by E. L. Todd
They finished reading the scene until the bell rang, ending the period, and the students walked out of the room. Mr. Avey addressed Calloway when he walked by his desk.
“I expect to see you after school,” he said.
“Am I still serving detention?” Calloway smiled.
“Call it what you want,” his teacher said. “It’s the only way I can get you to study.”
Calloway laughed. “I’ll see you then, Mr. Avey.”
“I look forward to it.”
Calloway walked to his math class and sat in the back row. For the first time, he wrote down the homework on the board and completed it in class. He didn’t need the teacher to demonstrate the problems—he just read the book. By the time the period was over he already finished his assignment for the next day.
The bell rang and announced the beginning of lunch. Calloway walked to the library, and when he spotted the librarian inside he stopped—she was smiling at him. Calloway automatically looked behind him, assuming she was acknowledging someone else, but he was alone—there was no one else.
“Hello,” Calloway said awkwardly.
“Hello, dear,” she said with a smile. “Your friends are sitting at their usual table.”
Calloway stared at her for a moment, too shocked to move, and finally moved his feet after he found his bearings. When he reached the table he stared at Easton. “What did you do?” he asked.
Easton smiled. “I just cheered her up,” she said.
“And how did you do that?” Calloway asked.
Breccan laughed. “Well, food is the way to a man’s heart so what’s the way to a woman’s heart?” Breccan asked. He nodded to the counter behind Calloway. “Easton got her flowers.”
Calloway looked over his shoulder and saw the vase of fresh flowers on the table. They were pink and yellow, and the colors reminded him of the spring season. The librarian smelled a rose with a smile on her face.
“And her name is Nancy,” Easton said.
Calloway smiled. “That’s all it took?” he asked. “Just some flowers?”
“Well, I talked to her, too,” she said. “Nancy is incredibly lonely and she hears the students say mean things about her. We’re the first kids to be nice to her—she isn’t much different than us—just misunderstood.”
Calloway turned back to Easton. “Good work,” he said with a nod. He turned to his cousin. “It looks like you can eat whenever you want.”
Breccan opened his sandwich and took a bite. “We are about to find out.”
The librarian looked at their table but her smile never faltered. She looked so different than her usual self. The light in her eyes filled the dark room, illuminating it with its own brightness, and her red lips were stretched wide as they displayed her undeniable merriment. Nancy didn’t comment on Breccan’s lunch—she didn’t even see it.
“My sandwich has never tasted so good,” Breccan said as he chewed.
Easton laughed. “All you care about is food.”
“You just noticed that?” Calloway asked.
Easton opened the Kirin Book and flipped to the page she was slowly decoding. Only half of the page seemed to be translated, and Calloway wondered how long it would take her to finish. He wished there was a quicker way to gather the information.
Breccan noticed Easton’s slow pace. “This is going to take forever.” He sighed.
Easton leaned back in her chair. “Why don’t we ask Weston for help? I already told you she is practically fluent in the Kirin symbols and she could translate this for us instantaneously. Let me ask her.”
“No,” Calloway said quickly. “This stays among the three of us.”
“Why?” Easton asked. “She’s my sister—we can trust her.”
Calloway shook his head. “I’m sorry but I can’t.”
“Why does she know how to read Kirin anyway?” Breccan asked. “What does she do with the information?”
Easton was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.”
“She could be aiding them as far as we know,” Calloway said. “We don’t know what her invested interest is in the Hara-Kirs.”
“She’s probably fighting them like we are,” Easton argued.
“Yes, she probably is, but we don’t know for sure,” Calloway said. “I can’t let this fall into the wrong hands. I’m sorry, Easton. I trust you not to tell her.”
Easton sighed. “Okay,” she said. “But I thought you liked my sister.”
“We do,” Breccan said quickly. “She’s a cool chick.”
“We just don’t know her well enough,” Calloway said.
Easton looked at Calloway. “I’ve known my sister my whole life and I can vouch for her. Sure, we didn’t always get along and there were times when I wanted to kill her but I know her, Calloway. We can trust her.”
Calloway sighed. “It’s too risky,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“So we are going to fight the Hara-Kirs on our own?” Easton asked. “How long can we last doing that? We need allies.”
“We’ll figure it out as we go along,” Calloway said.
Easton leaned back in her seat and sighed, clearly annoyed with Calloway for his paranoia and need for secrecy.
Calloway stared at her. “Do I have your word, Easton?”
Easton was quiet for a moment. “If I was going to tell her, I would have done it already.”
Calloway nodded. “Thank you.”
Breccan finished his sandwich and opened a bag of chips. “What are we going to do about the body?” he asked. “It’s going to decompose and stink up the place.”
“I’m not touching it,” Easton said quickly.
Calloway shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “We could hide it in a closest.”
Easton shook her head. “That’s a bad idea,” she said. “We’re going to kill more of these. We need to dispose it somewhere where no one will find it.”
“We could drop it in a lake,” Breccan said.
“No,” Calloway said quickly. “The body will be discovered eventually.”
Easton ran her fingers through her hair and stared across the room. Breccan continued to eat his chips like the conversation was ordinary and uneventful. Calloway thought of a few ideas but none of them were feasible.
“We can bury it,” Breccan said.
“No,” Easton said. “It will be found eventually.”
“I have an idea,” Calloway said. “There’s a fireplace at the Headquarters.”
Breccan stared at Calloway. “What’s your point?”
“We could burn them,” Calloway answered. “There will be no evidence of their bodies. Besides, the fireplace is large enough to fit a body—it works.”
Easton made a disgusted face. “Isn’t that going to stink?” she asked. “Burning flesh is a nauseating smell.”
“It will be temporary,” Calloway said. “Unless someone has a better idea.”
Easton and Breccan looked at each other for a moment then turned back to Calloway. “No,” Easton said. “That’s the most convenient and permanent solution to our problem. It would take time to bury the bodies, and we would have to drive to the lake every time we had a corpse. Plus, we would risk being caught by the authorities—that would be bad.”
“So we’re agreed?” Calloway asked.
“Yes,” Breccan answered. “So, who’s going to do it?” They both looked at Calloway and silently appointed him as the corpse burner.
Calloway sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But we’ll take turns after this. Or we’ll do it together.”
“I’m not touching it,” Easton repeated.
Calloway looked at her. “That’s fine.”
Easton looked back at the Kirin Book and started to translate the next word while Calloway opened his sack lunch and scarfed down the meal his aunt packed for him. The bell was going to ring any moment and he wanted to eat his lunch before he returned to class. Calloway finished just as the bell rang and he threw his garbage away before he we
nt to class.
When Calloway sat in the back of his history class he immediately started to think about the corpse sitting in the Grandiose Historian Library. He wondered what was behind the hood of the cloak. The thought made his heart palpitate. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Calloway didn’t want to burn the body because that would require him to touch it, but his friends refused to come near it—he understood their unease.
Calloway and Breccan walked to their photography class with stiff shoulders, preparing to be teased mercilessly for the entire period. Calloway considered asking Mrs. Ezquibel to move his seat to the other side of the classroom but he didn’t want to give Hawk that satisfaction—that he was getting under his skin.
“Are you ready?” Breccan asked as they reached the classroom.
Calloway sighed. “I’m never ready for this.”
They advanced into the classroom and took their seats. Calloway waited for the insults and vicious comments to begin but they never came. When he finally let himself relax, a pencil was thrown at the back of his head. The wood of the utensil collided with his skull and he clenched his teeth in frustration.
“So, have you found a date, Poverty Boy#2?” he asked with a laugh. “I would suggest asking Beatrice but she’s already taken—by me.”
Calloway glanced at Beatrice across the room. She was talking to the girl sitting beside her in a quiet voice. He felt the anger ignite in his body as he listened to Hawk brag about his plans for the dance.
“My father is renting us a limo,” Hawk said. “I can actually afford to take a girl out—and not to McDonald’s.”
Hawk was a vicious jerk but Beatrice still agreed to go out with him. Calloway didn’t understand her decision and the choice astounded him. He defended her and now he was harassed every single day at school because of it. It was all a waste. Calloway felt his mind snap at the revelation. He wasn’t sure why he had feelings for her to begin with—she wasn’t worth it.
Calloway dashed from the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and he walked to Mr. Avey’s classroom. As soon as he walked in the door he felt better, knowing this was the only time he felt safe; that he wouldn’t have to worry about the Hara-Kirs, Hawk harassing him, or the fact that his aunt and uncle were struggling to get by—it was a safe haven.
He sat in his desk and opened the SAT preparation guide that Mr. Avey had given him. Most of the information was basic and an overview. Calloway already knew everything. But he opened his notebook and went through the practice exam, completing the problems with ease. He closed the book and leaned back in his chair when he was finished.
“Let’s see how you did,” Mr. Avey said as he grabbed the book from the desk. He flipped through the pages and checked Calloway’s answers. Mr. Avey nodded as he graded the exam while Calloway remained in his seat, waiting for his teacher to finish.
Mr. Avey closed the book. “You missed one,” he said as he looked at Calloway. “And I think it’s because you accidently bubbled in the wrong answer.” He sighed as he returned the book to the desk. “You aren’t smart, Calloway—you are gifted. You will do well on this exam—exceptional—and secure your admission into your preferred university. Where did you want to go?”
Calloway shrugged. “Fresno University.”
Mr. Avey stared at him for a moment. He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “With scores like these you can go anywhere, Calloway. Don’t settle for less than the best.”
Calloway nodded. Even if he was accepted into a prestigious college he could never attend. He didn’t have the funds for his tuition and couldn’t leave his friends behind, and not because he would miss them, but because he had other important responsibilities. Calloway stared at the whiteboard in front of the classroom and noticed the pictures and drawings on the board. “We’ll see.”
Mr. Avey didn’t press him further. He opened his laptop and placed it on Calloway’s desk. “Let’s work on your personal statement,” he said. “You’re going to submit it with your application.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Calloway said as he looked at the screen. He felt uncomfortable using such an expensive piece of equipment. He remembered the last time he was responsible for something valuable—it cost his family two thousand dollars. “I can’t think of any reason why they should choose me.”
“I can think of many,” Mr. Avey said.
Calloway looked at Mr. Avey then dropped his gaze.
“Let it come naturally,” Mr. Avey said. “Just tell them about yourself—your life and your experiences—and how that will take you to the next step—higher education.”
Calloway nodded. “I guess I can do that,” he said apprehensively. “Will you look at it when I’m finished?”
Mr. Avey clapped him on the shoulder. “Of course, Calloway.” He returned to his desk and graded student papers while Calloway gathered his thoughts.
Calloway stared at the screen for a long time before he composed his first sentence. After his initial words were written, the rest of his essay came naturally and he typed his thoughts until the entire page was filled. Calloway didn’t know if his personal statement was noteworthy but he gave it his best effort. “I think I’m finished.”
Mr. Avey nodded. “Take a break and read it again next time,” he said. “It will give you a fresh perspective on your work.” Calloway nodded as he saved the draft to the computer. He closed the screen and sat back in his chair. “But I’m certain it’s great, Calloway—I expect nothing less from you.”
Calloway felt his cheeks redden from his teacher’s praise. No one had ever told him he was smart. In fact, he always heard the opposite from his instructors—that he was lazy and irresponsible. Mr. Avey was the first one to notice the root of the problem—he was distracted. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Thanks,” he said.
Mr. Avey nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Calloway left the classroom and walked to the library where his friends were waiting for him. Calloway stared at the carpet as he moved through the building, thinking about his study hall sessions with his favorite teacher. He felt uplifted and happy. Mr. Avey believed in Calloway in a way that no one ever had. He had never been told that he was gifted—no one ever noticed—and that support was enough to make all the difference in the world.
Three Against One
Breccan was completing school applications on the computer when Calloway walked into the library and approached him. Breccan closed the screen when he realized his cousin was standing behind him but he was too late. Calloway already saw the Fresno University application—it was the same college Weston attended.
Breccan rose from his seat and looked at Calloway. “How long do you have to serve detention?” he asked. “You have it every day.”
Calloway knew his cousin didn’t want to discuss his activity on the computer by the sudden changed in subject. Calloway shrugged. “I think for the rest of the year.”
“How is that possible?” Breccan asked. “I didn’t do my essay and I wasn’t given a detention.”
“It’s study hall, really,” Calloway explained. “Mr. Avey is helping me prepare for the SAT’s and my personal statement for college admissions.”
Breccan was quiet for a moment. He adjusted his backpack even though it was already on correctly and he didn’t look at his cousin. “Cool.” He walked away from Calloway and reached the table Easton was sitting at.
Calloway followed behind him and sat across from Easton. “Are you ready to go?” Calloway asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But I don’t want to—I have no desire to touch that thing.”
“So you aren’t afraid to kill a living Hara-Kir but it’s just ludicrous to touch a dead one?” Breccan asked incredulously.
Easton shook her head. “It just bothers me, okay?”
Breccan rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “I’ll help Calloway.”
The library door opened and Hawk and his friend Tommy walked into the r
oom. Hawk returned a book to the counter then glanced at Calloway and his friends across the library. He nodded to Tommy then walked toward their table.
Calloway turned to Easton. “Put that book away,” he whispered. He stood in front of the table and blocked her view from Hawk’s sight. Easton shoved the Kirin Book into her backpack and hid it from Hawk and his friend, knowing they would steal it or demolish it.
“Are you guys searching for lost change in the library?” Hawk spat. “Maybe if you combine all your money one of you can attend formal.”
“At least we can come up with new material,” Easton said. “Your limited intelligence only allows you to say the same joke repeatedly. Big deal—Calloway’s poor—but he has possessions that money can’t buy—true friends is one of them.”
Calloway nodded at Easton, thanking her for standing up for him. Other than Breccan, she was the first one to defend him against this bully.
“Shut up, freak,” Hawk said. “Now you have friends just as weird as you—nothing to brag about.” Hawk stepped toward Easton and leaned over the table toward her, intimidating her with his close proximity while he glared at her. Easton leaned away from him, clearly frightened of his next movement. Hawk moved closer to Easton. “Why don’t you just drop out so we don’t have to stare at your ugly face anymore?”
The action made Calloway angry. He refused to let him harass Easton like he did to Beatrice. Calloway grabbed his neck and pushed him back savagely. “Leave her alone, Hawk,” he yelled. His muscles flexed with the adrenaline coursing through his body. Hawk had angered him repeatedly for the past week, and Calloway was always able control his rage, but threatening Easton sent him over the edge. “If I ever see you speak to her again—”
“You’ll what?” Hawk said as he shoved him. “What are you going to do?” He pushed him again. His friend Tommy started to laugh as he watched his friend shove Calloway across the library. Calloway wondered where the librarian was—if only he had her as a witness.
“Stop this now!” Easton said. “Calloway—stop! He isn’t worth it.”
Hawk pushed him again and Calloway stumbled backwards. Calloway felt his control snap as he fell to the ground. He was tired of letting Hawk tease him mercilessly every day. Calloway didn’t care if he got in trouble—he wanted to make Hawk suffer. He rose to his feet and charged Hawk, shoving him to the ground. He raised his fist to punch him when a loud yell steadied his hand.