The Gay Teen's Guide to Defeating a Siren: Book 1: The Seeker

by Cody Wagner

  He didn’t let the disappointment in himself show as he said, “So you just waltzed in here and took the keys.”

  I nodded.

  “Did you know they’d be here?”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you come here?”

  I played with my fingers. “I was hoping you’d help me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my favorite teacher.” It was true. I hadn’t talked to many of the teachers, but he seemed very fair. Strict, almost soldier-like, but fair. And he made me feel better that night Luke and Darrin asked me to workout with them.

  He stared at me for a long time, and stood. “I’m inspecting the truck and you’re paying for any damages.”

  “Yessir.”

  “And you have detention with me for the rest of the semester.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Now get out. I don’t want to see your face again tonight.”

  I froze. Is that it?

  “What about the police?” I asked.

  “Go!” he said.

  As I walked back to the dorm, my entire body heaved in relief. I wasn’t going to jail! And if I had detention for the rest of the semester, I wasn’t expelled, either. I grinned and began skipping. Sure, I still felt awful for what happened. I mean, I had broken the law and betrayed my favorite teacher. I felt like a terrible person, but my life wasn’t over.

  When I arrived at the dorm, a makeshift party had erupted in the lobby. Snacks littered the tables and someone had hung a makeshift banner of people cleaning up what looked like spirals covered in pee. The second they saw me, everyone rushed over, wanting to know exactly what happened. Jimmy was there, but sat stoically in a chair. When I caught his eye, he mouthed, “I’m sorry,” and hung his head.

  Needing some way to redeem myself after what I’d done to Adkins, I made my way to the coffee table, climbed on it, and said, “We found out they were doing a preemptive raid, so Jimmy and I took action.”

  Jimmy gaped at me.

  “Yeah,” I continued, “Jimmy told me about the truck so I drove it into the pumpkin. It was all his idea.”

  By the end of the night, Jimmy was a hero. He started telling people he summoned his father’s helicopters, but they arrived too late. I whispered, “Dial it back a bit.” He faked confusion for a second, but the helicopters disappeared. Satisfied (and patting myself on the back), I sat down and let Jimmy revel in his glory.

  Nine

  Trailing Jimmy

  Despite the guilt over taking Adkins’s truck, it was amazing watching the older dorm clean the pumpkin. Every resident hit the field the next day after classes, sporting rubber gloves and plastic aprons, nothing more. The mess congealed overnight and looked like the most disgusting jello mold ever created (although jello molds are always nasty).

  Luke and Darrin pretended to help but didn’t do much. Still, seeing them walk around the mound of mush, gagging, was satisfying enough. Roze cleaned with a vengeance, like she wouldn’t be outdone by her classmates. Every time she looked at me, which wasn’t often, I pointed to the heap of garbage and said, “Get back to work.” I swore she steamed under her apron.

  Timothy worked with a quiet dignity. A few people gave him mean looks (apparently, word had gotten out he’d told me about their plan), but he remained his normal, confident self. At one point he grinned at me and gave me a thumbs up. He was impressed with my antics last night. I mouthed, Luck, and he laughed.

  I wasn’t mad at him, anymore. He did exactly what I would have done. If anything, he was more intriguing than ever, and I made up my mind to visit the farm at some point and see what that was about.

  Admittedly, I wanted to stay and watch Timothy and Roze clean for hours. Too bad I had my own mess to deal with, and made my way to the east side of the gym, where the truck was parked.

  The instant I saw the vehicle gloating at me, my shoulders slumped. True to my dumb self, I hadn’t thought to move it before the girls smashed the pumpkin, and a tidal wave of gunk had oozed into the grill. Adkins insisted I clean it today, before it dried too much. A huge bucket filled with soapy water and a sponge sat next to the truck. A note was taped to it that read, Get to work.

  Grabbing the sponge, I walked to the front of the truck to see what I was in for. Flies buzzed around meat and cheese clogging the entire front grill. I swore a whole “Bettering Bratwurst” stuck out at me like a tongue. I winced and looked around for a water hose to spray off the loose chunks. There wasn’t one; it was just me and the bucket. I realized I was going to have to clean everything by hand. I leaned my head back and swallowed down bile, knowing Adkins had done this on purpose. I guess I deserved it.

  Dragging the bucket to the front of the truck, I began scrubbing. After fifteen minutes, I decided I’d rather clean the field with my bare hands. At least they were just scooping up gunk. I had to get in and clean between every tiny crack in the grill. Flicking out a maggot (probably from the burger I’d collected), I had to sit back and compose myself. It was vile.

  The weather didn’t help, either. The sun beat down on me, but the air was chilly and windy. After another fifteen minutes, the water was cold and my fingertips numbed every time a breeze blew past. I rubbed my hands together for a second, and focused on finishing.

  I heard something behind me and groaned. As if the cold wasn’t bad enough, someone had come to gloat. Turning, I half expected to see Luke or Darrin or Roze laughing over me. I admit I had a comeback all ready. Instead, Jimmy stood there, holding a small rag. Without a word, he dipped it into the water (with chunks of food floating in it), and began scrubbing a headlight.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Helping.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at me, ashamed. “If I didn’t leave last night, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “No, this was the only way. They knew we were going to raid. It had nothing to do with you.”

  He nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “I heard people are pretty mad at the traitor.”

  “Any idea who it was?”

  “No. I kind of hope no one finds out.”

  I frowned. “Why? I’d love to have a few minutes alone with him. Or her.” I didn’t think I’d actually do anything, but it felt tough saying the words.

  Jimmy focused too hard on cleaning. “I just wouldn’t want to put someone through all the teasing and stuff. I used to be really mean to people and now I regret it.” His voice was a little screechy at the end, but I wouldn’t admit I was picked on, either. Still, I refused to forgive the traitor. If he took the risk of selling us out, he’d better be prepared for the consequences. I didn’t say any of this to Jimmy, though. Leaning forward, I attacked the other headlight, wiping off what looked like filmy pudding.

  Jimmy worked furiously and, watching him clean, my opinion of him climbed a bit, even when he said, “My family owns a string of car washes.” I told myself he was just as desperate for friends as me, yet here he was humiliating himself. I told myself to be nicer to him from now on, and began joking about the previous night’s craziness.

  Just as we were finishing up—and discussing how mad Luke must have been (we found out he was the one who’d reached in the back window of the truck)—I remembered something. Throwing my sponge into the water, I said, “Where did you go last night when Ms. Dodd grabbed you?”

  Jimmy froze, caught off-guard, and muttered, “Just some administrative stuff.”

  “At two in the morning?” There was no way that was true, and I pictured him watching TV screens with Wolcott.

  “Yeah,” he squeaked. “If I didn’t help, someone wouldn’t be able to attend here.”

  I squinted at him. That sounded weird and I didn’t buy it, not for a second. Part of me wanted to press him, but I stopped myself. His eyes darted around frantically; Jimmy didn’t want to talk about it. Normally, I might have kept going. But, seeing as he was helping me clean the “maggot mobile,” I decided to let it go. />
  At least while he was around.

  That night, after dinner, I asked Cassie to go for a walk. She could tell something was up and immediately agreed. The night air was cool and I shoved my hands in my pocket.

  “What’s going on?”

  I told her about Jimmy disappearing. I even told her a little about my meeting with Wolcott. It was easier than I thought; I was dying to talk about it.

  Honestly, I figured Cassie would just blow it all off with some observant remark, and I guess I was hoping for a reason to give up. But she seemed just as interested as I was, maybe even more so.

  Leaning forward, practically ramming into me, she said, “So Wolcott asked him to verify something at the funeral?”

  I nodded.

  “What?”

  I paused, unsure of what to say. Finally, I decided I’d held it in enough and spilled the beans. “My friend Kyle joined Zimmerman’s Zealots.”

  Cassie stood back. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I pressed on before should could ask more about that. “Anyway, Wolcott had a video of it and asked Jimmy about Kyle.”

  “What did he ask?”

  “Is he?”

  “Is he what?”

  “No. That’s what Wolcott asked Jimmy. Is he?”

  Cassie frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “No idea.”

  She stopped talking to ponder that a minute. I took advantage and pulled my hands into my shirt. The air was getting cold.

  “So Ms. Dodd just came and grabbed him in the middle of the night?”

  I shifted gears to the Pumpkin Bash and said, “Yeah, it was really weird.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he had to do some administrative stuff so someone could enroll.”

  “Fallacy.”

  “Huh?”

  “The statement is full of holes.”

  I looked at her funny, and she clarified, “Why Jimmy? He doesn’t work at the admissions office, right?”

  I didn’t think about that, but she was right. If he wasn’t employed there, why did they need him? Nodding, I said, “He did seem to be making it up on the fly.”

  “His voice was higher than normal?”

  I pointed at her. “Exactly.”

  Cassie looked down at her tray, thinking. A second later, she popped back up, a mischievous look in her eye. “You think it’s connected to your meeting?”

  I shrugged. “No idea.”

  She stopped and smiled. “You want to find out what he’s up to?”

  “How?”

  “We tail him.”

  I laughed. “Really?”

  “I don’t like mysteries.”

  “I know. You’re so weird.” I realized I’d become comfortable enough around her to call her names.

  Without taking offense, she retorted, “You’re weird not to.”

  I grinned. “OK, why not. But you know it’s going to be nothing.” I shook my head. “Like Jimmy would be in charge of some huge secret.”

  Cassie shrugged. “I won’t support or argue the statement. The proof is in the pudding.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s an old saying my grandma used to throw around. She never let me make a decision without thinking everything through.”

  “So she’s why you’re weird. That’s cool I guess.”

  She raised an eyebrow, as if saying, Really? You think that’s cool? Frowning, she said, “Once, at the store, I wanted to spend my allowance on a toy horse. She made me argue with her, out loud, the pros and cons of buying the horse. Right there, in the toy aisle.” Her voice was monotone, like she was relaying a painful memory.

  Not knowing how to respond, I just said, “Really?”

  “Yes. We were there for a half hour, while I pleaded my case: horses are my favorite animal, I’ll play with it every day, I have the money. Then I had to argue the other side: I could be saving for a real horse, I already had plenty of toys.” She shook her head. “I think she wanted me to talk myself out of it and spend the money on something more practical.”

  “So what happened?”

  She smirked. “I bought the horse.”

  “Oh.”

  I wondered what all that meant, but Cassie didn’t give me a chance to respond. Abandoning the memory, she quickly changed the subject to “Operation: Trailing Jimmy,” and we huddled together during the rest of dinner.

  * * * * *

  For the next two weeks, we followed Jimmy around as best we could. I tried listening for his alarm in the morning, in case he got up early. He never did, so I made him get ready and walk to algebra with me. After morning classes, Cassie and I dragged him to lunch, forcing him to sit between us.

  As soon as classes were over, one of us would find him and lead him back to the room, making all kinds of excuses. Sometimes, Cassie had him help with arranging her furniture (which was just a chair and her dresser). Other times, I pretended to need extra assistance with algebra (that one wasn’t such a stretch). During that time, Jimmy never disappeared on one of his secret errands. But, I must say, he really loved the attention.

  After the first week, I brought Roze into it, and we made a game called “Fighting for Jimmy”. At one point, I grabbed one of his arms and Roze the other. We had a pretend fight over him, shouting, “It’s my turn! No, it’s my turn.” Cassie didn’t seem too thrilled at our antics, and even questioned why I included Roze (“We don’t want the whole world to know what we’re doing”), but I missed Roze. We hadn’t talked as much since Halloween. Besides, I knew she’d make it more fun since Cassie took everything so seriously.

  Cassie did let up some, though, when we all began to notice something: the more time we spent with Jimmy, the less he seemed to lie. He also didn’t ramble on as much and became more bearable. It’s like he was so starved for friends, it turned him into a weirdo. Seeing the change made me feel good. And it was good for him too—if he remained his annoying self, we would have killed him.

  One morning, in mid-November, I heard a strange buzzing at 4:00AM. At first, I incorporated it into my dream—bees surrounded me as I took a test. Then I jerked awake, realizing the noise was hovering in the room. Still groggy, I tried focusing on what it was when the sound stopped. It was replaced by rustling as Jimmy got up and tiptoed behind the screen.

  The tiny buzzing was his alarm! No wonder I hadn’t heard it before.

  Wide awake, I carefully turned onto my side and looked at Cassie. Still asleep. I peeked around, trying to think of how to get her attention. I contemplated throwing something . . . like that wouldn’t have been obvious. If I had a phone, I would have texted her.

  Mind racing for ideas, I glanced at Jimmy. He was throwing on jeans and a coat. Zipping it up, he turned and looked back at me. I slammed my eyes shut, hoping he hadn’t seen me watching. I guess not because, a few seconds later, I heard the door open then quietly close.

  Scanning the room to make sure he’d gone, I leapt down from the bed, threw on some clothes, and went to Cassie’s bed. I really wanted to wake her, but I’d already wasted so much time; I should have slept with my clothes on. Staring at her for a second, I decided to go alone. By the time she was up and ready, there’d be no telling where Jimmy went. It was too risky.

  Throwing open the door, I looked both ways and saw the exit door to my right closing. It had to be him. I inched the door shut and stepped out, glad I hadn’t woken Cassie. We would have lost him for sure.

  I pushed through the outside door and bolted to the first step. The door closed behind me with a bang. I flinched and cursed myself. Very smooth, I thought. I had never really tailed anyone before and told myself to pay better attention. Crouching down and trying to be very spy-like, I scanned the grounds.

  It was still dark out, but the moon cast a vague glow on everything. Squatting behind the railing (which, embarrassingly, offered no cover), I saw a figure to my left walking toward the auditorium. Assuming it was Jimmy, I held my br
eath and took off for a tree across the road. My feet made a huge racket, crunching on leaves and sticks, but I kept going, skidding to a halt behind the tree. The whole time, my heart raced and I found myself grinning. Regardless of what stupid task he was doing, this was fun.

  I peered around the tree and saw Jimmy making his way up the rows of seats in the auditorium. Taking a deep breath, I took off running again, this time toward the rear row of chairs. I’m not sure if he heard something, but Jimmy turned around. Frantic, I slid on my butt across the ground and slammed into the back of a chair. It shook with a thud. So did I; the impact knocked the wind out of me. Heaving, I peeked around the chair at him. He stared back in my direction for a long time, shrugged, then kept walking. I sighed, glad it was still dark, and caught my breath for a few seconds.

  Grabbing the edge of the seat, I peered around, expecting him to be far away (I had even planted my shoe into the ground to push off, like an Olympic sprinter). But he wasn’t. Instead, he stood on the stage. I squinted at him, trying to figure out what was going on. Did this have something to do with his disappearances? Then I watched as he cleared his throat, stuck out his arms, and began speaking. After a few moments, I realized it wasn’t a speech. No, he was performing something, like a monologue.

  My jaw dropped as he walked around the stage, fluid and sure of himself. His voice carried all the way back to me, but didn’t sound forced. He was incredible, his gestures subdued and normal. For two minutes, he was a completely different person, and I found myself sucked in. By the time he finished, I was shaking my head, stunned. Where did that come from?

  I didn’t have time to think about it because the old Jimmy immediately returned. He made a farting noise with his lips, climbed off the stage, and hustled across the street toward the admissions building.

  When he was about thirty yards away, I got up and sprinted toward the stage, ducking behind it in case he decided to turn around for another performance. Slowly, I peeked over the top and saw Jimmy walking into the admissions building. Was he really helping them with student enrollments? Nervously pumping my hands, I hauled across the street and slid against the building. All the lights were off, so I crept around and began peeking into windows.