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Authors: Brent Hartinger

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BOOK: The Last Chance Texaco
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"What are you doing?" Nate said.

 

"Seeing if it's okay." It wasn't. The black feathers on its head were already matted with blood, and its neck looked twisted. But at least it was still alive. It was lying on the ground, twitching.

 

"It's just a crow," Nate said.

 

"So?" I said.

 

"Well, you know. A
crow
."

 

As I watched, the crow tried to stand. But its legs and wings weren't working right. It fluttered, but didn't go anywhere. It made a noise, but not like the "caw-caw" a crow usually makes. It was more of a squeak.

 

"You're wrong," I said to Nate, my eyes still on the wounded bird. "Crows are really smart. They're the smartest birds by far. They hide food but always remember where. And they're social too. They watch out for each other, even share food and stuff. They also have this kind of language where they can talk to each other."

 

"But they're mean," Nate said. "And they pick up garbage! And don't they, like, steal food from other birds?"

 

"Well, they have to eat. What are they supposed to do?"

 

Nate kind of snorted. "Never heard anyone stick up for crows before."

 

I let my garbage sack slip to the ground. Then I took off my jacket and handed it to Nate. "Hold this," I said. I started taking off my sweatshirt.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"I'm going to pick it up and put it somewhere safe. That way, at least it won't be eaten by a cat during the night. Maybe it'll live long enough to be able to fly again."

 

"You're not going to touch it, are you? Couldn't it have a disease?"

 

"I won't touch it. That's what my sweatshirt is for."

 

I bent down again. Nate moved closer too, but not as close as me.

 

The crow wasn't even trying to flutter now. It just twitched. Not like it was scared or nervous. Like it was dying.

 

It twitched one more time, but then it stopped.

 

I knew it wasn't going to move again, no matter how long we stared at it. I'd just watched something die, and it was the saddest thing I'd seen in a really long time. Even so, I couldn't look away.

 

"Well, that completely sucks," Nate said softly.

 

I didn't say anything, just kept staring at the dead crow. A second later, I realized that Nate was still staring, but not at the bird anymore. At me.

 

"What?" I said.

 

"That really makes you sad, doesn't it?"

 

Suddenly, I felt cold and exposed. I stood up again and started slipping back into my sweatshirt. "So?" I said.

 

"So I just wouldn't have expected you to care so much about a bird."

 

Why? I thought to myself. Because I was a groupie, and therefore an inhuman monster? Suddenly, I wondered what the hell I was doing talking with Nate Brandon anyway.

 

I was just about to tell him to go get choked when he said, "Wait. That didn't come out right."

 

I still wanted him to get lost, but I couldn't very well say something snotty right after he'd basically apologized to me. So I was just about to make some stupid excuse about having to get back to work. But before I could say anything, something starting shining on his face, casting a metallic glint in his eyes. He looked for the source of that glint--something directly behind me--and his face got tight.

 

I turned to see what he'd seen.

 

For a second, the glint blinded me too. Then the light moved off my face, and I saw that it was coming from gold jewelry blazing in the afternoon sun. Of course, that jewelry was being worn by Alicia, who stared down at us from the top of the nearby steps. From her point of view, Nate was holding my jacket, and we'd been having a happy little conversation. Alicia didn't look pleased about it.

 

On the contrary, she looked downright pissed

 

• • •

 

That night, I woke up again to the sound of screaming. At first, I thought it was Yolanda. But then I heard it again, and it was coming from out in the hall. Next I heard muffled shouting, the pounding of footsteps, the slamming of a door, and more screaming. I couldn't hear anything clearly, but I knew they were male voices.

 

Ben and Roberto.

 

There was an eerie silence. I turned on the light and looked over at Yolanda. She was sitting up in bed too. I stepped across the room and opened the door. Other doors were opening, everyone except for the room shared by Juan and Roberto. We were all staring out into the hallway, peering at each other, but nobody said a word.

 

Suddenly, there was more screaming, and scuffling, from inside Juan and Roberto's bedroom. Then the door burst open and Gina flew out into the hall.

 

"Go to bed!" she shouted at us as she ran toward the phone. "Everyone get back in your rooms and close your doors!"

 

No one moved. As fast as things were happening, it seemed like we kids were moving in slow motion, like it was an episode of
Star Trek
and we were somehow outside the flow of time.

 

"
Do it
!" Gina screamed.

 

I knew what was going on. Roberto was having another meltdown. Ben had gone in to do a random spot check, and Roberto had snapped. Or maybe he and Juan had gotten into a fight and woken up Ben and Gina. I'd seen stuff like this before, way too many times. I didn't need to see it again. I figured Yolanda didn't need to see it either. So I closed the door on it all.

 

I went back to bed and turned out the light. For the next hour or so, there was more shouting, and more pounding footsteps, and lots of murmuring. Eventually, things quieted down again, but once again I wasn't able to fall back asleep.

 

At breakfast the next morning, Roberto was gone. This time, we didn't need Damon to tell us what had happened. Everybody knew. Roberto had screwed up one too many times. He'd been sent to You-Know-Where Island.

Chapter Eight

The following Monday, Nate passed me in the hallway on the way to fourth period. He was with a couple of his friends, but he must have already told them about me, because he came right up to me and said, "Hey! I just remembered something else I found picking up garbage. Noah's Ark! It was at the bottom of the pool!"

 

I stared at him, his face as unguarded as an open garage door. But I didn't say anything, and I didn't smile at all. I'm not sure what came over me. I knew he wanted me to laugh with him, but I just couldn't.

 

Nate glanced over at his friends. Behind their dimples, they looked plenty confused.

 

Nate looked back at me and waved a hand in front of my face. "Hello?" he said. "
Noah's Ark
? Something I found picking up garbage? What we do every day after school?"

 

But I still didn't react. "I got class," I said. Then I stepped around him and headed down the hall.

 

• • •

 

For the rest of the day, I felt like crap. I knew I'd been a bitch to Nate in that hallway. I tried to tell myself that it was only Nate Brandon--the same guy who'd threatened me and made fun of my being from a group home. And that being friends with him wasn't worth having Alicia even madder at me than she already was. But some part of me knew that Nate had been pretty decent to me lately, and it had been lousy of me to dog him like that.

 

Even so, I wasn't ready to face him again. So I made a point of avoiding him when I was picking up garbage that afternoon--and I think he made a point of avoiding me too.

 

I took the bus home. As I stepped into the front yard of Kindle Home, I saw Emil leave the house and climb into his car, parked in the circular driveway out front. He drove a gigantic SUV that put his head about five feet above the top of almost any other car. Somehow, this just figured. I hoped he couldn't afford to make the payments on it. As he pulled out and started driving away, I noticed that his left taillight was burned out. With any luck, the greedy gas hog would get a ticket.

 

I still felt crappy and was in no mood to see other people, but I was supposed to check in with one of the counselors by four o'clock, the time I was scheduled to be home. So I went inside and checked in with Leon. Then I went back outside, grabbed a basketball from the garage, and walked around to the backyard. Someone had turned the old tennis court into a basketball court, but the concrete was now cracked and uneven.

 

I shot hoops by myself for a few minutes before I heard Leon's voice say, "Can I play?"

 

"Sure," I said. Truth was, I'd kind of been hoping he'd join me.

 

We played one-on-one for a while. At any second, I expected him to stop dribbling and ask me why I was out back playing basketball by myself. But he never did.

 

Finally, I was the one to stop.

 

"Something on your mind?" he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the bottom half of his T-shirt. Unlike Ben's, his chest was smooth.

 

"Kinda," I said.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I don't know." I fiddled with the ball. "It's just that there's this guy." Without the ring of the bouncing basketball, everything seemed so quiet. It sounded like I was shouting.

 

"Yeah?" he said, perking up.

 

"It's not like that," I said, quieter. "He's just a friend. At least, he was. Oh, hell, it's Nate Brandon."

 

"The kid you hit?"

 

I nodded.

 

Leon's face got serious. "What'd he do now?"

 

"It's not like that either."

 

"Well, why don't you tell me what it is like?"

 

So I did. I told him everything, start to finish. How I'd given Nate the Happy Meal box, how he'd shown me the garbage under the bleachers. How we'd watched that crow die by the tennis courts, and how I'd dogged him in the hallway.

 

Leon just listened. When I was done, he didn't say a word.

 

"Well?" I said.

 

"Well, what?"

 

"Don't you have any advice?"

 

"Yeah. Get a handle on the ball, would you? You were double-dribbling like crazy."

 

"I mean about Nate!"

 

He grabbed the ball from me and took a shot at the basket. He missed. "Damn," he said under his breath. Then he said to me, "You like this guy, huh?"

 

"No!" I said. "I already told you that!" But at the exact instant I said this, I suddenly remembered the smell of Nate's aftershave.

 

"So you're just friends?" he said.

 

"Yeah!"

 

Leon went to retrieve the ball. "So why'd you ignore him in the hallway?"

 

I thought for a second. I'd been trying to answer that question to myself all afternoon. I hadn't really come up with much.

 

Because of all the things he said to me," I said at last. "Because he threatened me."

 

"But I thought you said he'd been nice to you lately. And that he'd only said those things before because his brother had been stabbed by someone from a group home."

 

Suddenly, Leon was pissing me off. "Because of Alicia, then! Because I know how she'll react if she sees us together again!"

 

He tossed me the ball, then nodded toward the basket. I took a shot, but I missed too.

 

I looked at him. "What? You don't think that's a good enough reason?"

 

"I didn't say that," he said, going after the ball again.

 

"Then what do you think?"

 

He stopped and stared at me. "I think if you want to go through your whole life alone, it might be easier to just wear a sign around your neck that says 'Don't talk to me.'"

 

"What?" I was confused. What was he saying? That I'd dogged Nate in the hallway because I'd wanted him to leave me alone? Then I remembered what I'd overheard Leon telling the other counselors that day when I'd been listening from the Magic Step--that because I'd been rejected so much in my life, I pushed people away before they had a chance to get close to me.

 

"That's not it!" I said. "It's not like I want to be left alone!" I
didn't
want that. And I didn't always push people away either. I was friends with Yolanda, wasn't I?

 

"Okay," Leon said, lining up for another shot. "Forget I said anything." He took a shot at the basket, and of course this time he made it. The ball didn't even hit the rim. "But now I should go cook dinner."

 

"Wait!" I said.

 

"Sorry," he said. "Really gotta get moving."

 

Then he was gone, and I was even more confused than before. Was Leon right? Was I
afraid
of getting close to Nate Brandon?

BOOK: The Last Chance Texaco
12.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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