was empty as usual.
 
His parents are workaholics; I almost never saw them.
 
Tony's an only child who has tons of freedom and opportunity to get into trouble.
 
Up until today, he's never taken advantage of that.
 
I guess he was saving it all up for one, big event.
 
With a gun.

"Wait here," said Tony, dropping his backpack on the ground inside the door.
 
He ran upstairs to his room where I could hear him stomping around, slamming doors and scraping what sounded like furniture across the floor.

A couple minutes later he was downstairs with a bigger backpack in his arms.
 
He dropped it next to his school backpack.
 

"Let's get something to eat."

"What's that big bag for?" I asked.
 
"Does this have anything to do with the news you said you had, before we were accosted by Mr. Turdsville?"

He ignored me and went to the kitchen.
 
I stared at the bag hoping some sort of x-ray vision skills would kick in for me, but no such luck.
 
The mystery bag stayed put, and I turned to follow Tony to the kitchen.

When I got there, he was busy pulling things out of cabinets, laying them out on the counter.

"Um, I'm really not
that
hungry, Tony."
 
I was still feeling queasy, even though the moment of madness had passed.

"That's okay, you'll be hungry later."

"Yeeaaah ... and then I'll have dinner, so I won't need all these ... " I picked up the nearest box he had set down, " ... granola power health bars."

"You're not going home for dinner," was his response.

Now I was confused
and
seriously concerned for my friend's mental health.
 
Even more than I already was.

 
"What do you mean, I'm not going home for dinner?"

"I mean, you're not going home for dinner.
 
We're getting the heck outta here.
 
We'll eat on the road."