Just Another Hero
“I see you have new shoes as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And where are the receipts for all of this?”
“I think they’re in my purse.” Her hands started shaking.
He eyed her closely. “How much did the outfit and shoes cost?”
“They were on sale,” Arielle said evasively.
Chad paused, as if he were waiting to reel in a wriggling fish. “Arielle, you had no allowance last week. How did you pay for the clothing and shoes? Did you steal them?”
Arielle stared at him in disbelief. “Did I—did I—what?” she sputtered. “Are you accusing me of—Who the hell do—”
“Watch your mouth, young lady!”
“Well, you watch yours! I didn’t steal any clothes!”
“Then give me the receipts.”
“I’ll show you!” She dug down in her purse, muttering curses under her breath. But she couldn’t find them! She thought back to when she’d dumped out her purse looking for the iPhone the other day. She kept searching, growing more frantic by the second, but both of them was gone. They must have fallen on the cafeteria floor.
“The receipts, Arielle,” Chad ordered, ice in his voice.
“I can’t find them!” she had to admit. “But I paid for everything I have on! I swear I did.”
“With what money?”
Arielle hesitated.
“With what money?” he asked again.
“I charged it,” she whispered finally.
“You what?” he thundered.
“Since I shop there so much, they gave me an instant credit card,” she hurried to explain.
“In whose name is the card?” asked Chad. “You’re a minor.”
“Mine,” she said. She backed a step away from him.
“And whose credit history did they use to allow the privilege of charging at their store?” His voice cut like razors.
“Uh, yours.” Arielle lowered her gaze.
“And at whose home will the bill arrive?”
“Yours.”
“How do you plan to pay when the bill comes?”
“I’ll pay it when I get my allowance again.”
“You mean if you get your allowance back.”
“What?” Arielle yelped.
“I can’t have irresponsible women spending my money recklessly—do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Arielle felt her confidence ebbing quickly.
“First of all, that charge account will be canceled. You haven’t got the sense of a goose. You can’t possibly handle credit and finances.”
“But I—”
He continued as if she had not spoken. “Secondly, you will pay me back the amount charged for those clothes, plus the interest. I will pay it, clear my credit, and deduct the amount from your allowance after the expense for the carpet. It should only add a week or so to your payback plan. You’ll survive.”
“Can I go now?” Arielle asked. She didn’t think she could share one more breath of air with Chadwick Kensington O’Neil.
“No. I’m not finished. It seems a punishment is in order,” Chad said quietly.
“For what?”
“You’ve stolen my good name and good credit. You’ve deceived me. You failed to keep a record of your own purchases. Haven’t I taught you anything?” He sighed with disgust.
Arielle looked up. “What are you going to do?” she whispered.
“You must learn order and responsibility, Arielle. I’m trying to teach your mother the same thing.”
“What else can you do to me?” she asked.
“I’m suspending the use of your iPhone for two weeks. Hand it over!” He held out his hand.
“But you gave it to me for my birthday!” Arielle desperately tried to think of a way to get out of this.
“I am aware of that. It was mine to give and mine to take back. Now give me the cell phone.”
“Please, not my iPhone,” Arielle pleaded. “I really like it, Chad.” She wrung her hands; her palms felt moist and clammy.
“That’s why I’m taking it. Give it to me.”
“Please?” Arielle fought back tears.
“It’s only for two weeks. By then you’ll have learned your lesson. Now give it here!” He snapped his fingers.
Arielle gritted her teeth. “I can’t,” she said, bursting into sobs.
“And why not?”
“It…it…it got stolen two days ago.”
“Stolen?” he roared. “What do you mean, it got stolen?” He stood up, nostrils flaring.
Arielle stepped backward again, cringing. “Some kid from school went into my backpack and took it. When I went to look for it at lunch, it was gone.”
“How could you be so careless!” he shouted. “I was right! You’re an irresponsible ninny!”
“How was I supposed to know?” Arielle yelled back.
“You were supposed to keep up with your property! If you had valued it, you would have kept an eye on it.”
“I loved it, Chad. You know that,” she pleaded. “I never even left it on my desk at school. I hid it at the bottom of my bag.”
“Obviously not safely enough! And you had no business taking it to school anyway! Isn’t there a rule against cell phones at that school?”
Arielle closed her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Rules are in place for a reason, young lady! But you seem to think rules don’t apply to you. You are in for a rude awakening when you realize the world does not revolve around Arielle Gresham!” Chad’s face was red with anger.
“Yes, sir.”
“You can bet I will never buy you anything else as long as I live!”
“I understand. I’m so sorry.” She wiped her tears with the sleeve of the yellow sweater.
“Did you call the police?” Chad asked.
“No, but I reported it to the principal. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do,” Arielle told him. “I’ll pay you back, Chad. I promise.”
“Yes, you will. Every cent I spent on that thing, you are going to reimburse me for—with interest.” He paused for a moment, then added, “And your allowance? Forget about it. If you need spending money, you can work for it. I should have known better.” He glanced at a picture of her mother on the mantel above the fireplace.
“Yes, sir. Can I go now? I really have to go to the bathroom.”
He nodded, frowning still.
She scurried upstairs, sat on the toilet, and cried and cried and cried.
KOFI
CHAPTER 13
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11
KOFI GLANCED OUT THE WINDOWS OF Mrs. Witherspoon’s class and wished he were at home, in bed, snuggled under something like a hundred blankets. Maybe with Dana.
Fat, lazy snowflakes fell, covering the already snowy ground. It would be cold and wet on the way home tonight.
Shortly after class began, Eddie called out in his gravelly voice, “May I be excused, please?”
“Please remember to take care of bodily functions before my class, Mr. Mahoney,” Mrs. Witherspoon said, giving him the hall pass. “If I can run to the bathroom in the five minutes they give us between classes, you can too.” The class giggled, but Eddie only narrowed his eyes as he left, pausing only at Dana’s desk to give her a long look.
Kofi could feel Dana tense up, in the same way some people reacted to a snake—with great fear and the need to put distance between themselves and the reptile.
“I wish I could get my classes changed,” Dana whispered to him.
“He’s the one who needs to leave—not us,” Kofi fumed.
Mrs. Witherspoon drew their attention back to the lesson. “Well, group,” she said cheerily, “let’s continue with the life of our hero Beowulf. Is he a hero because he’s big and tough, or because he kills monsters?”
“Maybe both,” Jericho replied thoughtfully.
“So what makes a person a hero?” asked the teacher.
“He saves the world,” Susan suggested.
r /> “What if he just saves a kid from drowning?” Arielle wondered.
“He’s gotta be strong,” Kofi added.
“Who says it’s gotta be a dude?” asked Dana.
“Women back then just served the wine, and then they served the men,” Cleveland said with a laugh, “like they’re s’posed to do!” Dana threw a notebook at him, but he ducked.
“Can’t a woman be a hero?” Dana asked again.
“Heroine,” November corrected.
“Changing the name makes her sound weaker,” Dana argued. “I think if a lady saves a baby from a burning house, she ought to be called a hero, not a wussy-sounding heroine.”
“Good point,” Mrs. Witherspoon said, encouraging the students to talk. “But do you have to save somebody to be a hero?”
“Maybe you have to kill somebody, like Beowulf did,” Cleveland said.
“Killers aren’t heroes, stupid,” said November.
“Beowulf was,” Roscoe insisted.
“But he killed monsters like Grendel!” Eric added.
“Grendel’s mother musta loved him an awful lot,” Roscoe answered. “After Beowulf killed her son, she came back and kicked butt! So maybe monsters have feelings too.”
Then Osrick, who rarely spoke up, raised his hand.
A couple of kids giggled. Mrs. Witherspoon silenced them with a dagger look.
“Yes, Osrick,” she said with an encouraging smile.
“Grendel’s mom just wanted revenge,” Osrick said in his soft voice. “The people who listened to this story would have understood that.” Osrick bowed his head then, as if he were embarrassed. “Sometimes people just have to get even for bad stuff,” he added even more softly.
“Great observation!” Mrs. Witherspoon noted.
“Which proves my point that women are strong,” Dana insisted.
“But she was uggg-leee!” Cleveland replied. “Green and slimy.”
“Sounds like your prom date,” Jericho teased.
“Enough, enough,” Mrs. Witherspoon said. “Let’s read that line about how big and bad Beowulf was.” She began, without the crown and cape this time:
That shepherd of evil, guardian of crime,
Knew at once that nowhere on earth
Had he met a man whose hands were harder;
His mind was flooded with fear…..
In the darkness, the horrible shrieks of pain
And defeat, the tears torn out of Grendel’s
Taut throat,…caught in the arms
Of him who of all the men on earth
Was the strongest.
“Now is that a hero or what?” Spoon asked the class triumphantly. “I might want to marry this guy!”
“He couldn’t handle you, Spoon!” Roscoe teased. The class laughed.
Jericho raised his hand. “Yeah, but at the end Beowulf died! What good was all that hero stuff if he gets killed anyway?” The look in Jericho’s eyes was intense. Kofi figured he must be thinking about his cousin Josh.
Mrs. Witherspoon paused and looked thoughtful. “Even heroes die, Jericho,” she said sadly.
“Maybe a dude’s gotta kick it before he can be called a hero,” Cleveland suggested.
“Or maybe it just makes the story better,” said Rosa.
“Lots of stories end when the hero marries the girl and they live happily ever after,” Olivia said, shooting a glance at Jericho.
“Aw, people think that stuff is real, but it’s only in fairy tales,” Cleveland scoffed. “That’s why there’s so many divorces.” He got more than a few approving nods.
“Trust me. ‘Happily ever after’ is not what it’s cracked up to be,” Arielle said with a frown. “Sometimes the good-looking hero turns out to be the beast.”
“Could the beast be the hero?” Spoon asked.
“Not in my house,” said Arielle quietly.
Mrs. Witherspoon looked at her strangely. “Let’s have a little talk one day soon, Arielle, all right?”
“Okay,” Arielle replied, but she didn’t look up.
Spoon then asked, “Does the monster get to have feelings and desires and live a nice, long life gobbling people up?”
Susan raised her hand. Everything about her was graceful, Kofi noticed, even her arm movements. “I don’t think so,” she said clearly. “Bad guys need to be punished.”
The teacher nodded with approval. “Let’s take a look at the section where the dragon takes a bite out of crime, a.k.a. Beowulf.” She read:
Then the monster charged again, vomiting
Fire, wild with pain, rushed out
Fierce and dreadful, its fear forgotten.
Watching for its chance it drove its tusks
Into Beowulf’s neck; he staggered, the blood
Came flooding forth, fell like rain.
The class, stunned into silence, said nothing for a second. Then another fire alarm shattered the mood and power of that moment. Everyone jumped, including the teacher.
“I’ve had about enough of these interruptions!” Mrs. Witherspoon cried out in frustration as she gathered her grade book, her coat, and her purse. “How am I supposed to teach? We may as well hold class out in the snow! Let’s go, pups. Out the door, down the hall, and outside. Don’t forget your coats.”
“You think it’s another false alarm?” Dana asked Kofi as they hurried out, holding hands.
“Probably.”
“What does Crazy Jack have this bell?” she wondered.
“Math, I bet,” Kofi replied, remembering what Jack had told him earlier.
Roscoe trotted up to them. “Hey, didn’t Jack have a French test today?” he asked.
“Aw, man! Every time that dude has a test he can’t pass, he pulls the alarm. What’s up with that?” Cleveland complained.
“Do you think the teachers know?” asked November.
“Probably not. And ain’t nobody gonna narc on Crazy Jack. He’s just silly.” Cleveland buttoned up his coat.
“What about Eddie? Could it be him?” Dana suggested.
“The fire drills started way before Eddie got back, but you never know. He might be messin’ with everybody’s minds.”
“Well, at least we’re on the first floor, and I can roll out by myself this time,” Eric said, relief in his voice.
“You can carry me if you want,” Jericho teased him.
“I’ll pass on that one, dude. But Olivia might want the job,” Eric said with a laugh.
“Hey, don’t be messin’ with Olivia the Superwoman,” she said as they got to the end of the hall. “You make me pull out my red cape and I’ll dust the floor with both of you!” They all laughed as they headed outside.
Thick snow fell on the students as they milled outside the building, stomping their feet and cursing the weather.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it was spring,” said Jericho, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“This sucks!” Cleveland grumbled. “It’s, like, the coldest day of the year.”
Kofi wondered if it was the cold that was making his head suddenly start pounding. Doesn’t matter—pain’s the same! he reasoned. He thrust his hands deep into his jeans pockets—partly for warmth, but mostly to locate the bottle of pills he’d hidden there. Just touching the container made him relax.
“Kofi. Dana. November. Jericho. Eric. Luis. Olivia. Susan. Osrick. You okay, sweetie?” she asked. Osrick nodded. Mrs. Witherspoon took attendance on a handheld Blackberry device, which was awkward through her gloved hands. “Rosa. Arielle. Brandon. Roscoe. Cleveland. Eddie.” She paused and looked around, concern and suspicion on her face. “Where’s Eddie?” she asked.
“Right behind you, Spoon,” Eddie said into her ear.
The teacher gave Eddie an uneasy look, but made no further comment.
Once again the classes waited for twenty minutes for the all-clear bell and finally went back into their classrooms, frosty and bitter.
Kofi’s head still throbbed. As they hurried down the hall, he popp
ed a pill into his mouth, chewing it dry and making sure Dana didn’t see him do it.
ARIELLE
CHAPTER 14
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11
“HAVE YOU SEEN IT?”
“Girl, that was too funny!”
“I almost peed my pants!”
“No, but I bet the little weirdo peed on the floor!”
“What you talking about?”
“Weird Osrick’s butt cheeks!”
“For real?”
“How do you know it’s him?”
“I’d know that hoodie anywhere.”
“Shut up!”
“Check out You Tube, man.”
“He’s got his pants down and you can see everything!”
“Everything?”
“Well, almost. Skinny little legs. Skinny little thighs. Skinny little butt!” The laughter was loud and raucous.
“I gotta see this!”
“Who filmed it?”
“I don’t know. But somebody is holding him down. You can only see their hands.”
“Poor little geek.”
“Ah, he probably liked it—he got to be the center of attention for a change.”
“Show it again! Show it again!”
Three girls huddled around an iPhone and laughed so loudly that the bus driver glanced back to see what they were up to. They passed the phone around to almost everyone on the bus, and everyone who watched the video seemed to think it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.
Arielle, who was riding the bus because the Mercedes was still in the shop, sat two seats behind them. She listened to the conversation helplessly. She knew that by the end of the day the video would have gone viral and there would be nothing she could do about it.
And she knew she should say something to defend the kid—she felt so sorry for him—but what could she say that would stop the video?
She hadn’t noticed Olivia, however, sitting near the front of the bus. When someone passed the phone to her, she looked at it briefly, then immediately tossed it back and stood up, outraged.
“No standing on the bus,” the driver said mechanically.
Olivia ignored him. “You think that video is funny?” she bellowed. Her eyes were narrowed slits and her nostrils flared. She looked like a bull about to charge.