by E. L. Todd
“Or his social torture has spread throughout the whole school,” Breccan said.
“Great,” Calloway said sarcastically. “I don’t even care anymore. I don’t care about anything.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed. Calloway wished he was home-schooled.
Easton stared about him. “Yes, you do,” she said. “You care about the things that matter.” She tapped the book with her finger. Calloway stared forward and didn’t acknowledge her words. They meant nothing to him at the moment. Easton tried to change the subject. “How did it go last night with your parents?”
“It went really well,” Breccan said as he ate his sandwich. “Our parents weren’t mad—they didn’t punish us.”
Calloway shook his head. “It was horrible,” he said. “I heard my aunt say she has to get a job if they’re going to pay rent, so I’m applying for a job after school to help out. They shouldn’t have to pay for Hawk’s coldness.”
Breccan stopped eating. “When did this happen?”
“I overheard them when I went to the bathroom,” Calloway answered.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Easton said. “My offer still stands.”
“No,” Calloway said quickly. “But thank you.”
Easton flipped through the pages. “I didn’t decipher anything new last night—I was too tired, but I think we should start working in the Grandiose Historian Library. That’s where Calloway saw the first Hara-Kir—perhaps there are more.”
“So, now we’re looking for them?” Breccan asked.
“No,” she said. “But it’s a possibility they might be there, even though I find it unlikely. And the library is deserted so we’ll have plenty of privacy. Also, there may be more books hidden inside that we could use. We can’t always use my sister’s basement and we can’t stay at the school library. I think it’s our best option.”
The Grandiose Historian Library was convenient because it was deserted, and it was also the place the book was hidden, so Calloway agreed with Easton—it was the best location. Plus, they could practice their attacks on a wandering Hara-Kir. “I think it’s a good idea.”
“What do you think?” she asked Breccan.
Breccan was still chewing his sandwich. Even though Calloway was slightly larger than his cousin he didn’t eat nearly as much. Breccan always seemed to have an appetite even if he already ate. “I get a vote?” he asked with a mouth full of food.
She made a disgusted face. “Of course,” she said. “What do you think?”
He swallowed his food and shrugged. “I guess it’s as good as any other place.”
“No,” Calloway said. “It’s better.”
“So that will be our headquarters?” she asked.
“I guess,” Calloway said.
“Let’s refer to the Grandiose Historian Library as the Headquarters, just in case someone is eaves dropping on us.”
Breccan laughed. “No one cares about the activities of a bunch of high school kids.”
“Well, we aren’t going to be in high school forever,” she said. “We’re graduating soon.”
“And that day can’t come soon enough.” Calloway sighed.
Easton smiled at him. “It’ll be over soon,” she said. “Just hang in there. I know exactly how you feel.”
“I do, too,” Breccan said.
Calloway smiled at his two friends. “Thanks.”
The lunch bell rang and they rose from their seats. Breccan shoved the rest of his chips into his mouth and dropped crumbs across the table and floor when he couldn’t fit them all inside.
Easton glared at him. “Now you have to pick those up!”
Breccan shook his head. “That isn’t my problem.”
“The librarian isn’t going to let us come in here anymore,” she hissed. She bent down and started picking up the pieces and Calloway helped her. Breccan sighed then scraped the broken chips off the table. They threw the contents into the garbage then walked to class. Calloway went to his history class and didn’t pay attention to anything during the lesson. The teacher collected the homework that was due but he had nothing to turn in. He forgot about the assignment.
When Calloway walked to his photography class he felt his heart squeeze in dread. This was his least favorite class even though it was the last period of the day. When he walked inside he sat next to Breccan but didn’t say anything. He felt a tap on his shoulder but he didn’t turn around, knowing who the culprit was. He tried to ignore the excessive poking until it turned into a forceful punch. Calloway finally turned around and glared at Hawk, who was smiling at him with a mouth full of teeth. He had a McDonald’s gift card in his hand.
“I just want to make sure your family has dinner tonight,” Hawk said as he handed him the card.
Calloway turned away but Hawk grabbed him by the shoulder. “Why are you being so ungrateful—take it.” Calloway yanked his shoulder away from his grasp but Hawk grabbed him again. “I don’t want you to starve.” The students in the class laughed at Hawk’s comment and the sound echoed around the classroom. The teacher heard everything—it was impossible for her not to—but she did nothing to intervene. Hawk shoved the gift card into his face then started laughing. His gang of friends howled with laughter as they watched Calloway throw the card in the garbage can in the front of the class.
Now that the confrontation was over, Mrs. Ezquibel rose from her seat and addressed the students. “We will continue with the same project,” she said as she unlocked the drawers. “Grab your cameras and check them out.” She returned to her seat while the students moved to the front of the classroom. Calloway and Breccan both stayed in their seats, unsure what to do. Most of the students left the room with their cameras and started taking pictures outside.
Mrs. Ezquibel looked at Calloway. “Since your parents haven’t paid for the old camera, you are unable to participate in this assignment,” she said. “I suggest you find something to do for the period.”
Hawk laughed quietly. “That means they aren’t going to participate all year,” he said. “They’ll never be able to pay for that camera. The camera is worth more than their house.” His friends laughed at his comment.
Calloway sighed and controlled the anger in his body. He didn’t think he would be able to control himself until the end of the school year, the last day he would ever have to see Hawk. Breccan glanced over at him but didn’t say anything, silently acknowledging the stressful situation. Finally, Hawk and his gang left the classroom to complete their assignment and Calloway sighed in relief, knowing he didn’t have to deal with him until the end of the period.
When the class was over, Calloway was the first student out the door, and he headed over to his English class to serve his detention. He was angry that Mr. Avey made him stay after school when he had other things to do, such as learning how to defeat the Hara-Kirs and applying for a job, but he knew there would be greater repercussions if he didn’t show up for his detention.
Calloway didn’t look at Mr. Avey when he took his seat toward the back of the class.
“I don’t bite,” Mr. Avey said with a smile. Calloway rolled his eyes and moved a row closer to the front. Mr. Avey stared at him. “Can you hear me back there?” he asked. Calloway got up again and moved to the front row. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. Mr. Avey nodded. “Now that you don’t have any distractions, I expect this essay to be flawless, Calloway.”
Calloway opened his backpack and took out a notebook and a pen, but Mr. Avey placed a laptop on his desk. Calloway stared at it in confusion.
“You expect me to read your handwriting?” He smiled. “Now get to it.”
Calloway opened the computer and started composing his essay, detailing the themes of the Shakespeare play, Hamlet. It was his favorite play so he didn’t have any difficulties composing his thoughts on the piece. He didn’t even need a copy of the play to write it. After Calloway proofread it, he saved it to the desktop and closed the screen.
Mr. Avey grabbed the lap
top and returned it to his desk. He read it while Calloway sat in his seat and waited. After a few moments, Mr. Avey looked at him. “This deserves an A.”
Calloway raised an eyebrow. “You’re giving me full credit?”
“Yes,” he said. “And this essay deserves a perfect score. I’m very impressed by your analysis of the play as well as your writing abilities.” He closed the laptop and returned it to its protective case. “Where are you going to college?”
Calloway was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t applied anywhere.”
“Well, you are going to, right?”
“I hope so,” he said. Calloway was concerned how he was going to accomplish that. He wanted to register for the SAT’s but he didn’t have the money to pay for them. In addition, he was worried he wouldn’t have the funds to pay for the application fees.
“You are applying or you aren’t,” Mr. Avey said firmly. “Which is it?”
Calloway moved in his seat. “Yes, I am.”
“How did you do on the SAT’s?”
“I haven’t taken them.”
“When did you register?”
“I haven’t,” Calloway said honestly.
“Let’s do it now, then,” he said as he turned to his desktop computer. “Come here.”
Calloway rose from his seat and stood next to Mr. Avey, looking over his shoulder at the screen. Mr. Avey was typing on his computer, entering in all of Calloway’s information, including his full name and address. Calloway was surprised that his teacher knew so much about him. He selected the date that Calloway had originally chosen.
“That was simple,” Mr. Avey said as he completed the registration. He printed the confirmation letter and handed it to Calloway.
Calloway stared at the receipt. It said his teacher already paid for the exam. “You didn’t have to pay for it,” he said quietly.
“I know,” he said with a nod. “So, you need to start studying. The test is only a few weeks away.” He turned to his bookshelf and pulled out a textbook. “Here is a SAT prep guide. It should help.” Calloway didn’t know what to say. He was speechless. “I expect you to serve your detention every day after school—you can call it study hall.”
Calloway smiled at him. “Thank you, Mr. Avey.”
“You are very welcome.” He smiled. “You are very bright, Calloway. I’m sure you will do great—and not just on the exam.”
Calloway shoved the book into his backpack and left the classroom. For the first time that week he felt happy—elated—and he didn’t want to let that feeling go. Life didn’t seem so difficult to bear—he could do this.
It’s Meant to Be
Calloway rode his bike down the street until he reached the sandwich shop and he walked inside with his application in his hand. He realized he didn’t have any work experience and he wasn’t dressed professionally, but Calloway had to try anyway. He desperately needed a job.
“Hello,” he said to the employee standing behind the counter. The man’s ears were pierced with flashing diamonds, and it contrasted against his dark skin. The guy stared at Calloway and the look made him feel uneasy. The guy seemed fierce. “I wanted to apply for the open position.”
“Well, I’m not da hiring manager,” he said. “He’s in da back.” He nodded his head toward the end of the restaurant then continued working behind the counter. The employee didn’t seem so threatening when he spoke despite his intimidating demeanor.
Calloway walked to the office in the rear of the restaurant. A middle age white man was sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork. He looked up after he finished his last sentence. There was a calendar on the wall facing his desk and a pile of backpacks sat on the floor behind him, belongings of the workers. There were shelves of binders that detailed the payroll for the past decade.
“Can I help you?” He smiled. He tilted his head down and looked over his eyeglass frames at Calloway. The man was dressed in shorts even though it was winter and he wore a Forty Niners football sweater. His hands were covered in hair but his head was bald.
Calloway stepped closer to the man and extended his palm. “My name is Calloway,” he said as he shook his hand. “I’m interested in applying for the open position you posted.”
The owner looked at his clothes for a moment before he met his gaze. “My name is Joe,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. “Are you a student?”
“Yes,” Calloway said. “I’m in high school.”
Joe nodded. “Do you play any sports?” he asked.
The walls of the restaurant were covered in sport pictures from local teams at the high school and the university. Calloway assumed that playing sports would bode well for him but he couldn’t lie.
“No,” he said. “But I’m a fan.”
Joe reached for the resume in Calloway’s palm, and Calloway watched the owner read through it. Finally, Joe looked back at him. “How many hours a week can you work?”
“As many as you need me to.”
Joe laughed. “Good answer,” he said. “But high school students can only work so many hours—thirty is the maximum. Are you willing to work weekends?”
“Yes,” Calloway said quickly. “That isn’t a problem.”
Joe nodded then turned in his seat to a box behind him. He opened the lid and looked through the contents. “What size shirt do you wear?”
Calloway raised an eyebrow. “A large,” he answered. Calloway wondered if this meant he was hired.
Joe handed him four black shirts with the company logo. “I’ll see you on Saturday,” he said.
Calloway smiled. “You’re hiring me?” he said excitedly.
Joe laughed. “Yes. I look forward to working with you.”
Calloway shook his hand. “Thank you so much,” he said. “You won’t regret it.”
“I have a feeling,” Joe said. “I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Thank you,” Calloway said as he walked out of the office and back to the front of the store. He turned to the guy he spoke to earlier. “Thank you for directing me,” he said politely. The man nodded as Calloway left.
Calloway shoved the t-shirts into his backpack then jumped on his bike, riding back to the school where Easton and Breccan were waiting for him in the library. He pedaled his way back to the high school and arrived five minutes later. Calloway was relieved he found a job to help out his family. His Aunt Grace didn’t deserve to pay for his poor choices. Besides, he needed the money for college applications and to reimburse Mr. Avey for paying for his SAT.
When he got back to campus, Easton and Breccan were sitting in the library. The librarian immediately glared at Calloway as soon as he walked inside, but he ignored her and walked to the table where his friends were sitting. Breccan was finishing a math assignment and Easton was flipping through the Kirin Book with a confused expression on her face.
“Hey,” he said when he sat down. “Are you ready to go?”
Breccan looked over his shoulder and glanced at the librarian, who was flashing them all a look of pure hatred. The library was closing soon and she wanted them out. “Yes,” he said quickly. “Let’s get out of here before that witch curses us.”
“Don’t be mean,” Easton said as she shoved the book into her bag. She glanced at the librarian and her eyes widened. “Yes, we should get out of here. Her eyes are raging in a fire.”
Calloway laughed and helped Easton put her stuff away. Breccan shouldered his backpack and waited for Easton to get up. Her stuffed backpack was full of textbooks and notebooks, along with a few fantasy novels. Calloway was surprised she carried the weight around all day. He shouldered her backpack and turned away from the table.
“What are you doing?” Easton asked, her hands on her hips.
Calloway looked at her. “Leaving.”
“Why are you carrying my backpack?”
Calloway shrugged. “It’s weighs more than you do,” he said. “I was just trying to help.”
Breccan
rolled his eyes. “He’s not into you,” he said to Easton. “That’s just how Calloway is.”
They all walked to the front door, and the librarian immediately locked the door behind them like they were criminals on the street. Calloway still carried his backpack along with Easton’s and they walked to her car in silence.
“Thank you,” she said to Calloway. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
Calloway smiled at her. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know you aren’t used to people being nice to you or treating you with the respect you deserve.” He placed the backpacks in the trunk of the car.
Easton’s eyes softened at his words but she didn’t say anything. She unlocked the doors and they got in the car. Then she drove out of the parking lot toward the Grandiose Historian Library on the other side of town.
“Do you think anyone will be there?” Breccan asked from the front seat.
“A human or a Hara-Kir?” Calloway asked.
“Either,” he said.
“The place is completely deserted,” Calloway said. “The grass hasn’t been moved in years and the bushes haven’t been trimmed—it’s abandoned. The only inhabitants on that property are the statues.”
“Well, I hope we don’t run into a Hara-Kir,” Breccan said. “At least not on our first day.”
“It’s going to happen eventually,” Easton said as she parked next to the building. “You may as well accept it. If you’re scared, just remember you aren’t alone.”
“I’m not scared,” Breccan said quickly.
“Well, I am,” Calloway admitted.
“Me too,” Easton said.
Breccan shifted his weight in his seat as he stared at the abandoned building. He stared at the ivy growing over the windows and the dirty glass that was never cleaned. The library looked like a haunted mansion. “I’m totally not scared,” he said as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
Easton rolled her eyes as she got out. “We’ll be fine,” she said. They grabbed their belongings from the car, and Easton let Calloway carry her bag without an argument. When they reached the front entryway, they all stopped and looked around, waiting for a Hara-Kir to jump out at them.