Made You Up(82)

We followed him out of the natatorium. As we passed the main gym, I heard voices and glanced inside, but only McCoy was there. He paced below the scoreboard, talking aloud like he was gearing up for a big speech. No Celia, no Celia’s mother. Fear spiked through me that he was so close, that the only thing separating him from Miles was a closed door.

Then the fear was gone again, and McCoy was just a lonely man in a lonely room, talking to himself.

“What’s wrong?” Miles asked.

Even if I told him, I wasn’t sure he’d understand.

“Nothing,” I said.





Will he be okay?

Outlook not so good



Can I do something to make him okay?

Very doubtful





. . . can I do anything?





Don’t count on it





Chapter Forty-three




I saw what Miles had meant when he’d said people would start paying him to do ridiculous things. In chemistry, someone gave him thirty dollars to call Ms. Dalton a Coke-sucking whore in German, which of course she didn’t understand. He got twenty dollars to put tape on the bridge of his glasses, wear too-short pants, and don argyle socks for three days. Cliff, the *, paid Miles fifty dollars to be able to deck him in the jaw, and one punch turned into several punches and a kick to the gut. The triplets speculated that Cliff had been aiming for the genitals, but Miles’s incessant stare had thrown him radically off target.

Every day he threw away another piece of his pride and dignity for a few dollars, but I couldn’t stop him.

I don’t think anyone could have.





Chapter Forty-four




“RIDGEMONT.” Mr. Gunthrie slapped his newspaper down on his desk.

“Yessir?”

“I AM TIRED OF THAT DAMN LIGHT FLICKERING.”

The light over my desk flickered as he said it, mocking him.

“Do you want me to do something about it, sir?” I asked. I could hardly keep my eyes open. My dreams had been less than restful lately.

“I DAMN SURE DO. THE MAINTENANCE MEN HAVE REPLACED THE LIGHT THREE TIMES. GET UP THERE AND TELL ME WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.”

I wasn’t about to ask him why he didn’t just ask the maintenance guys to check. While the rest of the class turned back to their work, I climbed onto my desk and lifted away the ceiling tile next to the light. Putting my hands on either side of the opening and standing on tiptoes, I looked up into the darkness.

“Something’s gnawed on the wiring.” I squinted into the dim space, trying to focus on the frayed wire. It hadn’t just been gnawed on—it had been completely ripped in two.

Something near my head hissed.

I turned and saw the python there, its tongue flicking out at me. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t have time for this. Damn delusions needed to leave me the hell alone.

I ducked my head back down but kept my hands up for balance. Something touched my arm, but I ignored it. “Hey, Miles, you wanna give me a boost? I think there are mice or something up here. I might be able to see it better.”

Miles turned, rose halfway out of his seat, and looked up at me.

The snake hissed again.

I looked at the snake. I looked at Miles.

The snake. Miles.

The snake.

Miles.

“Alex.” He held up a hand. “Don’t. Move.”

Several kids screamed; desks shifted and scraped against the floor as they jumped up and ran from the room. Mr. Gunthrie shot out of his seat, cursing loudly and yelling about snakes and Vietnam.

The python coiled down my arm, passed behind my head, and wrapped over my left shoulder and across my chest. It looped itself once around my waist, then down my left leg. Its body spilled out of the ceiling like scaly water, lighter than it looked.

“Holy shit.” Miles stood fully now. “Holy shit, Alex, it’s the snake.”

“You can see it?” I hissed the words out through my teeth.

“Yeah, I can see it.”

“What do I do?”

“Uh—let me think—” He pressed his palms to his forehead and spoke rapidly. “They can live over twenty years—feed on large rodents or other mammals—average about twelve feet but can reach nineteen—” He groaned loudly and spoke even faster. “Trinomial name is python molorus bivittatus, can be domesticated, nonvenomous, can kill a child when they’re young and crush a full-grown man when they’re older—”