The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(76)

What would Alicia do?

Or, rather: What did Alicia do?

Leif tried to picture her here, her first day. He was sure she’d handled herself like she always did in difficult situations, with that natural poise. She’d probably seemed brave regardless of how she felt. She’d probably even summoned the nerve to talk back to the helper.

And then Whitewood had killed her.

Leif shuddered, for the first time fully acknowledging that truth.

And now the same man was featured in a huge portrait in front of him, as if murdering Leif’s best friend was a virtue to aspire to. Leif felt himself shaking. He assumed it was more of the involuntary sobs that had been erupting from him for hours, but then he realized it was something else.

He was shaking with anger.

Anger that this righteous organ-playing psychopath had taken from Leif one of the people he loved most in this world. Had forced his mother to turn on him. Had even driven a wedge between him and Rex.

It wasn’t okay.

Leif knew in his gut what Alicia would do.

She would run toward her anger, not away from it.

Embracing his rage, he felt it transforming into courage.

He was speaking before he had time to second-guess it.

“Hey, teach,” he said. “I was wondering: Are you part of Whitewood’s cult that sacrifices students or is that, like, a separate department?”

The blood drained from the helper’s face as she stared at Leif in shock.

“You just earned yourself a trip to the Roll,” she said.

The students were shocked again, but this time it seemed genuine.



* * *



—

AS HE LAY on the floor of Thinking Shed Number Two wrapped up in a cheap carpet like an enchilada, Leif considered his options.

Following his rude introduction to the Roll, during which he’d believed that his head might legitimately twist off his body like a mistreated G.I. Joe figure, he questioned if open rebellion was worth it. What exactly did his smart-ass outburst accomplish other than giving him a chance to marinate in his own pee?

Sure, it had felt amazing to go against his passive instincts. It was intoxicating to swim out into the spring when Rex was frozen in fear, and calling out the helper in class was electrifying, like he’d tapped in to some suppressed inner rebel. But where had that gotten him? Right here in this moldy room, struggling to breathe.

Yeah, it was probably best to just hunker down and wait.

Save the boat-rocking for someone else.



* * *



—

LEIF SHUFFLED THROUGH the cafeteria with his tray of mush—which, after going so long without food, actually looked appetizing—and sat down by himself for lunch. The relief he experienced once he was let out of the Roll had confirmed his earlier decision to simply do as he was told. It wouldn’t be hard. There was only one rule around this place: Follow. He was sort of an expert at it.

As he was convincing himself that he legitimately liked the flavor of the lukewarm paste that matched the color of the walls, he was startled by someone knocking into him, dropping her entire bowl of mush into his lap.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” a girl about Leif’s age with dark hair and thick eyebrows said as she bent over to pick up her bowl and tray.

“What’s going on over there?” a young helper with sideburns that reminded Leif of Jason Priestley said as he rushed toward them.

“I tripped,” the girl said. “I’m so sorry, it was an accident. I’ll clean it up.”

“It’s okay,” Leif said, as he wiped the mess off his legs and onto the floor.

“It’s not okay!” the helper said, two more helpers hovering behind him in case backup was needed. “There’s no talking during mealtime!”

The girl began to stand up, but as her face passed by Leif’s ear, she whispered, “Shoe.”

“Come on, let’s go, Candidatus,” the helper said, practically pushing the girl along. “Headmaster doesn’t appreciate clumsiness. Sit by yourself over there. And I hope you aren’t expecting a replacement meal.”

“Of course not, Helper,” the girl said, sitting down all the way across the room.

“Quiet!”

Leif kept his head down as he wiped the remaining glop from his legs, confounded by the entire incident. What had she even tripped on?

As he went to wipe some flecks off his beige Keds, Leif noticed a small piece of paper sticking out of the left one.

Shoe.

Leif’s heart beat faster as, after a quick glance in both directions to make sure no helpers were nearby, he slid the paper out of his sneaker.

He hid it in his fist and rose to the table before bending back down, pretending to notice one last bit of the girl’s lunch on his jumpsuit.

He unfolded the paper with shaking fingers. It was a note in purple ink on a piece of stationery with a unicorn on the top.

Alicia was my friend, the note said.

So you are too.

Keep fighting.

J



* * *



—

LEIF WAS AMAZED at the power ten words could have.

They proved to him that Alicia had made a mark on this place. In her short time here, she’d inspired J. And who knew who else.

As Leif walked to the Leisure Room that afternoon, he reached into his jumpsuit pocket and rubbed J’s note between his fingers. He was overcome with a deep shame for giving up so easily, for so quickly retreating to his tendency to defer.