“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It happened. Which is proof you can’t help me.”
“You think going it alone is going to make you less vulnerable, Dude?”
But Sully wasn’t listening. He clamped his hands over his ears, which were in the process of receding under his hairline, and charged out of the school.
“Bella!”
“Leave me alone,” Sully said.
“I saw your movie, Bella. You’re famous!”
“Even you can’t be that stupid.” Sully pushed past Winston.
Unbalanced by Sully’s nudge, Winston fell to one knee, causing him to drop his books and scrape his palms.
“Bella?” Winston’s wide eyes, shiny and full, shifted alternately between Sully and the blood on his hands.
“Stop your crying and grow up,” Sully said as he walked backward away from him.
“Are you okay, Bella?” Winston’s bottom lip trembled.
“What do you think, Winston? Do I look okay to you? Oh, yah. You don’t have a clue, do you? You think everything’s a stupid game, because everyone tiptoes around you and tries to make you feel safe and happy. Well, I’ve got news for you. Everyone’s lying to you. Nothing is okay. The real world is rotten and mean, and all people want to do is hurt you. The sooner you figure that out the better.”
“That’s not what I think, Bella.”
“Your problem is you don’t think at all, Winston. And my stupid name isn’t Bella, okay? Just leave me alone.”
By the time the park deposited him onto True Street, Sully paused, doubled over from a stitch in his side. As he leaned for a moment on Mr. C’s fence, Pumbaa fell on the sidewalk in front of him.
“So, what’s that supposed to mean, Mr. C.!” he shouted at the house. For emphasis, he ground the little plastic Pumbaa into the sidewalk, much as he’d done emotionally to Winston just minutes before. A few feet away, he saw Charlie Brown half-buried in the dirt, upside down.
“Well, that’s great.” He grabbed the fence and shook it. “That’s just great! What are you trying to tell me that I don’t already know! I’m a loser! I get it!”
The Sleeping Beauty character toppled as a result of Sully’s tantrum, but the twist tie attaching her to the knight kept her from plummeting to the sidewalk. Darth Vader, Goyle, and The Riddler, unaffected by Sully’s little tantrum, held firm.
Placing his hands on the fence a third time, Sully became aware that the curtains of the front window had parted, and that Mr. C. was staring at him, shaking his head.
“You don’t know anything!” Sully shouted. “You’re just a stupid, senile old man who plays with dolls!”
Pulling back from the fence, Sully kicked Charlie Brown before lighting off for Perdu and sprinting the rest of the way home.
CHAPTER 30
“Stop playing with your food, Sullivan. Come on, eat up. I made brownies for dessert.”
Tick, thought Sully. Mom noticed my picking.
“It’s really good, Mom,” Sully said. “I don’t know. My stomach’s just feeling a bit woozy.”
“Did you skip lunch?”
You could say that, Sully mused.
“You’re probably just over-hungry. Eat up and you’ll feel better.”
“No, it’s not that. The thing is, I’m not hungry. Or at least, I am, but I’m just not feeling well.”
“You have to eat your dinner before you can have dessert,” said Eva. “Brownies, Rooster. Your favorite.”
“You can have my share of brownies, Eva,” Sully said. “Mom, I think I need to lie down for a bit. Can I be excused?”
“How about I keep your plate warm.” Mom eyed him with concern. “I’ll check in on you in an hour?”
“No.” Sully injected just the right amount of whine and breathlessness. He’d decided that the best way to be invisible at Wild Forest was to disappear completely. He intended to milk his fabricated illness for as long as he could, and the best time to launch an operation of this sort was dinner the evening before.
“No,” he said again. “I think I just need to get to bed early. I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.”
This last part, he knew, was genius. Of course, the plan was to get steadily worse throughout the night. With the bathroom beside his parents’ room, he’d set his alarm to do some impressive retching in the middle of the night.
The cafeteria video had decided things for him. One way or another, he’d find a way to be invisible, and step one was to stay away from school as much as possible. Thinking about it, he knew Morsixx and Blossom weren’t responsible. More than that, he knew they really did care about him. But that didn’t mean they could save him, and the video was proof of that.
“Oh,” said Eva. “I almost forgot! Jennifer’s brother, Nathan, said you were in a movie at school today, Rooster.”
“A movie?” said Mom.
“Nathan said the whole school watched it,” said Eva. “You’re famous, Rooster!”
“Nathan must be talking about my PowerPoint presentation for Mr. Green,” said Sully, thinking fast. “I had to do mine on menstruation.”
“Oooh, Vanny,” said his stepdad. “Menstruation. That was unlucky.”
Mom gave Bill a dirty look.
“What’s men station?” asked Eva.
“Just something to do with trains,” said Sully, thinking quickly again. “You, know. Train stations, Eva?”
“Oh,” Eva said, echoing Bill. “That was unlucky.”
You don’t know the half of it, thought Sully.
“Why was that unlucky, Dad?” Eva looked confused.
“Did I say unlucky?” said Bill. “I meant lucky! Trains are cool, right, Sully?”
“Sure,” said Sully. “Trains are cool. But it wasn’t the whole school who saw it.” Yah, it was, he thought. “Just my health class.”
“Are you sure you can’t eat, Sullivan?” said Mom.
“Maybe in a bit,” said Sully. “I’m pretty sure if I just lie down and get some rest, I’ll feel better.”
Everything was going according to plan. Mom excused Sully from the table and he retreated to his room with his door closed. He was just about asleep, in fact, when the vibration of his phone woke him.
Morsixx. After the fifth call, Sully turned his phone off. He curled up in his blankets with his alarm set for 1 am.
The clanking of dishes, the polite trill of the phone, the buzz of faraway conversation. All the sounds began to run together in Sully’s head, when Mom’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Sullivan?”
CHAPTER 31
“Sullivan, I’m coming in. We need to talk.”
Sully pulled the blankets away from his eyes. His mother leaned against the doorframe with the phone in her hand.
“You’ve not been truthful with me.”
A thousand possibilities chased through Sully’s brain. Mr. C’s fence? Winston’s bloody hands? The cafeteria video?
Winston’s bloody hands. For the first time since the incident, Sully felt a sting of shame.
“I just got off the phone with your principal,” Mom supplied. “She told me you’ve cut classes two days in a row. She also mentioned your involvement in some incidents she thinks we should talk about. What’s this about, Sullivan? Talk to me.”
For half a second, Sully contemplated telling his mom the whole story, but he bit his tongue. Which was above his nose, just under his brow bone. He was beginning to admit to himself that he might just be his own worst enemy, and that his extreme attempts to evade attention were the very things that got him singled out.
Well, all the more reason he needed to make smarter decisions. He knew his mom meant well, but that didn’t mean she could save him, any more than Morsixx and Blossom could.
What was it Tank said on that very fir
st bus ride? That he needed to respect himself? Well, part of respecting himself meant trusting his instincts and, right now, his gut told him that letting his mom fight his battles for him was not going to make him seem like less of a loser to Tank.
No. He needed to save himself, and sometimes saving yourself meant not joining the fight. Even whole armies retreat sometimes, when they know the odds are stacked against them.
“Sullivan?”
“Don’t worry, Mom. It’s true I cut some classes yesterday and today, but it’s only because I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to worry you.”
He held his breath to see if she’d buy it.
“You think this makes me less worried?”
“Really, Mom. I was just trying to make adult decisions for myself.”
Ooh, he thought, that’s good.
Or maybe not. Mom looked dubious at best.
“Look, Sullivan, I don’t know what’s going on, but that doesn’t explain the rest of what Miss Winters said about, quote, incidents. What is she referring to? How can I help you if you withhold information from me?”
“It’s not how it looks,” said Sully. “I’m starting to feel better now that I’ve rested a bit. I’ll go in early and explain things to Miss Winters, okay?”
Real early, he thought. He’d spend the night forging a sick note from his mom, and slip it in the school office before any of the other students showed up.
“Well, we actually don’t have a choice about that,” said Mom. “You and I have a meeting with Miss Winters at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
CHAPTER 32
As Sully and his mother stood outside the principal’s office the next morning, Sully’s eyes maneuvered in calculated angles across his face like a pair of spies entering an unsecured location.
“Your son is off to a dubious start,” Miss Winters began, before Sully and his mother had even taken their seats. “The facts are that your son has been cutting classes and was involved in two incidents involving inappropriate displays of feminine protection.”
“Sullivan was assigned a presentation on menstruation,” said Mom. “He was required to speak on the subject.”
“Every student in Mr. Green’s class was assigned a similar presentation, and none of them caused a school-wide commotion. Nor are any of them truant. When your son does attend class—”
“He has a name,” said Mom.
“Of course,” said Miss Winters. “But hardly the point. The point is that his teachers inform me that when he deigns to attend class, he is inattentive and unprepared. I’ve noticed myself that he alienates and is somewhat rude to his fellow students. In my experience,” Winters continued, “this kind of behavior often stems from the home. Is there something you want to share with me?”
“Share with you?” said Mom.
“Yes,” said Miss Winters. “I see from the file that Sullivan’s father has not been part of his life since Sullivan was just a baby. Single parenthood can’t be easy.”
“Ours is not a single parent household,” said Mom. “But even if it was, the point is irrelevant.”
Sully turned to look at his mom. It struck him that the quiet measure of her voice was laced with something more dangerous.
“There is nothing wrong with Sullivan’s home life,” said Mom, “and if I’m not mistaken, we’re here to talk about his behavior in school.”
“The point I’m trying to make, Miss Davidson—”
“Mrs. Davidson,” said Mom.
“Mrs. Davidson.” Miss Winters parroted Mom’s inflection. Her mouth was smiling but her eyes were not. “The point I’m trying to make . . . Mrs. Davidson, is that a child’s situation at home impacts his behavior at school. The two are inextricably linked.”
Sully’s mom seemed to be following this conversation, even though Sully himself was becoming increasingly confused.
“Do you have children, Miss Winters?”
“Five hundred and thirty-four of them this year alone, Mrs. Davidson. And I’ve been an administrator for twenty-seven years, so—”
“I asked you if you had children,” said Mom. “Your own children.”
“Well, no, I—”
“Which qualifies you, exactly how, to pass judgment on parenting?” said Mom. The level of Mom’s voice was steadily escalating.
“It qualifies me eminently,” said Miss Winters. “With my judgment unclouded by emotional attachments, I’m able to bring decisive objectivity to the upbringing and discipline of the young people who populate the various institutions I’ve led for the past twenty-seven years.”
“Is that so?” said Mom. “Well, I have news for you, Miss Winters. You know about as much about raising a child as I do about astrophysics, which, in case you miss the point, is zilch.”
“Mrs. Davidson!” Miss Winters stood so that her spindly frame towered over Sully and his mom.
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Sullivan’s home life.”
Sully’s mom stood to emphasize the point. She faced Miss Winters eyeball-to-eyeball.
“I have a loving husband who would do anything for our children and, as Sullivan’s mother, I would claw and defend Sullivan to the death, if it came to it. If Sully’s having troubles I haven’t been aware of, thank you for informing me, but casting blame helps no one. Sullivan is an intelligent, sensitive soul, who just needs a couple of years to grow into his own sense of self, which, incidentally, is no different from the other five hundred and thirty-three young people you so superciliously claim as your own.”
Mom and Miss Winters stood like mirror opposites across the desk, palms flat, spread fingers extending from rigid arms, brows creased, eyes narrowed.
Sully found himself impressed by how his mother stood up to Winters. And how she stuck up for him—like the proverbial lioness protecting her young. It crossed his mind that even Tank wouldn’t be a match for his mother. Nevertheless, he wasn’t sure this exchange was really going to do him any favors with Miss Winters in the long run.
“Sullivan.” His mom broke stance first. “You won’t cut any more classes, is that clear?”
Sully nodded.
“And you and I will talk about everything at dinner this evening, understand?”
Sully nodded again. His lips zigzagged down his face to rest on the left side of his jaw, while his ears circled in unison around the circumference of his face. And that wasn’t all. His brain was also doing some pretty impressive gymnastics, as it flipped between relief at having his mom fight his battles and fear that he’d be pegged as a momma’s boy.
“Good, then,” said Mom. “I think we’re done here. Grab your backpack and get to class, Sullivan.”
As they exited the office, Sully spotted Tank in the hallway.
“I’m not feeling very well,” said Sully. And he really wasn’t. His eyes spun in their sockets and his stomach felt like a ship in the middle of a perfect storm. He might as well take advantage of Mom’s lioness instincts.
“I agree that was unpleasant,” said Mom, “but I’m sure what you’re feeling is just nerves, and this wouldn’t be the best time for you to miss classes, don’t you think? Plus, I’m pretty sure there’s more to this than you’re telling me, so you and I do need to talk this evening. Okay, Sullivan?”
“Okay, Mom.” He realized the only way out of this was to play along. “See you after school.”
He maneuvered to the other side of his mother to evade Tank’s notice. Nerves or not, his stomach really didn’t feel good. Once he was sure Mom was gone, he bolted for the bathroom.
It was a good call. Surveying his breakfast, now floating in the toilet bowl, he doublechecked that no pieces of his face had dislodged in the process. Satisfied, he flushed twice and staggered to the sink to splash water on his face.
Okay, he thought. I can handle this. I must have som
e of Mom’s genes. And in that moment, he really did feel better.
He turned off the tap and looked in the mirror. What he saw was far worse than anything he’d seen since this whole nightmare began. But it wasn’t his distorted facial features that caught his attention this time, even though they were currently putting on quite a show.
Scrawled in black marker across the mirror was a list of three names. Numbers two and three were kids he’d never heard of, but at the top of the list was a single name: “Sally.”
Sully was on the short list.
CHAPTER 33
The short list.
One of the students on this list would receive the Black Spot in the next seven days, and, within thirteen days after that, would be fully exposed in the Naked Niner attack.
That was the pattern, and part of the torture was knowing that it was imminent but not knowing exactly when. You could protect yourself if you knew when. You could surround yourself with allies. But without a firm date, part of the way they got you was with the anxiety you dressed yourself in each morning.
Sully tore out of the bathroom. He staggered drunkenly under the weight of his backpack until he reached the top of the stairway. As if surfacing after too long under water, he gasped for air and pulled at the tight knots in his neck. His face was like an electronic switchboard on overload, every one of his features pinging, sliding, blinking, colliding in constant motion, and completely out of his control.
Tripping down the stairway, he barged into the school office.
“Miss Winters!”
“You are supposed to be in class, Mr. Brewster.”
“They’re out to get me! I need your help!”
“Calm down, Mr. Brewster. Who is ‘they?’”
“I looked in the mirror. I’m on the short list.” He had a sense that hysteria was making him incoherent.
“I’m certain you haven’t finished growing. And I hardly think your height is anything to get hysterical about.”
“No!” said Sully. “Not the short list. The short list.”
“You are not making sense and I have a call I need to return.” She looked around then, as if afraid Sully’s mother might be within earshot. “Do yourself a favor and blend in, Mr. Brewster. Stop calling attention to yourself. Now get to class.”
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