“Does he still spend a lot of time at the track?”
“There, and at the casinos. Time and money,” said Kofi. “Way too much of both. Every credit card we have is charged up to the max, plus he has several of those payday check-cashing loans to pay back.”
“Does he ever win?”
“Sometimes. He comes in whooping about how he won a thousand dollars at the slots. But he forgets that he lost two thousand trying to do it.” He took a bite of the slice Dana held out to him.
“Just think, in a few months you’ll be far away from all of this,” Dana reminded him.
“But what’s going to happen to them if I leave? They’ll end up evicted in no time.”
“You’re the kid, not the parent here, Kofi!” she told him sternly. “It’s not your responsibility to take care of them! They’re adults!”
“If I go off to college, I’ll probably come home and find them living in a cardboard box downtown.”
“Well, if they are, you just stop by the box and say hello, kiss them both on the cheek, then leave them there! You’re not responsible for what your parents do…or don’t do.”
Kofi looked up at the cracked ceiling. “I guess you’re right,” he admitted.
“I know I am.”
Sitting on the worn, lumpy sofa with Dana, listening to the rain outside, made Kofi feel better than he had in a while.
“My parents love me, you know,” he said finally.
“Of course they do.”
“Maybe I’m having second thoughts,” he said, rubbing the fuzz on his chin. “It wouldn’t hurt for me to stay home for a couple of semesters and keep an eye on them. Maybe I can get a better job, a full-time job, and save more money for school.”
“Kofi Freeman! If you give up on MIT, I will break up with you—no lie!” she warned.
“You wouldn’t!” he said, checking her face to see if she was serious.
“No more of these sweet, juicy kisses. No more hugs on this hot, sexy body!” Her words were teasing, yet her tone was not.
“I couldn’t handle that. I’d go flush myself down the toilet!” He leaned over to kiss her, putting his hands around her waist.
She pulled back, however. “I’m dead serious, Kofi.” Then she looked thoughtful. “Have you checked your mail today?”
“It’s raining, girl. Gimme some of them lips.”
“No. That letter might have come from the McDonald’s scholarship folks. Go check your mail.”
“You cold, Dana.”
“Mailbox first. Dana body next.” She folded her arms across her chest and grinned at him.
“Do you know how many teenagers work for McDonald’s?”
“Thousands, I’m sure.”
“And how many do you think applied for that scholarship money?”
“Lots.”
“So what makes you think I have a shot at it?”
“Because you’re cuter than the rest of them! Now go check the mail!”
He pulled his long body up from the couch, stretched, and gazed at his saucy girlfriend. I’m the luckiest dude in the world, he thought.
“Why are you cheesin’ like that?” she asked.
“Just thinkin’ about you and me.”
She smiled. “I can’t wait for prom,” she said. “I already bought my dress. It’s white and slinky and cut down to here, and up to there,” she said, pointing to her upper thigh.
“Aw, man! I’m gonna need a million dollars just to graduate!” He slapped his forehead.
“I don’t need a limo or a fancy dinner for prom. Just you. Only you.”
“Girl, you the bomb!”
“Go check the mail, silly.”
Kofi shivered as he ran out to the edge of the porch, where the mailbox hung by one rusty nail. He lifted the lid and pulled out a handful of damp envelopes. He did not look at them. Instead he saw the sagging wooden porch beams, the blistered, peeling, faded blue paint, and the door that barely closed on rainy days like this one. It looked like crap.
“Anything good?” Dana asked as she took the pizza box to the kitchen.
He ripped open the first one. “Well, it looks like we have three days to pay the electric bill, or they cut off the power.”
“Can you pay it?” she asked.
“The folks at the electric company billing office downtown office know me by now. I’ll give them a little something when I get paid tomorrow and work out a payment plan—another one.”
“You sure got a handle on that one,” Dana told him.
He shrugged. “I figure it out as I go.” He opened another envelope. “Here’s an offer for a credit card for my dad. Are these people stupid?”
“We get those things at our house all the time too. Don’t they check credit records or stuff like that?” Dana asked him.
“I think they just get names out of the phone book.” Kofi ripped the letter into little pieces. “They should send me a medal and thank me for saving them the trouble of chasing down my father every month for their money!”
Then he paused at the next envelope. The return address simply had those familiar golden arches in the upper left-hand corner.
Dana looked over his shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you?” she said excitedly.
Kofi grinned, put down the rest of the mail, and ripped open the envelope. His heart beat fast as he hurriedly unfolded the letter. “Oh, Dana!”
“Read it! Read it!”
Kofi read the first paragraph. “‘Dear Mr. Freeman: The McDonald’s National Employee Scholarship Program is one of many examples of McDonald’s commitment to employee development and recognition. The program recognizes and rewards the accomplishments of McDonald’s student-employees who excel in their studies, serve their communities, and work hard to deliver an outstanding experience for our customers.’”
“We knew all that already,” said Dana. “Get to the good part!”
Kofi’s face fell as he read the next paragraph. “‘Although we admire your dedication to your studies and excellence as an employee, we regret to inform you that your application was not chosen as a winner this year.’” He tossed the letter and the rest of the mail on the coffee table.
“Well, that sucks,” Dana said, dropping back onto the sofa.
“I told you. It was a million-to-one chance.”
“You applied for other grants and stuff, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. But all of them have hundreds of kids like me with their hands out for help.”
“Don’t give up hope, Kofi. I believe in miracles,” Dana told him.
“You sound like my mother,” he replied glumly.
But Dana picked up the rest of the mail and proceeded to go through it. “What’s this one, Kofi?” she asked, sliding an envelope from the bottom of the ads for home-goods and hardware stores. She passed it to him.
Written on thick, cream-colored stationery, the letter was addressed to Mr. Kofi Freeman. He rubbed his fingers across his name.
“Who’s it from?” she asked.
“The Freedom Achievers Association in Washington, DC.”
She inhaled. “Is that the group that picks one student from each state?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Just fifty kids from the entire United States who will get a full ride to the college of their choice?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. He held the letter like it was breakable.
“When did you apply?”
“I guess I filled out the application last year. Actually, I forgot I even sent it in.”
“So open it!” she implored.
“I’m afraid to read it,” he admitted.
“I have a feeling this is good news,” she said softly.
“McDonald’s just blew me off,” he reminded her.
“What does McDonald’s know?” Dana urged him again, “Open it!”
“Nah, one disappointment a day is about all I can handle.”
“Kofi, open it! Or I will.”
“Chi
ll, woman.” He slid his finger under the flap and pulled out a sheet of the thickest stationery he’d ever seen. His hands shook.
“Kofi?” she whispered. “Read it to me.”
He cleared his throat. “‘Dear Mr. Freeman.’” He looked up at Dana. “See, it’s just like the other one. There’s no point—”
Dana bopped Kofi in the head with a sofa pillow. “Tell me what it says!”
Slowly, Kofi continued. “‘It is with great pleasure that we inform you that you have been selected as the Freedom Achiever Scholarship Award recipient for the state of Ohio.’”
He could barely breathe.
“Keep reading!” Dana insisted.
“I’m reading! I’m reading! ‘Only one student from each state is chosen for this prestigious honor. This award will provide full tuition, as well as room and board and books, to the college or university of your choice. If you maintain a 3.5 average in your college studies, the award will be renewed for up to four years.’”
Dana pounced on Kofi, causing both of to them fall off the couch. “Oh my God! Kofi, you did it! You did it! They’re going to pay for everything! It’s gonna happen!”
Kofi sat on the floor and finished reading the letter, which talked about the necessity of high grades for the rest of the senior year, an awards ceremony in Washington, DC, and tons of paperwork to be filled out in the next few weeks.
He gulped, then gasped. Then he hollered “Whoopee!” and leaped onto the battered sofa and started jumping up and down like a little kid. He grabbed Dana’s hand and pulled her up next to him, and the two of them jumped and bounced like jelly beans and hugged and kissed and jumped some more.
“I’m goin’ to MIT!” he said, dumbfounded.
“I’m so proud of you I could just scream!” she replied.
“So scream, baby! There’s nobody home but you and me.”
She shrieked. She screeched. She hugged him again. Gasping and out of breath, they flopped back down on the sofa.
“We oughta call Natasha Singletary, that reporter on Channel Five who wears too much lip gloss!” Dana suggested with enthusiasm.
“Why would she care? And who notices lip gloss?”
“Me and my girls in the fashion police,” she told him with a laugh. “But your scholarship is big news, Kofi! The only award given in the whole state? Everybody in town ought to know!”
“Naw, no reporters. It’s enough you’re proud of me,” Kofi told her.
“Well, okay—if you say so. But read it again!” she said. “I want to hear every beautiful word one more time.”
Relaxed and grinning this time, Kofi started to read the letter once more.
“Dear Mr. Freeman,” he began, trying to make his voice sound deep and dignified. “It is with great pleasure—”
“Kofi, what’s this?” Dana asked, interrupting him.
The mood of the room changed as quickly as a summer storm changes the day from sunshine to thunder clouds.
Dana held a small amber container with the childproof white cap.
“Uh, nothing.” He hadn’t even noticed that the bottle had flipped out of his pants pocket. He tried to grab it back from her, but she angrily held it away from him.
“You told me you quit.” Her voice was dangerous.
“I did!”
“These are half gone and…” She paused and looked at the date on the label. “This was just filled last week!” Her words were like sharp knives.
“I spilled some.”
“You LIE!”
“I don’t really need them,” he told her, looking down at the floor.
She turned to him, lifted his chin with her fingertips, and looked him directly in the eye. “You are about to screw up the rest of your life!” she growled.
“I know,” he said, his voice quiet.
“You just got a free ticket to the Superbowl and you’re peeing on it!”
“Dana, I don’t want to take them, but I can’t help it,” he protested. “It’s not my fault.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” She looked at him again—this time with a frown.
“It’s just that my parents are so hard to deal with.”
She poked him hard in the chest. “Don’t you dare blame this on your parents! Do they beat you with a stick and force those pills down your throat? I love you, Kofi. But if you don’t get control of this, you will end up living with your parents in that cardboard box! Is that what you want?” He had never seen her so angry.
“I’m not going to be able to get any more meds anyway,” he told her. “Dr. Stinson told me no more refills. He figured out I was using them as a crutch. He’s no dummy.”
“Neither am I,” Dana said. She took Kofi’s hand and pulled him to her. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. Instead she walked him over to the kitchen sink.
“We gonna wash dishes?” he asked with a small smile.
“Nope.”
“We gonna fix the leaky faucet?”
“Guess again.”
“We’re gonna put my pills down the garbage disposal?”
“Nope. You are.” She handed him the bottle, put her hands on her hips, and waited.
Kofi hesitated for only a moment. Then he opened the container, dumped the pills into the drain, turned on the cold water, and flipped the switch for the disposal.
Kreak-a-kreak-a whirr. The drain gargled and chewed, then spun clear and silent. Kofi flipped the switch to the off position.
“You got any more hidden in your jeans or your book bag?” asked Dana.
Kofi started to say no. He wanted to say no. But he couldn’t lie to Dana again. He went up to his room and found four more pills that he had hidden in a bedroom drawer. “I swear this is all of them. I swear,” he told her as they churned those up as well.
“I believe you,” she said. This time she let him kiss her with all the pain and passion he felt.
ARIELLE
CHAPTER 19
TUESDAY, MARCH 1
ARIELLE, DRESSED IN A DARK BLUE BLAZER, gazed out the window at the end of the hallway at the rapidly melting snow as she waited with the other students for Miss Pringle to show up. The store where Arielle worked after school was having a March Madness clothing sale, and she knew she’d end up mopping all the March footprints off the floor before she got to go home tonight. She sighed.
Where was that woman? Probably at the cafeteria getting another cup of coffee to fill her ever-present mug.
Kids sat on the floor or leaned on a wall, checking their watches and deciding, Arielle knew, whether to skip class or not. Room 317 was unlocked, but only a few kids had bothered to go in.
Eddie Mahoney, who had ended up in this class as well, sat waiting alone at the other end of the hall. Drumming two pencils on the floor, he challenged everyone with his eyes.
Arielle thought he always looked as if he was up to something. Nothing specific, but he threw off all kinds of bad vibes. If he’d been a painting, she would have drawn him in shades of deep purple and indigo.
She shivered. Even though March had arrived, it still got really cold at night, but Chad had turned off the heat in the house. “No need for heat. It’s almost spring,” he’d announced last night. Arielle slept in a sweatshirt over her pajamas, and she still hadn’t warmed up.
Lost in thought, she was surprised to notice Osrick standing next to her. He looked scared.
“Uh, can I ask you something, Arielle?” he began, his voice high and thin.
“Sure, Osrick. What’s up?” She still wasn’t sure whether she felt more sorry for him, or suspicious of him.
“Did you ever find your iPhone?”
Arielle tilted her head sideways. “No, I didn’t. Do you have any idea what happened to it?”
“I know you think I took it, but I didn’t,” he told her.
“I never said that,” she said.
“I know, but everyone else does. And I’ve seen how you watch me.”
&n
bsp; Arielle didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t deny it. “I, uh—”
Osrick interrupted her. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life. But even if I had, I’d never touch that model iPhone. It’s flawed. I’ve examined the specs.” He spoke with an authority that erased their mutual embarrassment.
She believed him, and she was glad about it. “Now you’re sounding more like the Wizard of Osrick we all know,” she said with real relief.
“Well, that’s one of the nicer things they call me,” he told her. His braces gleamed in the sunlight. “You buy like the usual consumer—because it’s pretty. Apple will improve the defects in future versions of the device.”
“I thought it was pretty cool for the short time I had it.”
“When they fix the glitches, maybe then I’ll buy one. I have money, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Arielle, still not sure where Osrick was headed. “So what does this have to do with my phone getting stolen?”
He looked around carefully to make sure no one else could hear him. “I think I know who took it, and the other stuff that’s been disappearing as well,” he whispered.
Arielle looked surprised. “Who?” she asked.
“People treat me like I’m invisible, so I notice things,” Osrick said with a shrug.
Miss Pringle hurried up the steps then, balancing coffee, grade book, and papers. Osrick abruptly stopped talking.
“Who unlocked this?” Miss Pringle demanded, seeing her classroom door standing ajar.
“The custodian,” Kofi told her.
She frowned and indicated that the students should enter the classroom. They filed in slowly.
As Arielle picked up her book bag, pondering what Osrick had said, November, Dana, and Olivia walked over to her.
“What was little Osrick sayin’? Tryin’ to get a date for the prom?” Dana teased her.
“No, leave him alone. He’s okay. None of us have ever tried to talk to him or get to know him.”
“Yeah, it must really suck to be Osrick,” November mused.
Arielle started to tell them what Osrick had hinted about the thefts, but just then Brandon Merriweather sauntered over to her. November and Dana stepped back and watched with raised eyebrows.
Just Another Hero Page 11