by Tim Green
“Fine,” Josh said. “Just tired.”
“Hard work is what wins,” his dad said without looking up from the TV.
“Right,” Josh said, kissing them both on the forehead and climbing the stairs.
When he got into bed, Josh got a text from Jaden: “IM SO ASHAMED”
He sent her a text right back that said “DONT WORRY. IT WILL ALL B OK”
He jammed the cell phone under his pillow and lay back with his hands behind his head, staring at the slanted ceiling, barely visible in the small amount of light leaking in through the crack at the bottom of his door. The trophy caught his eye, and he studied its foggy shape. He let his mind wander over the situation, thinking about Rocky, the kind of person he was, and what mattered most to him.
It was then that Josh got an idea.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
WHEN JOSH WOKE THE next morning, the idea didn’t seem as good as it had in the middle of the night, but he still thought it could work. On the bus, he explained the plan to Jaden.
She looked at him with dull, puffy eyes and said, “Whatever.”
“Why do you say that?” Josh asked.
She shrugged and shook her head, then looked out the window.
They rode for a few minutes before Josh said, “You can’t just give up.”
“I know,” she said, her voice flat. “I won’t. I’m just tired, Josh. I feel terrible. I can’t believe it. My own father.”
“Jaden,” Josh said. “You don’t know what happened. Maybe Rocky threatened him or something.”
“With what?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Josh said, knowing it sounded ridiculous but wanting to somehow make her feel better. “But if they stop and don’t do it again, you have to put this all behind you, forgive and forget. My mom says that’s important.”
“Your mom’s nice,” Jaden said, “but I don’t know if I can.”
“Will you meet me during third period and try my plan?” Josh asked. Josh had study hall for third period, and Jaden had home economics.
“At the dugout?” she asked.
Josh nodded, and Jaden told him she would. The dugout was the only place they could go on school grounds where no one would see them and where they could also get good cell phone reception.
Josh put his books down on the desk in study hall and took out his math homework. He tried to concentrate and get some of it done but found he could do nothing except watch the clock. Ten minutes into the period, he got up and asked for the bathroom pass. Mrs. Grajko handed him the wooden pass without looking up from her work correcting papers.
Josh scooted down the hall, checking behind him before he strolled past the bathroom, jogged down the back stairs, and slipped through the doorway. When he got to the dugout, he found Jaden already there, lying on the bench with her head resting on her backpack.
“Did you just get here?” he asked, peering around the corner to make sure no one had seen or followed him.
Jaden didn’t answer; she just shook her head and kept staring up at the wooden slats that held up the roof.
“We said ten minutes into the period, right?” Josh asked, confused.
Jaden sighed, sat up, and said, “What’s the difference?”
“You’re skipping home ec?” Josh asked.
“Yup.”
“You’ll get detention,” Josh said.
She shrugged and said, “I’ll be here until late anyway to get the paper done.”
Josh stared at her for a moment, then said, “Well, can we do this?”
“Sure,” she said.
Josh took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He handed it to her and said, “See? It’s not really a script, but I put down the main points during social studies. What do you think?”
Jaden looked at the paper and shrugged.
“Jaden, come on,” Josh said. “Snap out of it. We’ve got to do this. He’d recognize my voice or I’d do it myself. Here, give me your phone. I got his number, and we have to block yours.”
Josh punched in *67, then dialed Rocky’s cell number and handed her back the phone.
“You want to rehearse?” he asked.
“No, I got it,” she said, hitting the SEND button and putting the phone on speaker so Josh could hear.
“You’re anonymous,” Josh said. “That’s the key, and don’t forget the Nike thing. That’s huge for him. Big money.”
Jaden nodded. The phone rang. Josh’s stomach clenched.
Rocky answered, saying hello, his voice rasping with toughness and low like a tuba’s. Jaden’s eyes widened, and Josh knew Rocky’s voice had startled her.
“Uh,” she said, “is this Rocky Valentine?”
“Who’s this?” he asked in a demanding tone.
“I know about”—Jaden swallowed and looked at Josh’s paper—“I know about the steroids.”
“Who are you?” Rocky asked, nearly shouting the last word.
“I’m the one who took the picture,” Jaden said, her voice reverting to her most southern twang so the word came out “pick-chore. “
“I don’t know about no picture,” Rocky said smoothly.
“I saw you,” she said, looking at Josh instead of the paper. “I saw you and my…doctor…you and Dr. Neidermeyer.”
Josh winced.
“‘My doctor’?” Rocky said. “So, he’s your doctor. That’s how you know about this, huh? Well, I’ll have to talk to the good doctor and find out what’s going on.”
“Don’t you dare!” Jaden screamed.
Rocky’s guttural laughter sounded like the cough of a sick lawn mower starting up. When he stopped, he said, “Tell you what. You just give me that camera and we forget about this whole thing.”
Jaden looked shaken. Josh pointed to his notes on the paper he’d given her and nodded his head.
Jaden looked down and said, “I have the picture on my phone, and it’s ready to go. If you don’t stop, I’m going to send it to the New York Times. What do you think Nike’s going to do then?”
Rocky went silent.
“You know about Nike, huh?” Rocky said, almost as if he was pleased and talking to himself. “Okay, I guess you got me. I’ll stop and you keep this to yourself, is that it?”
“That’s the deal,” Jaden said.
Josh nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, then pointed to his eye and then the phone.
“We’ll be watching, though,” Jaden said.
“Yeah, I bet you will,” Rocky said, then hung up.
Josh and Jaden looked at the phone, then at each other.
“What do you think?” Jaden asked.
“I think you did good,” Josh said.
“You think he’ll stop?” she asked.
“I do,” he said.
“Then what’s the matter?” she asked. “Why do you look so worried?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s like he knew I was here. Something in his voice just creeped me out, the way he said that about you knowing about Nike.”
“I’m sure he didn’t know you were here,” she said. “How could he?”
“I don’t know,” Josh said, shrugging. “You’re right. It’s just something in his voice, and maybe how well I know him. He’s a good coach, but he’s scary, too. When he looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you. Either way, I’ll find out soon enough.”
“When?”
“Today,” Josh said, peering around the edge of the dugout to make sure the coast was clear, “at practice.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
THE YELLOW RUBBER BALLS in the batting cage zipped by Josh like bullets. He blinked and squinted and tried to concentrate, but the only thing he could focus on was the look Rocky gave him at the beginning of practice. The muscular coach didn’t say anything, and Josh was sure no one else noticed it, but he also felt sure Rocky had gazed at him a split second longer than normal and that his eyelids had drooped momentarily, like a lizard ready to fall asleep until it suddenl
y saw something it wanted to eat.
“Get your head out of your behind, LeBlanc!” Moose yelled, feeding another ball into the machine.
Josh swung and dribbled one back at Moose.
“Just lost my groove,” Josh said weakly.
Moose grumbled and barked at Josh one more time at the end before sending him on to the next drill. Jones held the netting aside so Josh could come out of the cage.
“Don’t worry, buddy,” Jones said. “It happens.”
“Thanks, Jonesy,” Josh said.
On his way to the ball-toss station in the far corner of the field, Josh watched Rocky striding toward the concrete stairs. Josh checked the stands for his father, thinking that maybe Rocky was going to talk to him about Josh. But Josh’s father was nowhere in sight, and instead of talking to any of the parents who sat watching, Rocky disappeared through the main door, which probably meant he was heading to his office.
Josh turned and jogged over to the ball toss. Ten minutes later, Rocky reappeared in the middle of the field and blew the whistle to signal the end of practice. Josh looked up in the stands and waved to his dad, who had just arrived. But either his father didn’t see him or something was wrong. Josh’s father stood with his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his Windbreaker, his feet spread apart and his neck bulled back, a somber look on his face.
Rocky growled at the team, telling them they’d better improve tomorrow or they might as well not even go to the tournament on Saturday. Moose called them in, and they gave their “Do it to it” cheer and broke for the locker room.
Josh turned to go. When he heard Rocky call his name in that gruff, raspy voice, Josh’s stomach sank like a stone.
He turned and walked slowly toward the coach. Rocky’s dark flattop bristles gleamed with hair gel, and his small eyes flickered up and down and around Josh like gnats, without blinking once. Josh’s feet scuffed the plastic grass, and the smell of stale sweat filled his nose.
“Yeah, Coach?” Josh asked, swallowing.
“You okay?” Rocky asked, a small smile dancing on his lips.
“Sure,” Josh said, blinking.
Rocky held up Moose’s clipboard and said, “’Cause your cage stats stink.”
“Just lost my groove,” Josh said, the words sounding weak.
Rocky pressed his lips tight, turning his mouth into a hatchet gash. Then, without speaking, Rocky squinted at Josh, nodded, and flicked his chin toward the door, following Josh as he walked.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
JOSH’S STOMACH FLIPPED NOW, rising up, and he hurried for the locker room, where he thought he might lose what was left of his lunch. Instead of trailing him inside, Rocky disappeared, and when Josh passed through the metal doorway, the buzz of talk and the friendly banter of the guys settled his gut. He went straight to his locker, pausing for a second because he thought he’d left it shut but now it was open.
Josh looked around uncertainly. He had presumed the days of the older boys hazing him were long gone. As he removed his clothes, he checked them carefully for signs of Atomic Balm or butter or old chewing gum, but nothing was amiss. Josh forgot about it and even joined in on the banter when Jones loudly asked him who he thought more likely to one day be named to People magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive list, Jones or Tucker.
Josh voted for Tucker and everyone laughed at Jones, who growled and put Josh in a headlock and gave him a nuggy.
Outside the locker room, Josh found his dad standing off by himself in the lobby, holding his cell phone to one ear and plugging the other one with his free hand so he could hear. Josh’s dad was talking business and nodding and explaining something in a tone that sounded too much like pleading for Josh to want to hear, so he waved and pointed to the doors to signal that he’d wait outside. His dad nodded, and Josh found the car and climbed into the front seat, watching the entrance, half expecting Rocky to follow him out.
When his father arrived a couple minutes later, Josh asked, “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” his father said, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.
“Because you look kind of mad,” Josh said, toying with the zipper on his backpack.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” his dad said, brightening. “I’m just trying to close a deal is all. It’s nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me and the Titans?” Josh asked.
His dad glanced at him and shook his head. “No, why?”
“I just…had a bad day in the batting cage, that’s all,” Josh said.
“We all do,” his dad said, and Josh felt better.
They talked about the Titans’ chances in the tournament that weekend and that, because of the last U12 tryouts, his dad would miss the first couple games but would make it for the finals on Sunday. When they got home, Josh’s mom asked him to watch Laurel while she put the finishing touches on dinner.
After eating, Josh thought about checking in with Jaden but knew she was working on the school paper and told himself he’d call her when he finished his homework. He was nearly done when his cell phone buzzed and vibrated in his pants pocket. He checked and saw Benji’s number.
“What’s up?” Josh asked, looking at the time and seeing it was just past eight-thirty, later than he realized.
“How’s the paper coming?” Benji asked. “You guys getting anything done, or you too busy kissing?”
“Kissing?” Josh said, glaring at the phone as if Benji could see him. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Jaden,” Benji said, making kissing noises into the phone.
“Jaden’s at the school,” Josh said.
“I know,” Benji said, still kissing his phone. “You both are.”
“I’m home, meathead,” Josh said.
“No you’re not,” Benji said, without the noises. “She forwarded me the text that you sent to her.”
“I just finished math problem forty-seven,” Josh said. “Is that why you called?”
“Dude,” Benji said, “why’d you text Jaden that you’d meet her there, then?”
“To do what?” Josh asked.
“I don’t know; you sent her the text,” Benji said. “From earlier.”
“Let me go,” Josh said. “I’m gonna call her.”
“You can’t,” Benji said. “She’s in the school. There’s no reception. She took a break outside when she texted me.”
“You’re teasing me. I didn’t send her anything,” Josh said, his stomach sinking again.
His phone buzzed and chirped, and he looked at the text Benji forwarded him as they spoke, a text sent from him to Jaden, then from Jaden to Benji.
“ILL MEET U THERE AT 830 LEAVE DA SIDE DOOR OPEN”
“You see that?” Benji asked.
Josh saw that the text had been sent from his phone number, even though it wasn’t possible. He punched the menu on his phone and brought up his sent items. The mailbox was empty.
“Someone erased everything,” Josh said. “But I never sent that.”
“Then who did?” Benji asked. “Who’d want her to think you were going to meet her at the school?”
Josh’s mind spun, and it all came together.
“Oh my God,” Josh said. “Rocky.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
JOSH THREW OPEN HIS bedroom door and ran down the stairs, telling Benji to get his bike and meet him at the corner of Grant and Turtle. Josh snapped the phone shut and dashed past the family room, where his parents called out to him from the couch.
“Gotta meet Benji,” Josh said without stopping. “Something for school.”
“Back by nine-thirty!” his dad shouted after him.
Josh had already snatched his hooded sweatshirt off its hook and was halfway out the door. He flung open the garage door, jumped on his bike, and pedaled like crazy. Streetlights, parked cars, telephone poles, and houses rushed past him in a blur so fast his eyes watered. His legs began to burn; what power he still had left from the grueling practice was b
eginning to fade. Up ahead, he saw Benji standing beside his bike. Josh zipped past him, leaning into the turn and shooting across the street.
“Come on!” he yelled to Benji, heading up Grant Boulevard toward the school.
After a minute, Benji pulled up alongside him, his face glazed with sweat and pedaling like a madman himself.
“What are we doing?” Benji said.
“It’s Rocky,” Josh said, puffing. “It’s got to be. He took my phone during practice. He must have sent that text, then erased it. He’s going to get Jaden.”
Benji knew everything from lunch, and he said, “Wait. Josh. We should call the cops.”
“And tell them what?” Josh asked, seeing the shape of the school up ahead now, rising in the darkness beyond the streetlights.
“I don’t know,” Benji said. “That Rocky’s going to kill her or something.”
“He’s not going to kill her,” Josh said.
“How do you know?” Benji asked.
Josh didn’t answer. He set his teeth and kept pedaling. When he saw a break in traffic, he signaled to Benji. They jumped the curb and shot across Grant and into the school driveway. The office for the school paper was in an unused classroom in the back corner across the hall from the science lab. Tall trees cast dark shadows across the windows and the parking spaces along that side of the school. Two Dumpsters sat slumped like sleeping ogres. Next to them, Josh saw the black Porsche, and he pulled his bike up short.
Benji stopped next to him, breathing hard.
“What do we do?” Benji asked.
Josh climbed off his bike and studied the building. No lights shone from within. But Josh was pretty certain that the room where Jaden should be working on the paper had no outside window.
“Stay here,” Josh said, dropping his bike down in the parking lot and heading for the side entrance.
“And do what?” Benji said, his voice breaking with fear.
“I don’t know,” Josh said. “But if he comes out, don’t let him leave.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Benji cried, his voice ending in a squeak.