Salvation's Song

by Pearl Love

  “Missing?”

  “His mom said he never came home last night.” Kevin sniffed. “I just saw him at Little League practice yesterday. We walked together for a few blocks before separating the same as we do almost every day.”

  Tyrell couldn’t breathe as he was gripped by an acute feeling of dread. Oh my God, he thought frantically. He remembered reading the article about the middle schooler who’d died. That kid would have been nearly the same age as Kevin and his friend.

  “I’m sorry,” he managed finally, his stomach churning as he feared the worst. “We just have to pray he’s okay.” Tyrell was essentially agnostic on the subject of talking to God, but he figured his brother could use any reassurance he could give. He wrapped his arm around Kevin and sat silently beside him, wishing there was something else he could do.

  The need to talk to Jeremy gripped Tyrell even tighter. Monday morning couldn’t arrive soon enough.

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  “TOMORROW WE’RE having a mini-quiz on first order derivatives. Now, now,” the teacher said over the chorus of groans, “this will count only minimally toward your grade. If you’ve been doing your homework assignments, you won’t have any problem.”

  As Jeremy packed away his precalculus book, his mind was already elsewhere. He’d always been good at math, and the class wasn’t presenting any particular challenge, at least not thus far. He had far more important things to think about instead of the upcoming test.

  As though something were conspiring against them, Tyrell hadn’t been in school yesterday. Jeremy hadn’t asked Ryan or Cynthia why he was absent, not wanting to betray his interest, but he’d fretted at the delay in continuing their conversation from Friday afternoon. Finally Tuesday arrived, but the morning was a complete disaster. Like the day before, Jeremy had intended to get to school early in order to catch up with Tyrell before first period, but the southbound traffic on Halsted had been ridiculous, and he’d ended up arriving with mere minutes to spare before the bell sounded. He’d changed his plan to finding time to speak with Tyrell before homeroom, but that also failed. His first class was chemistry, and during that morning’s lab, one of his classmates had managed to drop a test tube and spill the compound they’d been working with all over the floor. The teacher had taken out her annoyance by insisting everyone help clean up before they were excused.

  By the time Jeremy made it to homeroom, Mr. Crabtree was already walking in the door ahead of him. Tyrell had clearly been waiting for him if the anxious look on his face was any indication. Jeremy had felt bad about wasting the opportunity to catch him up on what little he’d learned about his pendant, but there was nothing to be done. Mr. Crabtree had already begun taking attendance, so they couldn’t speak freely.

  “Let’s talk after practice,” Tyrell whispered. “Shit has gotten crazy.”

  Jeremy’s interest was piqued, and he’d spent the rest of the day on pins and needles. He’d thought about pulling Tyrell aside after lunch, but Tyrell had Physics afterward, and Mr. Brady was a known hardass about tardiness. Now, as Jeremy headed for his last class, econ, he was preoccupied with trying to guess what had Tyrell so jumpy.

  “Hey, you’re Jeremy, right?”

  The voice was unfamiliar, so it was a few seconds before Jeremy realized he was being hailed. He looked around and found himself face-to-face with a tall girl with blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a sunbed tan. She was smiling at him, and he blinked at her in confusion, having no clue who she was.

  “Um, yeah. I’m Jeremy.”

  “Oh good.” The girl’s smile broadened until Jeremy was certain he could see all of her teeth. “I’m Amanda. I’m on the dance squad.”

  Jeremy nodded, not sure what else to say. He’d seen the squad practicing near the athletic field behind the school, though he didn’t know any of the members. The only person he’d recognized was the pretty girl with braids he’d seen with Tyrell.

  “Anyway,” Amanda continued, “my friend Nicole Martin—she’s on the basketball team—is having her Sweet Sixteen party in a couple of weeks. We would love it if you could make it.”

  Jeremy was stunned. “Me?” he asked, the pitch of his voice painfully high. “Uh, why?”

  Amanda beamed as though thrilled he’d posed the question. “As members of the dance squad, we pride ourselves on upholding the true spirit of Winton Yowell. Since you’re new here this year, we just want to make sure that you feel welcome.”

  “Okay,” Jeremy replied slowly, not completely sure he believed her. He doubted he was the only transfer student that year, so he couldn’t imagine why he was being singled out for special consideration. Unless, of course, Nicole was inviting every new student to her party, though that seemed highly unlikely. Maybe it was because he hung out with Tyrell and Cynthia and, to a degree, Ryan, at least during lunch. Being seen regularly with two popular athletes and a guy as handsome as Tyrell must have conferred some status on him without him even realizing it. Or maybe it had been Tyrell’s idea. The thought sent a surge of warmth through him. “Um, thanks for the invitation.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” He hoped he sounded neutral instead of betraying his reaction to Tyrell’s thoughtfulness.

  “Fabulous!” Amanda clasped her hands and held them to her overstuffed chest in a classic pose of excitement, her tight pink sweater straining at the seams as she hunched her shoulders toward her ears.

  Jeremy thought she looked like something out of an Archie’s comic strip.

  “One of us will let you know the details once everything is finalized. You have a great rest of your day, Jeremy!”

  As he watched Amanda walk away, he wondered if she had to work on sounding like a preppy kindergarten teacher. Though he remained somewhat skeptical of her motives, he thought going to the party might not be such a bad idea. No doubt, Tyrell would be there with his girlfriend. Seeing them together in that setting, where they’d probably be dancing and making out, would be good for him. Watching Tyrell slobber all over that girl was guaranteed to put his stupid crush on ice where it belonged.

  Maybe I’ll take Patricia, Jeremy mused as he continued along to his class. It wasn’t like he hated her, even though her flirting made him uncomfortable, and having her along would make going to an event where he probably wouldn’t know too many people less intimidating. He was thinking about how to pose the question to her when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said after glancing at the caller ID. “What’s up? I’m headed to class right now.”

  “Sorry to bother you, sweetie, but I wanted to make sure you remembered that you promised to look after Cathy tonight.”

  “Hey watch it!”

  Jeremy glanced in apology at the guy who had bumped into him when he stopped dead in the busy hallway. “I did?”

  Monica sighed. “Yes, Jeremy. Irina and Nate are having their anniversary dinner tonight. You told her you’d babysit in exchange for a new pair of Nikes. Remember now?”

  “Crap,” Jeremy mumbled, making sure to angle the phone away from his face so his mother wouldn’t hear. “Yeah, okay. What time do I need to be at their place?”

  “Their reservations are at 6:00 p.m., so they planned to leave no later than five to accommodate traffic.”

  Jeremy did a quick calculation and groaned. He’d need to leave school the instant band practice was done in order to have time to catch the extra bus that would take him to his sister’s house.

  “Got it,” he said. “Thanks, Mom.” For nothing, he thought futilely as he disconnected the call.

  If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn the universe was purposefully ruining his attempts to talk to Tyrell. Jeremy made a mental note to give Tyrell his cell number. Maybe they could at least talk on the phone after his niece went to bed that evening. He just hoped Tyrell wasn’t too annoyed with the additional delay.

  TYRELL LOOKED down toward where Jeremy sat at the front of th
e band room as Mr. Crabtree took the brass section through their part. His anxiety had only increased over the weekend, and when he’d had to stay home the day before to look after his grandmother, who’d had a very bad Sunday, he was ready to tear out his hair. But it couldn’t be helped, not since his mother couldn’t get Monday off. Fortunately, she’d arranged to work from home today so he could go to school.

  After being forced to wait an extra day to talk to Jeremy, Tyrell was extremely disappointed they hadn’t had a chance to speak before homeroom or at lunch, but at least practice was nearly over. He was still reeling from what he’d discovered during his impromptu computer search, as well as over the news concerning Kevin’s missing friend. His brother had been distraught, so much so that he had barely eaten since Friday. Joanne had been sympathetic, but her only response was that they all needed to pray for young Jerome’s safe return. Tyrell was sick with the suspicion that when Jerome was found, he would be the latest in the string of unexplained victims that had been cropping up over the city.

  “Excellent work, everyone,” Mr. Crabtree said as the hour ended. “See you all tomorrow.”

  Tyrell cast another glance at Jeremy as he hastily straightened up his area. He didn’t have much to do, since his only job was to make sure all the drumsticks were returned to the storage case located behind the percussion section. Jeremy was still disassembling his clarinet, so Tyrell figured he’d be finished by the time Jeremy was ready to leave.

  “Hey, Tyrell, do you have a second?”

  Tyrell looked over at Tina. “I guess. Something wrong?” He nodded at Ray, the bass drummer, who came to stand next to her.

  “Oh no,” Tina said hastily. “Ray and I were just wondering if you might consider joining the Chicago All-City Drumline.”

  Tyrell frowned, annoyed at the interruption although he was curious. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a city-wide group for middle school and high school percussionists,” Ray explained. “We’ve both been involved for a few years now. The group performs at various events, like the Chinese New Year parade in Chinatown and some of the Saint Patrick’s Day events. We even give concerts now and then along with the All-City Band and Orchestra groups. It was formed to benefit ‘inner city youth’ and all that noise,” he added, crooking his finger in air quotes as he rolled his eyes, “but it’s a lot of fun.”

  “We think you’d love it,” Tina said.

  “I guess,” Tyrell replied noncommittally. He searched for Jeremy and nodded when their gazes met. Jeremy was mouthing something, and it took a moment for Tyrell to decipher it over the distance between them.

  Sorry, I have to leave right now.

  Tyrell grimaced, dismayed at the prospect of having to wait yet another day to talk to Jeremy. He and Jeremy had been exchanging meaningful glances all day, and if the regret on Jeremy’s face was any indication, he was as bummed as Tyrell felt. Whatever the reason, it must be something unavoidable. Still, Tyrell wasn’t sure he could hold his peace a moment longer.

  “Tryouts are next weekend. You can just play what we’ve been practicing here at school.” Tina smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem getting in.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Tyrell said absently. “I’ll think about it. I gotta go. See you tomorrow,” he added as an afterthought as he jogged toward the door. Jeremy had left only moments before, and Tyrell was hoping he might still grab him. He knew Jeremy usually walked to Halsted to catch the bus. It was on his way, and the walk would offer them the perfect, if brief, chance to speak.

  Jeremy was nowhere to be seen when Tyrell burst out of the band room, so he rushed down the hallway toward the exit door. The crowd hanging around outside of the building was pretty thin, since the only people still there were those with after-school activities. It took only a moment for Tyrell to spot Jeremy’s distinctive hairstyle. He opened his mouth to call out, but someone else beat him to it.

  “Hey, faggot! Got a hot date tonight?”

  “Maybe he’s got some cock to suck down. Suck suck suck!”

  Jeremy never stopped walking, but Tyrell froze in his tracks. What the actual fuck? He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Oh, he was well aware Winton Yowell boasted the usual contingent of jerks that might be found in any adolescent-dominated environment, but he’d personally never witnessed any real bullying. What made it worse was that he knew the guys who were doing the heckling. They were football players, and Tyrell was just glad Ryan wasn’t one of them. Ryan might not be the most sensitive guy on the planet, but he hopefully had more sense than to be involved in something like this.

  As for Jeremy, what had he done to deserve such hatefulness? From their short acquaintance, Tyrell knew Jeremy wasn’t the type to draw attention to himself. If not for Cynthia, it’s doubtful they’d have ever spoken a word to each other, let alone discovered their improbable connection. Now that Tyrell knew him better, Jeremy had proven to be a perfectly nice person, someone whom Tyrell wouldn’t have minded being friends with even if they didn’t have so much unexpectedly in common.

  Tyrell knew he should say something. He even got as far as opening his mouth to tell the players to back off, but then he really processed what those assholes were saying. Damn, he thought, shocked at the revelation. They thought, or at least suspected, that Jeremy was gay. Tyrell had a sneaking suspicion they were right on the mark. He couldn’t deny the uncharitable thoughts he’d had about Jeremy when they’d met, though he’d since chalked that up to the confusing mix of reactions he’d experienced upon seeing Jeremy for the first time. Even now, he was still uncomfortable with the fact that he found Jeremy nearly as pretty as he did Shaunteé.

  A resurging ambivalence kept him silent. Honestly, what was he supposed to do? What if he spoke up and other people found out a guy had turned his head, even if for only an instant. He’d never live it down, no matter that he was pretty sure he could take any of those meathead jerks in a one-on-one fight. Anyone who stepped up to defend Jeremy now, especially if it was another guy, would be implicated by association. Who would want to invite that sort of scrutiny? He sure as hell didn’t. But he couldn’t simply allow those idiots to keep harassing his friend, could he?

  Caught in a web of indecision, Tyrell could only watch until Jeremy had passed the zone of danger. A sense of helplessness churned in his stomach, but nothing else happened. Soon enough Jeremy was a block away, almost out of sight. Tyrell felt like an abject coward, all thoughts of what he’d been so desperate to tell Jeremy forgotten beneath the weight of his self-disgust.

  “Un-fucking-believable.”

  Tyrell squeezed his eyes shut, though he couldn’t block out the sound of Cynthia’s voice. Her tone dripped with utter disgust. He didn’t want to turn to face her, knowing what he’d find when he did. She took the decision out of his hands by coming around to stand directly in front of him. Her hands were firmly on her hips, and the angry disappointment on her face made him feel like complete shit.

  “You did not just do that, Tyrell,” she hissed. “I thought you guys were friends!”

  Unable to defend his behavior, Tyrell had no choice but to go on the offensive. “Well, you didn’t say anything either,” he said lamely.

  “Because I only just got here, and I knew you would! Or at least, I thought you would.” Cynthia shook her head, the muscles in her jaw bunching as she clenched her teeth. “I know you’re better than that. Jeremy is new here. I’m sure he didn’t feel confident enough to stick it to those dumbasses, but they all know you. If you’d said something—”

  “Then what?” Tyrell shot back, his anger increasing more and more with every completely justified word she spoke. “They would have listened to me? Is that what you were going to say? Yeah right.” He turned his head away from her and spit on the sidewalk, ridding his mouth of the bile that had risen into this throat. She wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t already considered, but it hurt even more coming from such a trusted source. Still, he felt powerless to
change what he had done. “I’m not his babysitter, Cynthia, and it’s not like they did anything to him.”

  “Sticks and stones, huh? Is that what you mean?” Cynthia exhaled sharply. She pressed her lips together as though forcibly repressing what else she wanted to yell at him. “What about when they exchange their words for actual stones? What, then?” Tyrell could feel her glare burning into him for a long moment, but when he didn’t respond or even meet her gaze, she clicked her tongue and turned away. “Whatever, Tyrell. Have it your way.”

  He stared after her as she stomped off, wondering how this day had gone so completely off the rails.

  Chapter NINETEEN

  JEREMY FIDGETED impatiently as he watched the stream of people entering the main building. He regretted having missed giving Tyrell his cell number the day before so they could talk while he was babysitting, but he was hopeful they could speak before classes started today. He’d made it a point to get to school early and, for once, public transportation had cooperated.

  “Good morning, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy looked over at the unexpected female voice. “Oh hey, Patricia.”

  She smiled in return and continued walking toward the building. Remembering his decision to ask her to the birthday party, Jeremy turned toward her before she could get too far. “Um, Patricia?”

  She spun around, her ponytail following the abrupt movement by whipping out in a wide arc. “Yes?”

  Jeremy took half a second to rethink his plan before driving ahead. “Apparently one of the girls on the basketball team, uh, Nicole Martin?” He waited until Patricia nodded for him to go on, although there was no recognition in her eyes at the name. “Anyway, she’s having a birthday party in a couple of weeks, and I’m going. Would you, um, like to go with me?” Guilt slammed into him when her face lit with a bright grin, and he almost reconsidered, but she was already speaking.