Thirty Nine
The following day, I stayed home from school. Mum stayed the last night I was in hospital and took us back to our house the next morning. But although I was excused from study, that didn’t mean I was off the hook for everything. I took the time of recovery to do a few things that needed to be completed. Like the grocery shopping.
Although Mum had gone into a stress overdrive and was now practically in a state of hibernation, I was still a growing guy who needed to be fed. My cuts and bruises still gave off a constant stinging, but with the medication the doctors had prescribed to me, the irritating sensation eventually settled to a throbbing.
Grocery shopping was a task I had inherited since I was fourteen when Mum discovered I was faster at navigating my way through the supermarket and getting things done. So, when I arrived, I grabbed a trolley and headed towards the breads section. Tossing a loaf into the pile, I started passing the other pastries and decided to get some cheese and bacon rolls. And as I headed towards where they were stacked, I ran into Eve.
“Ryder,” she said, grinning as she shifted her baby from one side of her hip, to the other. Hamish was dressed in one of his food-related outfits again.
“Look,” she said, grinning as she held up her son to my face, “he’s a peanut!”
I was starting to wonder where she was getting all these clothes from, but decided that it was best that I didn’t know. Instead, I looked at Hamish, who was pulling a face that suggested he wanted to throw up on me and watched as he returned to his mother’s side.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, adjusting Hamish’s bonnet.
“I could use some sleep,” I admitted, “but I’ve got stuff to do.”
“Oh, honey.” She shook her head in disapprovement. “You should go back home. Where’s your list? I’ll pick up your things and drive them back to yours.”
“No, thank you,” I politely declined. “I don’t want to be any trouble. Besides, I won’t be long. There isn’t much I need to get.”
Her face remained unconvinced, but when Hamish started crying, she seemed to reluctantly accept. “Take it easy, okay?”
I nodded in agreement and she seemed pleased. Just as I was about to walk away and return to my bacon rolls, Patrick appeared with a trolley. He gave me a smile as he neared, scooped up his son from his girlfriend and gently lowered him into his man pouch, where the baby sat comfortably supported.
Although I desperately needed to go back to bed, I knew that Patrick must have some sort of information about the fire, whether he was the culprit or not, I needed them. I never had the chance to ask while we were at the hospital because Nora walked in. So, while Eve went towards the fruit and vegetables, I lingered around Patrick.
“Hey,” he greeted, giving me a gentle pat on the back, trying not to disturb his son. “How are you going?”
“Crap, to be honest,” I answered, slowly pushing my trolley at the pace he was going.
“Yeah,” he said, giving me a concerned look-over. “You look heaps tired.”
“I am,” I replied. “Had a lot on my mind last night.”
“Anything I can help with?” Patrick asked, distractedly, as he grabbed a plastic bag and started filling it with apples.
“Actually, yeah,” I said, coughing to clear my throat.
Patrick looked over at me to continue and I coughed again, just to waste time. He was a good guy and I shouldn’t have doubted that. Why would he start a fire on purpose? What advantage would it give him? The only things that seemed to mean the most to him was music, Eve and Hamish.
Unless… they were the reasons he started it. Maybe he was financially insecure and needed money, but it got out of hand. Or maybe he was starting to feel the pressure and responsibilities that came with being a father. Just thinking about it in the middle of the supermarket was starting to give me a headache, so I parked my trolley out of the way, so other customers could squeeze by, took a deep breath and just started talking before I could back out.
“Do you smoke?” I blurted.
Patrick frowned at me and shook his head. “No. I’m really against the stuff. Not only will it affect my health, but it will destroy my family’s too. They’re way too important to me. Ryder, if you’re thinking about any sort of drug, you shouldn’t. You’re so close to graduation and you have a lot of potential. Don’t go down that road.”
“You think I- what-” I started to splutter. “No. No. I’m not thinking about drugs.”
He sighed in relief. “Good, because I know peer pressure can be tough sometimes. In high school, one of my best mates tried so hard to get me to smoke, he basically shoved half a used cigarette down my throat.”
“Rough,” I replied, then shook my head. We were veering off topic. “Look,” I started, “the reason I’m asking is because the fire at school was started with a lighter.”
He seemed to still, his actions frozen, just as he was about to drop another apple into the bag. It took him a moment to respond but he finally, but ever so slowly, turned to face me, taking everything out of his hands so he could concentrate.
“Are you accusing me?”
“No,” I said. “Christ. No.”
He looked sceptical, so I continued.
“I’ve been questioned about it. Some ass tipped me off to the police even though I have nothing to do with it. I’m just trying to get as much information as possible to try and get the authorities off my back. I have a lot of crap going on right now and I don’t need it.”
Patrick’s expression seemed to melt and he looked at me with sympathy. “I’m sorry… I can’t help you, Ryder. Honestly, I don’t know who did it and I don’t have much information.”
Much.
“Well, what do you know?” I asked.
He sighed and leaned in as he casually picked and dropped apples into his bag and shuffled over to weigh them. “I was one of the last people who had that lighter before it was used to start the fire.”
“I thought you didn’t smoke.”
“I don’t. I confiscated it from one of the kids who was in the class I had that day and gave him a lunchtime detention. He ran off before I could return it to him and give him a lecture. It was time for me to leave for the day, so I dropped it off at the principal’s office,” he said, being sure to keep his voice low.
“Whose lighter was it?” I whispered. “The kid probably snuck in and stole it back.”
“That’s what I thought,” he confessed. “But I looked up the online records and the kid I confiscated the lighter from was present in the detention I gave him.”
“This doesn’t add up,” I said, rubbing my head. It was starting to throb.
“You did nothing wrong, Ryder,” Patrick said, dumping the apples into the trolley and giving me a serious expression, “but you need to drop it, okay? You’re innocent and they have nothing against you, but the longer you linger around the scene of the crime, the more you’re covering yourself with evidence.”
“Patrick,” Eve said, returning with a paper ticket, “would you mind lining up at the deli for me and getting me five hundred grams of triple smoked ham?”
Patrick leaned down and kissed Eve’s forehead. “I’ll go now. Take care, Ryder. Remember what I said.”
Then he walked away.
I sighed. I felt like I had gotten somewhere, but at the same time, it was nowhere. After some complicated thinking of trying to connect the dots, I finally wheeled my trolley away and started grabbing the things I needed. All through getting the dairy section, the cereal aisle and the sweet shelves, I still tried to figure it all out, but when I finally thought I was getting somewhere, I’d always end up in the same confused place.
I guess I was thinking way too hard about all of it because I didn’t realise I had run someone over until I heard a high pitched shriek. Snapping out of my own thoughts, I rushed over to help the woman up.
“I’m so sorry,” I instantly blurted as I held her hand and pulled her to her feet.
When she was fully standing, I realised it was Mrs. Westfield. The principal.
“Ryder Collins,” she said, brushing her pencil skirt. “You’ve been so mischievous lately, both inside and outside of school.” She pursed her lips and looked at me through her glasses. “Why aren’t you at school?”
“I just got out of hospital,” I answered.
“Surely, if you have enough strength to go shopping, you have enough to attend school,” Mrs. Westfield answered.
Bitch.
“Why aren’t you at school?” I answered instead.
She raised a thin eyebrow. “That is none of your concern, Mr. Collins. But since you were absent these past few days, I suppose you have missed the important announcement at the assembly.”
I vaguely remembered Nora saying something about the assembly while I was in hospital, but I guess I was too drugged up to concentrate on what she was saying.
“I will be retiring at the end of the year,” she said.
“What?” I asked in disbelief.
“Unfortunately, I’m being forced. My health has become such a condition that I will not be fit enough to run the school,” she explained, adjusting her glasses. “However, it seems like perfect timing considering the fire.” I stared at her. Was Mrs. Westfield the ‘bitch’ Chris was talking to on the phone the previous day? Was she disappointed she was losing her job and needed something to keep her there? There were so many filled holes, yet so many more questions related.
“Now, please excuse me, I have somewhere to be now,” she said, looking at her watch. “Oh, and Ryder? Do be at school tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The hell I’d be at school. The scene of the crime needed to be investigated.
Forty
“Ryder,” Nora mumbled against my lips.
“Mm,” I muttered, but not because I was so engulfed in our kiss. It was more to do with the yellow tape surrounding the burned building that stood behind my girlfriend.
Nora gave me a small kiss before she leaned back a little and slid her hands down from my shoulders to adjust my tie and straighten the imaginary wrinkles on my uniform. It took some effort, but I finally tore my eyes away from the bricks covered in ash and looked down at her. She was always so patient and I felt guilty for not giving her my attention, especially since we hadn’t spent much time together.
“Stop obsessing over this whole thing, Ryder,” she whispered. “You’ve done nothing wrong so you don’t have anything to worry about. Everything will eventually unfold.”
I sighed. “I’m just so close.”
“Yet so far,” she finished, giving me a weak smile.
I reached down and threaded my fingers through hers. Rather than replying, I started walking her to her next class. We cut through the quad, the afternoon breeze warm against our skin, trying extremely hard to break through the winter cold and let spring develop. Even though the breeze was warm, allowing the temperature to rise slightly, Nora had left the house heavily clothed, thinking it’d be colder, but when realising it wasn’t, was too stubborn to take off her eskimo jacket. So basically, my girlfriend was a walking marshmallow.
“Nora, take off your jacket,” I said, poking the puffy material of her jacket.
She shook her head and swiped the back of her hand against her forehead. “I’m fine,” she wheezed.
I paused in the middle of the quad and looked at her worriedly. “You’re going to pass out if you get any warmer.”
I placed the back of my hand against her cheek and felt her heat up. Then I leaned down and kissed her nose, while unzipping her jacket and pushing it off. Bundling the thick fabric in my arms, I took her hand in mine again and we headed back towards class.
“Apparently there’s no school tomorrow.”
A pair of girls from the year below us passed us, speaking loudly so it was almost impossible to not overhear their conversation.
“Why?” asked the blonde.
The brunette pushed back her hair and answered, “I heard the police made a discovery and the area needs to be closed for further investigation.”
My ears perked up and Nora must have sensed it because she tightened her grip on my hand, stopped and jerked me back to meet her eyes. She folded her arms across her chest and gave me a stern look.
“I told you to stop,” she said. “You’re going to go to class, get through the rest of the day and then go home. Repeat it with me.”
“I’m going to go to class, get through the rest of the day and then go home,” I said in unison with Nora. Then quickly added in a low rush, “Right after I take a quick look.”
The warning bell rang, signalling that we were late for class. The school grounds were just about empty, other than a random student racing through the area to avoid a lecture from an angry teacher.
I kissed her forehead. “Go to class.”
“No,” she answered, firmly. “The only way I’ll go to class is if you go too.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“I’m going with you.”
There was no arguing with Nora at that point. She was stubborn and I knew that she’d stand her ground. So, I agreed for her to come with me. It just meant I’d have to be even more careful than planned because it was one thing for me to get in trouble, but something completely different if I got my girlfriend into my mess.
So, together, we turned back to the way we had arrived and walked towards the taped building. Looking up at the ash covered bricks, I thought there would have been a moment of hesitation, but as soon as my fingers touched the tape, I lifted it instantly and waited for Nora to duck under before I followed her. She swiftly bent and went through, then I followed.
Nora tiptoed towards the door, looking over her shoulders for anyone who might be watching and I followed, without the obvious signs of sneaking around. Before she would start creeping around like a mouse, I placed my hands on her waist so she’d settle and kept them there as she pulled her jumper over her hand, took the handle of the door and pulled it opened.
Before we stepped in, I mumbled into her hair, “If you hear someone coming, hide as quickly as possible and don’t come out until it’s safe, okay? If you get caught and the teacher has no idea who you are, act clueless and start talking gibberish. You can pass as a beautiful transfer student.”
She craned her neck so she could see me. “What about you?”
“I’m already neck-deep into this. I don’t exactly care where this leads to if I get caught,” I admitted. “I’m just worried about you.”
Nora gave me a reassuring smile. “We won’t get caught.”
Hopefully lingered at the end of her sentence, but it was unspoken.
Quietly, we slowly opened the door in case of any creaks or squeaks and once there was enough room to squeeze through, we sucked in and slipped through the gap we had created. Inside, the carpeted corridor was burned and the smell was suffocating. Nora and I – literally - crept through the opened classroom door, trying to touch as little as possible in attempt to reduce the traces of our whereabouts.
Inside the classroom, it was what you’d normally expect to see after a fire. There was burned furniture, crumbling by the corners and covered in ash. There were photographs of our school’s graduating classes scattered across the floor, glass shards covering them. Book pages were burned, textbooks ruined and equipment destroyed.
“Ryder, I don’t think we’re going to find anything in here,” Nora whispered from across the room.
From all the damage, I was starting to think the same. It would take a long time before we could find anything useful. But I must have been looking too hard because I hadn’t realised that the whole room was a clue. Instantly, my head snapped towards one of the desks.
“What are you looking for?” Nora hissed.
But I was too lost in the moment. I had a theory. A downright outrageous one but it seemed to make sense from all the information I had gathered. Ducking my head under the desk, I started
searching. At first, I was certain what I was looking for wouldn’t be found, but then I saw it, hidden under some ash, taped to the bottom of the desk.
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered to myself.
From how things were looking, my theory was a great one and it had evidence to back it up, but I didn’t know whether my discovery was valid or not. I slowly stood up. Everything was still at that moment, not a sound, not a breath. And then the slow, steady pace of footsteps.
I placed my finger over Nora’s lips, then gently lifted her towards safer ground. We were surrounded by glass and if she tried to escape, she’d make too much noise. She turned and looked at me frantically, wide hazel eyes darting back and forth in confusion. I gently moved my hand in the direction of the joint classroom and Nora silently ran towards the opened door to find a more suitable place to hide.
All I could do was crouch back under the desk I had been under and pray that no one would notice me there. The footsteps were coming closer, louder. My heart had found its way up to my ears and was now pounding frantically. My throat was dry from breathing through my mouth and when a shadow found its way through the opened door, I held my breath.
Now that the footsteps were closer, I could hear them better. Although the person’s journey was fragmented from glass and broken bits of wood, when the shoes hit the floorboards, it was unmistakably a woman. I closed my eyes and tried to stay as still as possible.
“Ryder Collins.”
I opened my eyes and looked up to see Mrs. Coleman staring down at me with her pointy shoes and hands on her hips. She gave me the same knowing smirk I had grown to know so well.
“Where’s your companion?”
“I came alone,” I answered, standing up and trying to fake nonchalance.
She raised an eyebrow and marched towards the opened door that led to the classroom next door. I held my breath again, feeling sick to the stomach. My insides clenched and squeezed and twisted in horror until Mrs. Coleman returned, holding Nora by the arm and tugging her out of the room.
Handcuffs, Kisses and Awkward Situations Page 23