Twisted Fate(47)

It had been a week since I’d been called down to the office and it felt kinda weird. Up until now there was only one day when I was almost not called down to the office. Fitzgerald did the announcements and then some dipshit Richards-wannabe got on and started calling names. It’s generally the usual suspects, with a few kids who you’ve never heard of thrown in. That day they got through the whole list without saying the word Tate. Everyone in homeroom looked at me and then Trombley, my homeroom teacher, came over and patted me on the back and everyone clapped. About a minute later Fitzgerald got on the speaker and said, almost like he got how funny it was: “And last but not least, Ms. Tate.”

But that was last year. School had only just started a month ago and for the first few weeks I’d had uninterrupted call-downs. You know how they go. “Don’t skate in the hall. Did you call Letorno a fat ass? Smoking on school grounds? Who did that graffiti out by the north entrance? Mr. Blah blah blah says you’ve got an attitude whatever.” But lately I guess they stopped watching every little thing I did, because the days went by and I didn’t have to visit with Richards or Mr. Fitz.

Anyway, this might sound weird but I missed seeing Richards, so I took myself to the office. She was wearing a pair of thick black-framed glasses and a black blouse with polka dots and a wide silver bracelet and her hair was up on her head in a bun with a pencil poked through it.

She smiled when I walked in. “What’s up, homegirl?”

“Just checking on you,” I said.

I’d been away from the office so long the jar of black licorice was gone and she actually had some candy that looked good on her desk—some kind of square gummy stuff covered with sugar. She held out the dish and offered me one and I popped it in my mouth.

Big mistake. “Oh my God, what is wrong with you?!” I said, wincing, and spit it into my hand. My whole mouth was burning. “What is that flavor? Cleaning solvent?”

She laughed and took two of the gross torture candies and started chewing them. “It’s crystallized ginger,” she said.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to eat it?”

She nodded and ate another one.

“Why can’t you just have a jar of M&M’s on your desk like a normal authority figure?”

“’Cause that stuff’ll kill you,” she said. “Sit down. What’s new? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

A lot was new of course. She had to know from reading the papers what had happened with Brian and Graham.

“My next-door neighbor is a hero, I guess.”

She nodded, still chewing on the ginger. “That’s what I’ve been hearing. Did you know he had taken those movies of Brian Phillips?”

I nodded and suddenly felt weird. Realized that maybe this was why I had come down to the office. I guess I wanted to talk about it.

She looked at me for what seemed like a really long time. Then she got up and shut her door.

“What’s up?” she said when she sat back down.

“I think it’s kinda effed-up,” I said.

Richards nodded. “Me too.”

“He wasn’t going to tell the police about it at all, but we all convinced him to do it. If four other people hadn’t been nagging him, he never would have gone to the police in the first place. And he was scared to do it.”

“Why was he scared?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know. And I don’t know why we saved his ass instead of telling them we thought something weird was going on. He’s made a lot of films of people.”

“Has he made one of you?” she asked.

“Not me,” I said. “Unless he’s done it without me knowing.”

I swallowed hard and continued. “And now this hero stuff. I mean, it’s so frustrating. Maybe he’s a hero somehow, but I guess I just don’t know if what I’m thinking is right or if I’ve made him some kind of monster in my head. Nobody wants to believe someone like him would do anything bad intentionally.”

“What do you really think?”

“I think he’s a creep. No one else does, but I do, I think there’s something weird there. But every time I talk to him he’s nicer and cooler to me and I guess we’re becoming friends. God, I don’t know what to do.”

She said, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Tate. And I think you do know what to do. The main thing is you need to protect yourself. If you think he’s made any movies of you or anyone else, you should go to the police.”

I nodded. “I’ll think about it,” I said. “Hey, can you write me a pass? I’m going to be late for chemistry after all this gabbing.”

She got out her pink pad and wrote me an excuse. “Don’t be a stranger,” she said, “and don’t start getting in trouble just to come hang out here. You don’t have to do that. You can come talk to me any time you want.”

“I know,” I said. Then I took a few of those gross ginger candies so I could give them to the kid I got stuck with for a lab partner. I’d tell him they were apple-flavored.





My family was so happy when Brian Phillips was found. We all were, the whole town. So relieved. My parents gave his mom a raise and started paying for her family’s health insurance. I didn’t know they had no health insurance, but as my mom said, they would sure need it now.