Author's note: On the legal front, I don't really know what I'm talking about when we get to the real nitty-gritty. I'm not all that familiar with English statute law and only have a rough idea of the common law, so procedures and arguments may be wrong beyond all help. However, this was the best I could do, and I hope that the courtroom drama doesn't seem too far-fetched at any rate.
Additional disclaimer: One line of dialogue was directly taken from Buffy.
Part 1
Teaser
Rawley Boys� Academy
It was the first weekend since Fall Semester started, and most Rawley kids were hanging around campus, enjoying the late-summer sunshine while it lasted.
This was not the case for Hamilton Fleming, who came around a bend in the hall. He clutched a solid black guitar case possessively to his chest, and walked up the dormitory stairs as though it was lined with landmines. Finally, after tiptoeing into a dorm room that evidently was in the middle of some very messy refurbishment, he laid the case down on one of the beds, and breathed a sigh of relief.
�She thanks you for your diligent care,� Josh Sutherland said with a smile and a wink, stepping through the door, "I'm ashamed to say I never gave her that much love." He was holding a large cardboard carton, which he set down carefully by the dresser.
Hamilton furrowed his brows, �Your guitar is a she?�
�All guitars are girls,� Josh explained, quite seriously.
�And this one happens to be called D�Arcy,� supplied Faye Archer cheerfully, coming in the door with yet another box. Behind her, Scout Calhoun and Will Krudski staggered in, struggling to hold up between them a maple writing desk. Josh quickly moved to accommodate the guys, �Over here, thanks.�
The table was set down with a dull clunk. Will massaged his sore biceps, thought fondly of Colin Firth, and grinned at Josh, �Darcy, as in Mr. Darcy?�
�No, as in D�Arcy Wretzky,� Josh corrected him, and got a puzzled expression in reply. He smiled, �You know, ex-bassist? Smashing Pumpkins?�
�Oh yeah, she was the one with the devil�s horns,� Hamilton suddenly recalled images of the blonde musician onstage. Josh nodded.
�You�ve completely lost me,� announced Scout, walking back out. Faye, who was leaning against the doorframe, shied away a little as he passed. Scout glanced quickly at her, but spoke instead to the whole group: �C�mon, we better get moving. There�s still half of Josh�s furniture to go.�
The group sighed, resignedly, and filed out into the hall. �Hey,� Josh said, �thanks for helping us with the moving.�
�Yeah,� Will chimed in, �we really appreciate it.�
Faye cast a glance over her shoulder as she exited the room. �I wish Ryder was here to clean up some of his mess, this place is like a war zone. I don�t even know where we�re going to put the rest of Josh�s stuff. Where is he, by the way?�
Will shrugged, �Haven�t seen him since I got up this morning. And,� he added happily, �I won�t have to ever again. I mean, see him first thing in the mornings.�
�I still can�t believe you volunteered to room with Ryder,� Hamilton gave Josh a small, friendly shove, �talk about gluttony for punishment.�
�I�m a glutton,� Josh agreed cheerfully as the group trooped back downstairs.
***
Joe Paterson�s underground casino
The basement that Joe Paterson ran as New Rawley�s underground casino was, at this present moment, not a very comfortable place to be in. The flickering light bulb over the card table looked dangerously close to failing altogether, and the air in the windowless room was ripe with the distinct sweaty smell of nervous teenage boys.
Ryder Forrest lit up another cigarette, inhaled, and eyed the pile of chips on the table. The game was five-card stud, and at the present juncture, only two players were left. The two being Joe Paterson, and himself, of course.
He slowly exhaled, relishing the familiar tang on the tip of his tongue. The other players - Joe, and those who�d already folded - looked at him expectantly. He nodded at the skinny guy who served as dealer that day, who dealt him another card face-up. It was a Three of Clubs.
Lying in front of Ryder were now five cards. Four of them were facing up for all to see: a Three of Hearts, a Seven of Clubs, a Seven of Diamonds, and a Three of Clubs.
�Looks like two pair,� Joe said amicably. He snubbed out the remains of his clove cigarette on the table and nodded at the dealer. The boy handed him a Ten of Spades.
A low murmur rose from the other boys. Joe glanced down at his cards, and smiled crookedly, �looks like straight flush.�
If Ryder didn�t have his blank-slate poker face on, he would have narrowed his eyes at this point. Nevertheless something in his gaze hardened, a tide of grey in his irises sweeping out the blue hue.
Joe now had lined up in front of him five cards. Apart from the one still lying face-down, the others were respectively the Eight of Spades, the Nine of Spades, the newly-gotten Ten of Spades, and the Jack� of Spades.
�You�re trying to bluff me,� Ryder finally said, taking another puff on the cigarette.
�Believe what you want.� Joe shrugged, �But on the face of it I�ve got the sweeter deal, so�� he eyed the snack plate, picked up a stuffed olive on a toothpick, ate it and kept talking with his mouth full, �I guess I get to up the ante this time.�
�You wouldn�t dare,� Ryder said coolly, staring hard at the sole face-down card on Joe�s side.
�That�s where you�re wrong,� Joe said simply, pushing all his chips onto the table in one fell swoop. �That�s about� what? Five thousand dollars? Show-all.�
A collective intake of breath emitted from the spectators. Five thousand dollars. That was definitely the most that anyone had played for here, as far as memory could recall.
Ryder appeared to consider the option. He tilted his head, his gaze flickering alternately between Joe�s and his own cards.
He knew that his own face-down card was a Seven of Spades, which meant that he had a Full House. More importantly, it meant that Joe�s face-down card needed to be a Queen of Spades, to pull off the straight flush he seemed so confident of. Ryder knew that neither the Seven nor the Queen of Spades had come up in the others� play.
It was a risk� not a very probable one, but a risk nevertheless.
And as everyone who knew him would testify, Gregor Ryder Forrest did not take risks.
But Ryder simply smiled and spread his hands, �I don�t have five thousand in chips� or in cash, for that matter.�
�So write an IOU,� Joe was undaunted; �we know you�re good with your debts.�
�Fine,� Ryder said coolly. Joe looked slightly taken aback at that reaction, but he slid a notepad across the table without a word.
Pulling his 24K gold fountain pen out of his pocket, Ryder dashed off an IOU note for five thousand dollars, signed it, and showed it to the others.
�Let me see that,� Joe said, and Ryder thought he detected a note of nervousness creeping into the other boy�s voice. The ghost of a smile dashed past as lips, and as fast as it emerged it was gone again. He watched Joe scrutinise the note carefully, and finding nothing wrong with it, handed it back. The blond Briton tossed it casually on top of the pile of chips on the table. And as he drew his hand back, the hint of a smile in his eyes deepened.
For he could feel, waxy and cool against the skin of his forearm, carefully concealed under his shirtsleeve, the reassuring weight of a playing card. Not just any card. The card. The Queen of Spades. From this particular deck.
As everyone who knew him would testify, Gregor Ryder Forrest did not take risks. He�d been playing poker since he was nine years old, across two continents, and it had been a while indeed that he�d lost. Even when he did lose, it was usually for strategic purposes only. He knew all the tricks in the book� or, to be more precise, he had a lot of tricks up his sleeve, both figuratively and� well, literally.
�Show me your hand,� he said, folding his arms and relishing the feel of the Queen of Spades � a calming presence, a win set in stone � resting against his skin.
"No, you first." There was a glint in Joe's eye that Ryder couldn't quite figure out. A different sort of fear, perhaps... the stakes were pretty high this time round.
Ryder actually had to fight to keep the smug grin off his face. "Okay," he said without further elaboration, turning over his Seven of Spades and tossing it down for all to see, "Full House."
All eyes turned and settled on Joe, whose face was blank. "Impressive," he said flatly, reaching for his hidden card, "very impressive indeed."
With unnatural grace, he flipped his last card over.
Ryder felt his blood turn to ice.
Queen of Spades.
"Straight Flush," Joe announced triumphantly.
"That's impossible!" Ryder hissed, standing up so fast that he nearly knocked his chair over, "You sneaked another pack in! You cheated!"
"It's improbable, not impossible." Joe corrected him, the glint in his eyes suddenly flaring into something more tangible, a look harder and shrewder than what Ryder had thought him capable of. "And if you're gonna accuse me of cheating... well, why don't we all grab a beer, sit us down, roll up our sleeves, and have a nice long talk about it?"
The realisation crossed Ryder's mind like a streak of lightning. Suddenly that strange look in Joe's eyes made perfect sense to him, and he couldn't understand how it could have been otherwise. Joe knew, all along. He knew about the tricks and the cheating and, more importantly, how Ryder pulled it off. He was simply biding his time until he dealt the deadliest blow he could muster.
"All right," Ryder said, falling back into his seat and trying not too look too stunned for the benefit of his public image, "but I don't have five grand in the bank at the moment."
"Well, you know the rule: three days before your stuff get pawned." Joe lit up another cigarette and leisurely collected all the chips, cash, and Ryder's IOU note from the table.
"Yeah, but it's five thousand dollars," Ryder argued wearily, "I just installed a new stereo in my car, I don't have the cash. Just cut me some slack, mate."
"No can do, mate," Joe mimicked, glancing up with a small sneer, "three days to get the money to me, or I guess it's bye bye new stereo, bye bye expensive toys."
Ryder stared at the other boy's grinning face, and thought that he would very much like to punch Joe in the nose. But he didn�t. He simply gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and forced himself to nod gravely.
Part 2
*opening credits and theme song*
Josh and Ryder's room
*Will�s voiceover starts*
�No man is an island, I�m sure we�ve all heard that saying before. But what exactly does it mean? Are things in life that simply can�t be accomplished unless you have other people there to help you? Even if you are the strongest, most competent person in the world? It seems strange to me that this should be so. Grown-ups are always telling us that we can do whatever we put our mind to, but if this phrase is right, if no one really is an island, then maybe we can only do so much on our own.�
Josh was sitting on his bed, cradling an acoustic guitar, staring out the window at the starry night sky and trying to write a song about moving. The only word he could think of that rhymed with 'moving' was 'grooving', and he really didn't want to write a song that equated Ryder (or himself) with 'grooving' of any kind, so he quickly gave up and climbed under the covers. That was when the door opened and Ryder dragged himself into the room.
"Hey," Josh said, a little apprehensively.
Ryder stared, wide-eyed, at the sight of Josh in bed. In his room. This went on for quite some time before he realised that today was moving day and Josh was now officially his roommate for the rest of the year. The situation clearly needed a lot of deliberation, which he was in no shape for. "Hey," he said unenthusiastically, kicking off his shoes and flopping onto the bed, fully dressed. He closed his eyes and emitted a world-weary sigh.
"Um... are you okay?" asked Josh, frowning, "maybe this rooming together thing isn't a good idea..."
Ryder opened his eyes a crack. "It's not you," he said simply, rolled over, and tried to fall asleep.
***
Will and Malcolm's room
Will was having a little trouble. He didn't think that having a gay roommate was a big deal, until it was time to go to bed and he needed to put on his pyjamas. Although Malcolm Harding was just sitting on his bed reading, Will still didn't feel all that comfortable getting changed right in the middle of their room, like he'd done when he shared with Scout... or even Ryder. It felt just like getting changed in front of a girl, which was an entirely irrational feeling to have, but still...
"You're being stupid," he told himself, but ended up changing behind his closet door anyway. Once safely in his t-shirt and boxers, he dove under the bedcovers and finally felt safe enough to speak up, "Hey, Malcolm..."
"You don't have be embarrassed around me, you know," the other boy smiled without looking up from his book.
Will blushed to the roots of his strawberry-blond hair. "I'm not," he lied, quickly changing the subject, "I just wanted to say, thanks for agreeing to the swap. I know it wasn't exactly in your best interests."
Malcolm set his book down, and glanced at Will thoughtfully.
"I mean," Will shrugged uncomfortably, "it seemed like you didn't really want to give up rooming with Josh."
"It's okay," Malcolm smiled, "we do what we think is best for the situation. And I'm glad you got out of rooming with Ryder."
"Well, I thank god for that every day," Will chuckled.
"Yeah..." Malcolm's voice was starting to trail off, "though I'm not sure if this is a good move for Josh� in the long run..."
"What do you mean?" Will asked curiously.
Malcolm smiled again, and it struck Will how strange it was that this boy who smiled all the time could nevertheless look so unhappy, "I'm not sure... I don't want to speculate. But sometimes... the way
Josh looks at Ryder..." he lowered his head, "he doesn't think I notice, but I do."
"What are you saying?" asked Will, completely baffled.
Malcolm looked up, as though snapping out of a dream, and smiled yet again. "Nothing," he said, "nothing�"
***
Edmund High
Bella Banks bounded up the steps leading to the local high school, and entered the hallways of the worn-down brick building. She'd gotten to school a little early this morning, and the hall was pretty much deserted. She quickly found her way to the sports noticeboards, and ran her finger down one particular printout that was tacked up. It announced the new girls' basketball team line-up. Absently, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she scrutinised the list of names.
She broke into a grin when she located her own name halfway down the list. But as she turned to go, something else caught her eye: the sign-up sheet for the boy's soccer try-outs, on which Sean McGrail had written his name.
She smiled again and hoped that he wasn't too out of shape, since he didn't have as much time as usual during the summer to practice. While she was on a mini-vacation in Carson and her friends were happily attending Rawley's Summer Session, Sean had to slave his way through Edmund's decidedly more tedious summer course, in order to make up for his abysmally bad grades at the end of the last school year. But, she mused as she stepped away from the board, things all seemed to be falling into place now. Sean was back being your regular jock, and she was making a conscious effort to climb out of the rut she'd happily let herself sink into during these last few months.
Things were definitely looking up.
***
Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey, London
"Things don't look good," said Roberta Cooke, the Crown Prosecutor for The Queen v Macmillan.
It was early afternoon, London time. Jake Pratt and her mother, Monica Pratt, were in a private chamber close to the courtroom, and Ms. Cooke was bringing them up to speed with the developments since depositions a couple of weeks ago.
Jake stared at the lawyer, uncomprehending. Monica, on the other hand, demanded immediately, "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is," Roberta, a tall black woman with perfect BBC enunciation, said hesitantly, "I think he's got something up his sleeve. Aaron Tipping, I mean - the defence lawyer..."
"I know who Tipping is, thank you very much." Monica snapped, then immediately raised a hand to her mouth, "Forgive me, Ms. Cooke, I'm just..." she sighed, "it's just I thought this case was in the bag."
Roberta nodded sympathetically, not in the least offended. However, she still seemed deeply perturbed by what was going on. "He's not going to provide an alibi because we have witnesses who definitely place him in the bedroom at that time, but it looks like Tipping is going to try and squeeze Macmillan through the door of reasonable doubt."
"Reasonable doubt?" Jake finally burst out, "How can he do something like that?"
"I'm not entirely sure of what he has up his sleeve," Roberta admitted, "which is obviously where he wants us. But my guess will be that he'll try to bring this argument in two sections. Firstly, he�ll try to rid Macmillan of the drug charge. Jacqueline, I�ve got to tell you, we�re not optimistic at getting Macmillan for administering the Rohypnol. The truth is we have hardly any proof to charge him in the first place. It was true that the drug was in your bloodstream, and it must have been slipped into your drink sometime that evening, but we can�t prove Macmillan did it. The police found no traces of the drug on him or at his house. And no one has owned up to supplying him either.�
�I don�t care about that,� Jake said quickly, �I just want to get him on the rape attempt.�
�That�s the thing,� Roberta sighed, �If we can�t prove he spiked your drink, he could argue lack of intent. You�re over sixteen, which is above the age of consent in this country; so we�re really looking at an issue of consent.�
�I didn�t give him consent!� Jake cried.
�I know, Jacqueline,� Roberta explained patiently, �but it doesn�t mean that he knew that. If Tipping can make it sound like Macmillan thought there was consent, I�m afraid they might have a shot.�
�This is so fucked up,� muttered Jake.
�Jacqueline!� Monica exclaimed, looking a little scandalised.
�I�m sorry, mom,� Jake glanced at her mother, �but there�re no other words for it.�
After a pause, Monica sighed, �You�re right. It is fucked up.�
"The case law is against him," Roberta said quietly, "we've had people try to argue this before, and fail..."
"But that's how case law works, isn't it?" asked Monica, "the decision then comes into the body of law? The courts will have to refuse this time too."
"Sometimes," Roberta nodded, "but Tipping may be able to find a distinguishing mark between this case and that one. Look," she checked her watch, "I'm sorry I can't explain this further, but I'll have a clearer idea once we begin the hearing. Please come with me."
Jake nodded mutely and followed the woman out of the room, Monica following close behind. "This is it, I guess," said Jake, trying to smile at her mother.
Monica reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. Jake squeezed back.
***
Rawley Boys' Academy
Hamilton was walking down the hall to his next class, wondering what was happening with Jake in England at the present moment, when he heard the sounds of a scuffle inside the common room. Unable to resist his curiosity, he peeked around the doorway.
Three guys - freshmen, by the look of them - had cornered a small Asian kid, and one of them was holding him by the shoulders and pushing him against the wall. The kid struggled in a futile effort to escape, which only resulted in his glasses falling off.
"Not so smart now, are you?" the taller guy hissed, "Trust me, you don't want to piss us off."
"I'm smarter than you'll ever be, you moron," the kid retorted, his voice clipped.
"What, you think we're stupid?" one of the other guys growled, "I'm warnin' you, if you try to make fools out of us in class ever again..."
"No one's making a fool out of you," the kid actually had the audacity to roll his eyes, "I can't help that you're born with only half a brain."
"Okay, that does it," the third guy announced, rolling up his sleeves and advancing on the kid, "you think you're so tough, huh, Michael? Let's see how well you handle this."
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" That was Hamilton. He walked into the common room, trying consciously to copy his father's authoritative demeanour.
"Who the hell are you?" One of the guys clearly wasn't impressed, "Why don't you go mind your own business, huh?"
However, one of the other guys elbowed him. "It's the Dean's son," he said under his breath, "c'mon, let's go." Without another word he led the way out of the common room, and his friends reluctantly followed. Hamilton narrowed his eyes at them as they passed.
"We'll let you off the hook this time, runt," the last guy hissed in Michael's ear, and as he walked away he raised his voice, "But tell your friend to stop wearing those hippy clothes. This is high school, not some freaking commune."
Hamilton watched the guy walk out before he stared down at his clothes: jeans and a Third Eye Blind band T-shirt. He looked up, puzzled.
"He's not talking about you," Michael said, picking up his glasses and putting them back on. He brushed past Hamilton and headed for the door.
"Hey, are you all right?" Hamilton called after him. The kid either didn't hear or didn't think it was necessary to reply. He was gone in the blink of an eye.
Hamilton stared at the empty doorway and furrowed his brows. "Thanks for saving my butt, Hamilton," he said to himself, "it's no problem..."
***
"So it's set," Will asked Scout as they walked across the lawn, "you're working at the salon?"
"Yeah," Scout answered as they ascended the steps leading to the dining hall, "I have to go in to do the cleaning for about an hour a day."
"How's the pay?" asked Will, before he grinned and shook his head, "I forgot. It's not exactly important to those of us who only want to build character."
Scout laughed, "Still, it'd be nice to save up and buy something with my own money once in a while."
They were about to enter the dining hall when Scout halted, his attention caught by the student noticeboard, "Hey," he tugged on Will's sleeve, "take a look at this."
"Volunteers needed for Kidsline, a new service provided by Lifeline phone counselling." Will read, "We are now recruiting 'phone buddies', who can provide advice and comfort to troubled children and adolescents. The service is based in Carson, and a free training programme will be provided. Great on college applications!" He turned to Scout and grinned, "I know what you're thinking."
"Maybe Faye will sign up..." Scout wondered aloud, starting to rummage through his bag for a pen.
"I dunno," Will said carefully, "don't you think you should sign up because you want to sign up, not because you think Faye will be there?"
"It's something responsible and mature," Scout scribbled his name and details on the sign-up sheet, "I think I should do it. And if Faye just happens to be there?" He turned to Will with a smile, �Well, that's just an added bonus.�
Will shrugged and turned away, "If you think it's a good idea, go ahead. I'm gonna find us a table."
"I'll be right with you," Scout said, capping his pen and sticking it in his pocket. Just then, somebody jostled him from behind, and he toppled into the wall. "Hey!" he exclaimed, "Watch where you're going!"
"Sorry," a short Asian kid looked over his shoulder, not sounding all that sincere. The guy next to him didn't even look back. Scout straightened up and narrowed his eyes at them: the tall figure of the guy next to the kid looked familiar. In fact, wasn't that�
"Jake?" He exclaimed, but the couple was too far from him to hear. Who was the kid with Jake? Why didn't she turn around? He knitted his brows together: and was she wearing some sort of tie-dyed shirt?
He shook his head, decided that he must have been hallucinating due to a lack of food, and quickly entered the dining hall.
Part 3
Rawley Girls' Academy
"I need help."
That was the first thing out of Ryder's mouth when he met up with his sister. "So what else is new?" joked Faye as she closed her door and the two of them began to walk toward the stairs.
"Very funny," Ryder was in no mood for her little quips, "this is serious."
She raised her brows, "What's up?"
Ryder had an uncharacteristically sheepish look to him today, which was not surprising considering his next words were �I need five thousand dollars.�
She whirled around, "Five thousand? Why do you need... oh my god, don't tell me it's that poker guy in town."
"Yeah, don't rub my face in it," he said dispiritedly.
"But you never lose," she said.
"I said, don't rub my face in it," he lit up a cigarette as they walked out of the girls' dormitories, "just help me get five grand in three days."
"Three days? Jesus, Ryder!" She threw her hands in the air, exasperated, "Where am I supposed to get that sort of money? My credit cards are all maxed out, and you know I never have any cash on me."
�Well, I don't have the money,� he said sulkily, �and father doesn't top up my bank account until the end of the month.�
"Can you ask him for an advance?" she suggested.
He just looked at her. "Lest we forget, this is our father we're talking about."
"Or as mother likes to say, 'the dirty old bastard'," she recalled, "good point. I can't tell you how glad I am that he doesn't control my finances anymore."
"D'you think mum would lend me the money?" he asked hopefully, as they came to a stop in front of the dining hall.
It was her turn to stare at him. "She'll just chuck a fit and tell you to get it from the dirty old bastard. She'll never give a penny to you so long as you're still his son."
"Yeah, but I'm her son too!" he tossed his half-finished cigarette on the ground, flattening it with his shoe, "I swear, that woman..."
"... got done over by our father, and will not give you a penny until you get out of his custody," she continued for him, blithely, "like me."
"They've been divorced for four sodding years," he complained, grinding his sole into the remains of the cigarette, "and they're still at it."
"And they'll be at it for as long as they both shall live," she nodded wisely.
"Hey," he suddenly exclaimed, "why don't you try and get the money from her?"
"Then she'll ask me what exactly I plan to do with five thousand dollars all in one go," she answered, "and I can't very well say it's to pay off my darling brother's gambling debts. Face it, Ryder, parents can only be used as cash cows on a regulated basis - and that means they're not for emergencies." She shrugged and headed up the stairs, "I think we should ask Josh for help."
"No," he said emphatically, catching up to her, "Josh absolutely cannot know about this, all right? I'm very serious about this."
She raised an eyebrow, "Why?"
"I just..." he shook his head, "I don't want him involved. I don't want to trouble him with this crap. Just... don't tell him, all right? Let's just figure something out by ourselves."
"Okay," she shrugged as they stepped into the dining hall and spotted Josh, who had saved a couple of seats for them, "but you know you're sunk."
'Shh' was Ryder's only reply as they settled down at the table.
***
Central Criminal Court, London
�At the time of the party, how long have you known the victim?� The defence lawyer, Aaron
Tipping, asked Grant Macmillan, who was on the witness stand.
�Her mother, Monica Pratt, was my girlfriend at the time,� Grant said. He sat up very straight, and spoke only after a significant pause, as though he was going over little speeches in his mind. His gaze flickered nervously to Monica�s stern face in the crowd, �Jacqueline was visiting on her school break. We were introduced about two weeks before the New Year�s Eve party.�
�And how did she seem to you?� Tipping asked.
�She was a nice girl,� Grant cleared his throat, �she was friendly and we chatted a bit.�
�Did you think she was more friendly than a girlfriend�s daughter should have been?�
�Objection,� Roberta Cooke called from her seat, �leading.�
�I agree,� Justice Moodie said, �Counsellor, please rephrase.�
Tipping was unfazed, �Exactly how friendly was she, Mr Macmillan?�
�She smiled at me a lot,� Grant cleared his throat again, �and we spent some time chatting. Just small talk basically.�
�Did you have any reason to believe that she was sexually attracted to you?�
�On the night of the party, she was wearing�� Grant swallowed and looked down at his hands, �she was wearing a very provocative dress.�
�Did she exhibit any behaviour that suggested she was attracted to you in particular?�
Grant�s gaze darted to Jake, but she was looking at Tipping and their eyes did not meet. �She displayed an interest in me as the night wore on. She kept looking at me and smiling��
He was still talking, but Jake leaned over the bar and whispered in Roberta�s ear, furiously, �He�s lying! I did not display an interest in him! I was sleepy and disoriented, not some drunken slut!�
Roberta nodded and pressed a finger to her lips. Jake settled back, glared at Grant and wished that she could shoot daggers from her eyes.
***
Edmund High
Walking down the hall, Sean spied Bella standing in front of a noticeboard. "So," he sidled up with a grin, "I saw that you made the basketball team. Congratulations, by the way."
"Thanks," she glanced at him with a smile, "and I saw your name on the soccer tryouts sheet. So it's back to sports for you?�
"Yup," he replied cheerfully, "finally. The ban during the summer was the worst thing. Whatcha reading?"
"Oh," she pointed to a poster, "there's this phone counselling thing in Carson that's recruiting volunteers. I'm thinking of joining."
He quickly scanned the text, "they trust high school kids for this?"
"They give you training," Bella said, "and remember this is like a phone line for kids, so..."
"Still, I wouldn't want to be stuck giving advice to a bunch of teenagers," he said dubiously.
"Well, I'm going to sign up," she decided, pulling a pen out of her bag, "it�s such a nice thing to do. Plus, if I go to Carson regularly, I could catch up with my mom more often."
"Well, you can definitely count me out," he shook his head with a grin, "not my thing."
***
Central Criminal Court, London
�You didn�t answer my question, Ms. Pratt,� Aaron Tipping glanced at Jake, who was now in the witness stand. �Did you or did you not see my client put the Rohypnol in your drink?�
Jake bit her lip. �No.�
�Did you, in fact, see him put anything in your drink at any time during the evening?�
�No.�
�Then why do you think it was he who slipped the drug into your drink, when it could have, in fact, been anybody at all from the party?�
�Who else could it have been?� Jake asked, her voice a little louder than she�d intended. �No one else even knew me at that party, who would do that?�
�So you are saying,� Tipping had a little sneer at the corner of his lips, �that you arrived at this conclusion without any facts to support your claim.�
�Motion to strike that statement from the record,� Roberta called.
�So stricken,� Judge Moodie agreed, �you�ve made your point, Counsel; please move on.�
Tipping nodded, and paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. �Skipping ahead in the events that happened that evening� when did you find yourself alone with my client?�
�I wasn�t feeling well, because of the drugged drink,� Jake said slowly, �so my mom told me to go and rest in an upstairs bedroom. She said she�ll wake me up when she�s ready to leave.�
�When you woke up later that night,� Tipping watched her carefully, �was it your mother who had woken you?�
�No,� Jake said, her voice breaking a little, �I woke up when� when I felt somebody trying to unzip my dress��
�Who was it that was trying to unzip your dress?�
�Him,� Jake pointed at Grant. For the first time since the trial began, she looked straight into his eyes, and their gazes locked.
Strange to think that, before she stepped into this room, she was afraid to meet those dark, expressionless eyes. The same eyes that gazed down at her that night, not so very long ago, dazed with drink and with desire. She steeled herself and met those eyes, only to find� nothing. There was still no expression in those slate grey eyes, no triumph or regret, only a vague tiredness. We�re all tired of it, she thought to herself, so tired of this whole thing�
�Let the record show that the witness identified the defendant,� Tipping said. He turned back to Jake, �Would you say the defendant�s actions were sexual in nature?�
Jake had unconsciously grabbed a handful of the material of her skirt. The silk was growing damp with sweat as she clutched it, like some sort of security blanket. �Yes,� she whispered.
�Did you consent to these actions?�
She sat up a little straighter. �No.�
�I see,� Tipping said slowly. He moved one step closer to the witness stand and asked, �Do you think that, under the circumstances, the defendant knew that you didn�t consent to these actions?�
She chewed on the inside of her lip, �I think so.�
�You think so?� Tipping echoed.
�I think so� I don�t know,� she stammered, �he should�ve known.�
�I�m not asking you whether he should have known, I�m asking if you think he knew. Did your reactions to what he was doing suggest, or could they have suggested, that you did not consent?� Tipping stepped forward again, his eyes boring into hers, �What was your reaction when you woke up and realised that my client was unzipping your dress?�
�I couldn�t move!� She blurted out, blinking back tears that suddenly welled up as though from nowhere, �I tried to push him away and I tried to tell him to back off but I couldn�t speak� I couldn�t move my body��
�So,� Tipping appeared to consider this for a while, �if an objective bystander was watching, he might have thought that you did not make any attempt to indicate your lack of consent.�
�I did make an attempt!� Jake exclaimed, �I was trying! But I couldn�t move!�
�I understand that, Ms. Pratt,� Tipping said, his voice infuriatingly soothing. �But my question was, do you think objectively it may have seemed that you weren�t resisting my client�s advances?�
Jake glared at him.
�Please answer the question, Ms. Pratt,� Tipping�s voice was syrupy.
Jake�s hands tightened around the folds of her skirt. The tears and the urge to cry, thankfully, had gone just as soon as they had come. But something else replaced the hollow feeling inside her chest � something more potent, more dangerous � something that was not so much fear than anger.
�Your Honour,� Tipping spoke to the judge, �please instruct the witness to answer the question.�
"Please answer the question, Ms. Pratt,� Justice Moodie asked, gently.
Jake glanced up at the white-haired judge, who looked back at her with clear blue eyes. He nodded encouragingly, but she thought she could just make out a tinge of sadness in his gaze � a sympathetic gesture, a vague sense of all the events that happen in this world outside of human control. She didn�t know why she would think that now about a total stranger, but the look in his eyes comforted and saddened her at the same time.
�Do you think, objectively, it may have seemed that you were not resisting my client�s advances?� Tipping repeated the question word for word.
�I guess,� Jake said wearily, �I don�t know. I just don�t know.�
Tipping nodded and turned to the judge. �No more questions, Your Honour.�
***
Rawley Boys' Academy, common room
Hamilton had walked himself into a corner of the room, stretching the phone cord as far as it could go in an attempt for more privacy. "What do you mean, it�s complicated?" he hissed into the receiver, casting a glance over his shoulder. There were a couple of guys hanging out in the common room, watching TV. Despite their looking as though they couldn't care less about what he was doing or whom he was talking to, he still felt the need to inch a little more into the corner.
He didn't speak for several moments, listening to Jake's frantic voice crackling over the line, his brows furrowed. Finally, he let out a long breath, "Well, do you think he'll get away with it?"
"I don't know!" Jake was trying hard to keep her composure, "look, I just don't know anything... Roberta said it's a real borderline case."
"Yeah," he set his jaw, "but... I just don't get it, Jake. How is it possible that he'll get off? He did what he did, right? So what are they trying to say? That he didn't do it? That it wasn't criminal?"
"Look, I don't know..." there was a pause, and shuffling, muffled sounds came over the line. After a moment Jake quickly said, "Hamilton? I've got to go, I'll talk to you as soon as I have something definite, okay? I love you."
"Wait!" he said, a little louder than he'd intended, and the other guys in the room glanced curiously in his direction. But Jake had hung up. He stared at the receiver for a couple of moments before shaking his head and wearily replacing it on the stand.
He sat down on a couch and tried to work through the jumble of information that she'd relayed to him. It was nearly incomprehensible that something they all knew Grant to have done � something that wasn't even disputed in the Court � could nevertheless yield a result other than a guilty verdict. What good was the justice system at times like these? How could it call itself just?
It astounded him to think that there was even the possibility of Grant not getting what he deserved. He closed his eyes, screwed up his forehead, and fervently prayed to whatever benevolent force out there that Jake would win the case. She had to win. And even as he did that he hated that force, that god, whatever it was, for making him do this, for making him pray for something that should have been rightfully given by the law of the land.
It was with some relief that he heard shouting out in the corridor. That, at least, provided some distraction that he sorely needed. He sprang up, as did the other guys in the common room, and they poked their heads out the door to see what the commotion was all about.
To be honest, Hamilton wasn't too surprised to see that little Asian kid, Michael, again at the centre of the dispute. The two guys hassling him didn't seem to be the same ones, though. Hamilton sighed internally: looked like this kid had a lot of enemies.
It was no wonder, either, since he seemed to be shooting his mouth off, again. "Look, I can't help it if you can't even comprehend that the best action to conceal your idiocy is to keep your mouth shut at all opportunities. When you talk, you're open to ridicule, everyone knows that, that's why you shouldn't talk at all because when you do, someone�s gonna pick up on the fact that your IQ is..." He paused to take a breath, rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, then continued, "...say, what? 70? And they're not going to be very nice about it because you just interrupted a potentially intriguing and informative conversation by tossing in your two cents that was completely irrelevant and ignorant of all the facts�"
The way long sentences and convoluted words darted out of the kid's mouth reminded Hamilton of bullets ripping out of a machine gun. He was also in doubt of whether the other guys actually understood what the kid was saying. If what Michael said was true, Hamilton doubted that those guys had the brainpower to keep up with the speed at which those words came flying out.
However, that evidently wasn't really a hindrance to them. Those guys knew that their fists settled the job much better than their brains ever could. The one who held Michael by the shoulders shoved him roughly up against the corridor wall, and the other pulled back, looking ready to pounce.
"Hey, break it up, guys," Hamilton decided that he had enough, walking into the hallway, "you can't do this in school."
"Oh yeah? And waddaya gonna do about it?" One of the guys turned toward him and crossed his arms.
The other guy didn't look so sure - perhaps it was because the other two guys from the common room had also walked out and loitered casually around the door. "Let's go, Bob," he whispered quietly to the first bully, "we'll get him some other time."
Bob snorted and cast a glance at Michael, "Did you hear that, Chink? Don't think you're off the hook." He looked back towards the upperclassmen and offered a terribly insincere smile. "Gentlemen," he said politely - so politely as to be entirely sarcastic - and backed away.
Hamilton and the other guys watched as the bullies headed down the corridor. Meanwhile, Michael had dusted himself off and taken off in the other direction. He was almost out of the field of vision when the others noticed that he was gone. "Hey!" called Hamilton, "Kid!"
Michael turned around and narrowed his eyes at them, "I'm not a kid." He whirled around and began walking again.
The other guys glanced at each other, shrugged, and went back to the common room. Hamilton, however, was not to be deterred. "Hey," he called as he ran after the kid, "Wait."
"What is your problem?" Michael suddenly stopped and turned around once more, causing Hamilton to skid to a stop.
"What's my problem?" Hamilton repeated, widening his eyes.
"Yeah, what is your problem?" Michael echoed, narrowing his eyes, "Every time, you swoop in like some superhero ready to save the tiny Chinese kid from the big bad bullies. Yeah, we get it, you're the Dean's son, woohoo."
"I was just trying to help..." interrupted Hamilton.
Michael cut him off, "Right, you were trying to help. You were trying to fight off all the evil in this school with your miraculous superpower of 'I'm gonna tell my dad if you don't behave'. Do you have any idea what it's like, trying to get through the years in this nasty place with nothing but your brain to help you? You're the Dean's son, the kid that other kids are afraid of. But guess what? They're not afraid of who you are, they're not afraid of you, they're only afraid of what you represent. So have a little think about that, and next time, before you come swooping in to save me again, consider that I don't want to be saved by people like you."
And with that, the kid turned and flounced off, leaving Hamilton gaping in his wake.
***
Main Street
Josh's beat-up mini came to a bunny-hopping, engine-crunching stop next to the curb. Josh emerged, blinking against the afternoon sunlight, and checked his watch. He walked up to the diner and peeked inside: through the large windows he could see Ryder and Faye at their usual booth at the back of the restaurant, having an animated discussion.
They were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't even notice Josh until he was almost on top of them. "Well, I have no more ideas," Faye was saying, "we'll just have to go to him and try our luck."
"Who are you talking about?" asked Josh, sliding into the seat beside Faye.
The siblings gave a start. "How long have you been here?" demanded Ryder.
"Just got here," replied Josh, looking at them suspiciously, "so what's up?"
"Nothing," said Faye nonchalantly, changing the topic, "I thought you had band practice."
"I do," Josh said, "just wanted to see what you guys were up to before I left."
"Oh, nothing, nothing..." said Faye airily, a small gleam suddenly coming into her eye, "just... um, grabbing a bite to eat. Why don't you order something before you go?"
"Actually, I better go now, I'm late." Josh said nervously, standing up, "I'll see you guys later."
After Faye made sure he was safely out of earshot, she turned to Ryder with a sigh. "I can't believe how well that worked."
Ryder leaned back and folded his arms, "What, telling him to stay and eat something in order to make him leave?"
"Yeah..." she sighed again, "talk about screwed up. We've got to do something about him."
"He's not one for confrontation," he said wisely.
"I know," she nodded, looking lost in thought. After a moment she shook her head and stood up, "We'll worry about him later, let's sort out your mess now. Come on."
"You know he won't agree to it," he said, following her out of the diner.
She shrugged. "We'll see."
***
New Rawley Beauty Salon
"After you take out the trash," said Susan Krudski, showing Scout around the salon, "rise out the mops and buckets before you put them back in the cleaning supplies closet. We once had a girl who didn't rise out the mop after she'd used it for some spilt red hair dye..." she grinned, "let's just say we didn't pay to have that pinkish tint put on the floors."
He chuckled, "Gotcha."
"If you have any problems, just ask," she patted him on the shoulder. "You'll do a fine job, honey."
"Thanks, Mrs. Krudski," he put on his most charming grin.
"I didn't think I'd live to see the day when a Calhoun would help out in my salon," she winked.
"Especially when he's the hired help." Scout laughed, "It's fine, I want to do this."
"Because it builds character?" she asked knowingly.
He looked down for a moment, a small smile about his lips. "I guess... I guess it makes me more useful. I mean, I want to be more useful."
She looked a little surprised at first, but the expression was quickly replaced with a smile. "That's good to know," she said simply.
Part 4
Joe Paterson's house
"Nope. No way."
"Joe, you've got to give me some leeway here," Ryder said, folding his arms, "or you'll be getting nothing, understand?"
"Uh, wrong," Joe looked up from his seat on the couch. He didn't invite Ryder or his sister to sit down - he didn't want any false impressions of an equal exchange of power around here. He shrugged and spread his hands, "if you don't pay me, I'll just go into the school and grab your stuff. It's that simple."
Ryder narrowed his eyes at Joe, "And I could get you arrested for doing that, you know."
"And I can make sure that every high school kid in town knows about it before the week is out," countered Joe, "believe me, you're not going to be terribly popular around these parts."
"I can live without the love of Townie teenagers,� Ryder retorted crisply.
"I don't doubt that," Joe smirked, "but can you still live in this town if every single one of them is bent on making your life hell?"
"Guys, guys," Faye interrupted, holding up her hands, "this is getting nowhere. Ryder, shut up � you lost the bet, and now you've got to pay the consequences. Joe," she sat down opposite him and leaned forward, "be reasonable. From what�"
"I didn't say you could sit down," he interrupted.
"Yes, well, I took the liberty of doing so myself," she brushed the question aside, "but thank you for asking. Anyway, from what I hear, this is the biggest bet anyone's ever placed on your table. And although you surely delight in taking money off a Rawley kid � Ryder at that � even we don't have five thousand dollars on hand, just like that. And it's no good to pout and demand it, because whatever you do, you're not gonna get it in three days."
"I'll take your stuff," Joe said stubbornly.
She eyed him dubiously, "and what exactly are you going to do with Ryder's stuff?"
"I'll have you know," Ryder perched himself on the armrest of the couch, "that a lot of my things are special editions or one-offs. If you try to sell them, Joe," he sneered, "I don't see you getting market price."
"And it will be a huge waste of your resources and his." Faye finished for her brother, "Now, if you allow us a few more weeks � say, until the end of the month � you'll get your five grand up front, you won't need to go to the trouble of getting his stuff out of the school� god knows Ryder isn't exactly going to help you in that process. You won't need to try and pawn his stuff, especially not at a fair price. It's a lose-lose situation if it happens."
Joe rubbed his index finger over his upper lip, and looked a little tempted. "Let's just say," he said slowly, "say it's a possibility. I don't trust you, Ryder, if I let you off now, who knows when you�ll bring me the money? And I especially don't trust you," he added, narrowing his eyes at Faye.
She, to his chagrin, looked flattered at this last comment. "Fine," she said, "I'll be his witness. Trustee. Whatever you want to call it. If he doesn't pay up, you can come after me."
"Nice try, blondie," scoffed Joe, "I don't do deals with little rich girls. Especially if that little rich girl happens to be his sister."
"What if we get you someone else?" Faye asked quickly, "someone from town? Someone you know?"
Joe considered the option. �Yeah�� he finally said, �I'll give that a go if you can find someone who'd do that for you. But don't screw me around. I don't want no Rawley kid coming in and pretending he's my best friend from town or somethin'. Believe me," he smirked, "I can tell."
"Yes, your powers of recognising people are astounding," said Faye, dryly. "Come on, Ryder, let's go and find you a trustee."
***
Central Criminal Court, London
�I recognise that this type of argument has been tried and failed,� Justice Moodie said slowly and emphatically, nearly at the end of his judgment, �but I also recognise that in the criminal law, no actual act can be encompassed by one hard and fast law, no punishment can be given without considering the matrix of facts at the heart of the case.�
Monica held Jake�s hand while Jake chewed nervously on her lower lip. She could feel that the skin on her mother�s palm was as cold and slick as her own. Without really meaning to, she sneaked a glance at Grant, who was standing ramrod straight and staring blankly ahead.
The judge continued, "There is no real dispute that there is a strong lack of evidential basis for the administering of drugs charge. The prosecution�s case did not prove that the defendant was the one who supplied or intoxicated the victim, so I am going to set the charge aside. As for the charge of attempted rape��
Jake�s hold on Monica�s hand tightened. She took a deep breath and fought the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, willing herself to face the outcome head-on.
�It is my decision that,� Justice Moodie cleared his throat, �although the defendant's actions amounted to the crime in question, the prosecution has failed to prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that subjectively, he knew or understood that the victim had not given her consent. In other words, it was not shown that the evidence on hand amounted to a criminal state of mind. I therefore pronounce the defendant Not Guilty."
***
Outside Joe�s house
"Grace Banks," suggested Faye.
Ryder shot a withering look in her direction as they got into his car. "Don�t stray into Townie Girl territory."
"Screw 'em and leave 'em," she made a terrible face, "and you wonder why you don't have someone who trusts you with five thousand dollars when you sorely need one."
"You're not helping, you know," he pointed out, scowling.
"And I've earned the right to not help when I feel like it," she replied, "because I happen to be the only person so far who's putting up with this. Carrying on, how about Sean?"
He shook his head vigorously as he started the car, "No way."
"What happened with you two, anyway?" she demanded, "You were all buddy-buddy at the end of spring semester and then boom, you're never speaking to each other again."
"We had a disagreement," he said coldly. "Any more suggestions?"
"You're just going to say no," she sighed, "but Will Krudski?"
"I'm not even going to grace that suggestion with an answer," he said contemptuously, pulling out onto the street.
"You said he knows Joe," she reminded him, "and didn't he bail you out last summer, or something?"
"In case you didn't notice," he snorted, "our relationship's gone a bit downhill since then."
"Because you were such a wanker," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest, "look, stop shooting all my ideas down because I'm out. You got yourself into this mess and you should be glad I'm helping you here, so stop acting as though this is my problem and start taking some responsibility."
He did not answer. Instead, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the car took off like a shot down the narrow street.
***
Rawley Boys' Academy, computer rooms
Hamilton had waited anxiously by the phone for several hours but Jake had not called. He could feel himself grow more and more agitated as the minutes wore on, yet he didn�t know what could ease the tension. Jake's cell phone was turned off. It was evening already in New Rawley, which equated to late at night in London, and the case surely must have finished by now.
But� no news.
Not for him, anyway. He took some time away from the common room phone to check his email, and he clicked impatiently on the 'new messages' icon on his inbox, already worrying that he�d spent too much time away from the phone. What if Jake called during these five or ten minutes that he was out of the room? He was so caught up in fretting about phone calls that it was a good few moments before he realised he had a new email from Jake. His heart leapt to his throat.
It had no subject line. He swallowed nervously, and clicked to open the email.
"We lost. I'm flying back on the red-eye. Sorry I didn't call� I need some time to think. We'll talk when I get back. Love, Jake."
"Shit," he swore out loud, staring agape at the computer screen.
***
The Gas Station
People living their lives for you on TV
They say they're better than you, and you agree
He says, "Hold my calls for me I must go,"
The Boss says, "Come here boy, there ain't nothin' for free."
Another doctor's bill, a lawyer's bill,
Another cute cheap thrill
You know you love him if you put him in your will
Bella was sitting at the counter, cradling her treasured guitar and keeping a close eye on the tablature laid out in front of her. She was so intent on playing 'Who Will Save Your Soul' by Jewel, and so caught up in singing, that she didn't notice a car pulling into the gas station.
Josh had only just come back from band practice. Having a practice venue in the outskirts of Boston did not make for easy trips, and today was no exception. He emerged wearily from the car, revelling in the warm evening air, and filled up on gas. As he returned the nozzle to the pumps, a movement inside the shop caught his eye, and his attention was captured when he saw Bella inside with a guitar, singing away without a clue that somebody was watching.
But who will save your souls when it comes to the flowers now
Who will save your souls after all the lies that you told, boy
Who will save your souls if you won't save your own?
He walked closer to the door, carefully keeping himself to the shadows. The door was ajar, and her lilting voice drifted out into the open air. He nodded appreciatively at the clear, sweet sound and, peeking from just outside the doorframe, scrutinised her fingering.
We try to hustle them, try to bustle them, try to cuss them
The cops want someone to bust down on Orleans Avenue
Another day, another dollar, another war, another tower
Went up to where the homeless had their homes
So we pray to as many different gods as there are flowers
But we call religion our friend
We're so worried about saving our souls
Afraid that God will take his toll
That we forget to begin but�
Bella came to an abrupt stop as she caught a movement in her peripheral vision. Josh was leaning against the doorframe, smiling. "Oh god," she said, jumping off the stool, "how long have you been standing there?"
"A while," he answered, walking into the shop. "You sounded good."
"You're just saying that," she said lightly, although a smile crept up her face as she rang up his gas purchase.
"I'm not," he said earnestly. "How long have you been playing?"
She shrugged, "About a month and a half."
He nodded, "Do you plan to perform?"
"God, I don't know," she laughed, "It's too far into the future for me to think about."
"Well, you should." He leaned his elbows on the countertop and smiled, "do you write your own songs too?"
"Not really," she admitted, "I mean, I tried� but it didn't come out sounding very� you know, good."
"No one's first song is perfect," he grinned, "hey, you wanna jam sometime?"
"God, don't scare me with musiciany words like 'jamming'!" she chuckled, jokingly pressing a hand to her chest, "Look, I appreciate you saying all these nice things, but I just don't think I'm ready for all this stuff."
"Come on," he laughed, "how do you know you're not good enough if you don't even try? Look, I've got my guitar in the trunk; we can jam a little if you want, right now. It's totally not scary," he winked and pulled a cute smile, "cos it's me, right?"
"Well..." she hesitated, smiling weakly.
He chuckled, "I'll go get my guitar."
***
The Diner
"You're heartless," commented Ryder, watching his sister wolf down a Friendly's burger in three or four bites. "How can you eat at a time like this?"
"I need fuel for brain power," she answered cheerfully, "otherwise, who's gonna think up ideas for you? Not to mention," she eyed his 'dinner', one plain black coffee, "you're obviously not going to be able to do it for yourself."
He shrugged, downing the last of the dregs from his cup. He leaned out of their booth to signal the waiter for a refill, but was instead distracted by what he saw across the road. "Hey," he said, "Take a look at that."
She looked over at the gas station and raised her brows, "I didn't know Josh was jamming with Bella. In fact, I didn't know Bella could play guitar. Hey..." she quickly drew back into the booth, "look who's sitting by the window."
He glanced over, and looked back at her. "It's Sean," he said blandly, "astounding. Because Townies never hang out in the diner."
She rolled her eyes, "It wouldn't hurt you to cut the sarcasm once in a while. You know what I'm getting at."
"Yeah," he looked like he was fighting a grimace, "but..."
"No buts," she said firmly, standing up, "you need a Townie trustee, and I'm getting one for you. It's that simple."
"He won't do it," he said decisively, "we're on bad terms."
"No matter, dear brother," she was already halfway to Sean's booth, "just watch and learn."
Sean occupied the vantage spot of the corner booth, checking out what Bella was doing with Josh in the station. He was lost in thought, and when Faye slid into the seat next to him with a cheerful 'hi', he jumped. "Geez," he sputtered, "do you always sneak up on people?"
"Depends," she chuckled, "do you always spend your time spying on the gas station?"
"Ha ha," he laughed weakly. "So what's up?"
"I dunno," she said deviously, eyeing the figures inside the gas station, "what's on your mind, Sean? You look like you could use someone to talk to."
He followed her gaze to Bella and Josh, laughing, conversing, and looking like they were generally having a good time. He swallowed, a hint of red beginning to climb up his neck. "Listen, um..." he said hesitantly, "say you're a guy, and there's this girl you used to go out with."
She hid a smile, "Yeah?"
"And�" he continued, absently playing with his glass of Coke, which was by now very flat, "you sorta broke up and went back to being friends for a while. I mean, say she was going out with someone else all this time. And you thought, hey, that's fine; but then she broke up with him and when you see her again, it's like... why did we ever split up? Say if you were the guy, and you just realised you still, you know, um, had feelings for this girl..."
"Sean," she shook her head good-naturedly, "I've deciphered your ingenious code. If you want relationship advice about Bella, just ask."
The hint of red on his neck quickly flared into a deep crimson, rising all the way to the tips of his ears. He grinned sheepishly, but gave no reply.
"The way I see it," she said promptly, taking his silence as affirmation, "she could be anybody's game nowadays, but having said that, she's not going to be an easy catch."
"What do you mean?" he furrowed his brows.
"Think about it," she reached over and took a sip from his glass, "she's spent the whole of last year between the three of you � most of that time with Will. I personally have never gone out with Will, so I can't tell you what it's like, but I'm sure we can all imagine."
He cracked a smile, "If you're talkin' about all his crazy projects�"
"He's Will, let's just leave it at that," she laughed, "my point is, any girl would be keen for a breather after a relationship with Mr. Shakespeare himself."
"That's what she said," he commented thoughtfully, "the other week, she told me she liked being single right now."
"Exactly." Faye drummed her fingers on the tabletop, "So as far as I can see, you've got to mould your tactic to suit her. Don't push, that's the number one rule � she�s just going to smile and give you a 'thanks, but no thanks' spiel. You want to sneak up on her. Get her to be unsuspecting. Don't let her think you're out to get in her pants, even though that may be your ultimate goal."
"Geez, Faye!" he half-choked, half-laughed, "You're worse than most of the guys I know."
"I would take that as a compliment," she mock-sighed, "but I know it's so not true. To get back on track, I'm merely suggesting that you take it slow� and make it subtle."
He raised an eyebrow, "And how d'you suppose I do that?"
"Spend as much time with her as you can," she said slowly, mulling it over, "but don't make it too obvious. Get in on her interests. Help her with stuff. Just try to be around as much as possible without coming off like a stalker. That way, you'll have an advantage over other guys who are also trying to get close to her, because you'll be with her all the time. It's also a good time to enforce your friendship further, develop some mutual interests, maybe you can get her to confide in you about certain things... and then, before you know it," she flashed him a grin, "you'll be a couple again."
He nodded thoughtfully, �I�ll think about that. Thanks.�
"Don't thank me too fast," she could feel Ryder's intent stare on them, all the way from the back of the restaurant, "it's a favour between friends, right?"
"Right..." he said dubiously.
She grinned, her eyes lighting up, "So how would you like to do a favour for me in return?"
Part 5
Joe's house
"No offence, Sean," Joe spoke to the Townie, but fixed his eyes firmly on Ryder, "but I'm gonna need more than a guarantee from you."
"We had a deal." Ryder said irritably, "I bring you a trustee from town, you give me until the end of the month. You can't back on it now."
"Yeah..." Joe exhaled a plume of smoke, examining the cigarette he held between his thumb and forefinger, "but you two hung around for a while. Frankly speaking, I don't trust this line-up with five thousand dollars."
"Look, Joe," Faye was growing impatient, "what could we do in the meantime? Run off and never appear in this town again? You're going to get paid at the end of the month, we've found somebody from town to guarantee, so just drop it already."
Joe looked thoughtful. "What do you say, Sean?"
Sean shrugged, looking ill at ease, "I'm just here on a favour. I dunno..." he threw a quick glance in Ryder's direction, "he's pretty good with debts, I guess."
"Yeah..." Joe said slowly, "but you see, I have a problem on my hands. The five thousand dollars I'm gonna get, no questions about that. But they're the proceeds of," he spread his hands, "let's just say, not entirely 'clean' dealings. So if Brit boy here decides, at the end of the month, hey, I'm not gonna pay this after all, I can't very well send the police on his heels."
"You know I don�t welsh," Ryder said, exasperated, "look, this is getting nowhere."
"I agree." Faye folded her arms, "Joe, why don't you just lay down what you want from us, straight up, and we'll see if it's workable."
Joe tapped his cigarette against the ashtray on the coffee table, �I want a guarantee from someone from town. Someone who's not Sean.� He glanced at the blond Townie, "No offence, man. You know how it is � you guys have been friends for a while. I want someone impartial."
"Sure," Sean shrugged, looking at Faye apologetically. She shrugged back.
"What if we bring you somebody else, and you pull this again?" Ryder demanded.
"You know the people we know, why don't you just give us a list of names?" suggested Faye, "People you trust with the job."
"You know, I've got a person in mind," said Joe slowly, "and you guys know him. Why don't we set it out like this: if you get Willie Krudski to back you up, along with Sean's guarantee, I'll let you have until the end of the month, no questions asked."
***
Finn�s office
Anita Simons knocked tentatively on the door, which was half open. She could see Finn sitting at his desk, and Will was with him.
�Please come in, Ms. Simons,� Finn said as he looked up, indicating a seat opposite his desk. Anita sat down gingerly, glancing at Will. He looked back equally apprehensively.
�As you may be aware, both of you have signed up for the tutoring programme.� Finn said, leaning forward, �I�ve had a student come in today, who wants extra lessons in English and Philosophy, two subjects that both of you have expressed an interest in tutoring.�
�So what�s going to happen?� asked Will, glancing at Anita, �We take one subject each?�
�That�s why I asked you two to come,� Finn said, �we usually don�t get many students on this programme, so I want you to decide between you who gets what job.�
�I call English,� Anita said immediately.
�Hey!� Will exclaimed, �It�s not like calling shotgun. You can�t just take it.�
She shot him a dirty look, �Heard of the expression �ladies first�?�
�Yeah, and it only applies to ladies,� he shot back.
�What are you implying?� She narrowed her eyes at him.
�Hold on,� Finn interrupted impatiently, �you two are not six years old anymore. Try discussing the matter like adults and keep it civil.�
�Well, I would like English, too,� Will said defensively, �you know it�s my best subject.�
�It�s my best subject too,� Anita pouted, �and you�re always walking around being serious philosopher dude anyway��
Finn hiccoughed, trying to conceal his laughter.
�I�m not �serious philosopher dude�!� Will exclaimed, not sure whether to be offended or flattered by that remark, �Anita, just because you want something doesn�t mean other people will fall all over themselves to give it to you.�
�That�s it,� Finn announced, �we�re never going to reach an agreement this way.� He pulled a quarter out of his pocket, �Coin toss. Call it, Anita.�
�Why does she get to�� Will grumbled, but one cautionary look from Finn, and he faltered, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up. The teacher was right. They were acting like a bunch of six year olds. He sneaked another look at Anita, resisting the urge to poke out his tongue � annoyingly, she always had the effect of reducing him to some sort of spiteful, argumentative kid � yet another reason to hate her.
�Tails,� Anita said.
Finn caught the coin and slapped it on the back of his other hand. �Tails it is,� he said cheerfully, �pick your subject, Anita.�
�English,� Anita said smugly, sending a triumphant smile in Will�s direction.
�Fine.� Finn nodded, �Will, you take philosophy. I�ll get Maria to meet up with the two of you to arrange times.�
�Maria?� Will asked, �Maria Ishizuka? She�s the one who wants tutoring?�
�Yes,� Finn glanced at him, �is that a problem, Mr. Krudski?�
�No,� Will said, �but she�s my friend. I should have been the one to take both jobs.�
�Good, rational logic, Will,� Anita rolled her eyes as she got up from her chair, �I can see the philosophy lessons now: all cats are mammals; all dogs are mammals; therefore cats are dogs.�
�Do you ever shut up?� Will asked, �Maybe you should get checked out for Attention Deficit Disorder.�
�That will be enough from both of you.� Finn said sharply, �Will, since Maria approached the school for tutoring, we can�t use friendship as a basis of favouring one tutor over the other; Anita, you got your first preference, cut him some slack. Now, have you got any other questions?�
Both Will and Anita shook their heads. �Fine,� Finn said, settling back in his chair, �please see yourselves out.�
Once they were safely in the hallway with the door closed behind them, Will glanced at Anita. �Bitch,� he muttered.
�Jerk,� she retorted straight back.
They shot the other one last poisonous glare each, and went their separate ways.
***
Josh and Ryder's room
"Of course you can ask him if he's keen to do it," Ryder said, pacing up and down in agitation, "Over my dead body."
From her seat on Josh's bed, Faye let out a huge sigh, "Just give that a rest! Will's a reasonable guy!"
"He'll milk it for all he's worth," he retorted angrily, "there's no way in hell I'm asking him."
"What's going on?" asked Josh, who'd just come into the room to witness his friends� rare losses of composure. He looked quizzically at Faye, who threw up her hands in frustration and pointed at her brother, "Ask him."
"Ryder?" Josh said tentatively, sitting down beside Faye but keeping his eyes on the other boy.
Ryder pressed a hand to his burning forehead and closed his eyes wearily. "I really didn't want to do this," he mumbled, turning in Josh's direction, "but..."
Josh waited. Ryder pushed his hair back with both hands, sighed, and finally decided to toss in the towel, "I need to borrow five thousand dollars."
First, Josh looked stunned. Then thoughtful. Then apologetic. "Um," he said meekly, "this is probably not a good time to tell you..."
"Oh lord," Faye covered her face and fell back onto the bed, "don't tell me there's more drama."
"�but my parents," Josh continued, staring up at Ryder, "well� I'm not getting money from them anymore."
"They what?" demanded Ryder, "How the bloody hell did that happen?"
"What are you living on?" Faye sat back up, her eyes as wide as saucers, "how are you paying for school?"
"They're still paying for school, until I graduate," said Josh quietly, "but� I'm seventeen now, and I applied for emancipation."
"You asked for it yourself?" Ryder exclaimed, "Jesus, Josh! What the hell did you do that for?"
"Ryder," Faye admonished, just as Josh replied, quite calmly, "Because it's what I want."
"Jesus," Ryder muttered, resuming his frantic walk back and forth, "so what does this mean?"
"Firstly," Josh bit his lower lip, "it means I definitely can't come up with five thousand dollars on short notice. I'm sorry, but I simply can't afford that right now."
"What are you living on?" Faye asked again, scooting closer.
He glanced at her, "I'm using the money I get from gigs. It's not enough for the real world," he shrugged, "but it's enough when you're at boarding school, which you don't have to pay for."
"When did you decide?" she placed an arm over his shoulders, "and why didn't you tell us?"
"I arranged for it when we got back from France. I was going to tell you two, soon, as a surprise." He said softly, "I wanted to celebrate it, because it's a good thing for me. I never wanted their money, not after everything else�"
"Not after what they did," Ryder sighed, sitting down on the other side of Faye. "It's all right, mate," he said in a low voice, "I would've done the same thing."
"I guess we should say congratulations," Faye gave Josh an awkward, one-armed hug, "and I'm sorry you had to break the news this way."
"Why do you need five thousand dollars, anyway?" Josh asked, "I've never seen you guys get like this over money."
"Yeah, well," Faye said, shooting a death glare in Ryder's direction, "somebody relied a little too much on his cheating skills at poker."
***
Rawley Boys' Academy
The Asian kid walked fast � so fast that, had Hamilton not been keeping an eye out for him, he would have never caught the kid as he darted past in the hallway. �Hey, Michael,� he called, chasing after the kid, �please wait up.�
�Oh, the Dean�s son knows my name,� Michael said with a scornful smile as he turned around, �I should be scared, right? Am I in big trouble?�
�Stop doing that,� Hamilton said uncomfortably.
�Stop doing what?� Michael played dumb.
�Stop thinking�� Hamilton paused, �because I�m the Dean�s son, that everything�s so easy for me. It�s not. You won�t believe this, but I promise you, I know how you feel in this place better than anybody else.�
Michael just stared at him. �Yeah, right.�
�I�m serious,� said Hamilton, �I mean, you take one look at me and decide, he�s the Dean�s kid, no one would dare to bully him, but�� he shrugged, �it doesn�t work like that.�
�It doesn�t?� Michael asked coolly.
�No.� Hamilton said emphatically. �Do you know what kept happening to me when I first started at Rawley? I got especially picked on. By the worst bullies. You know why? Because they were bored with harassing �normal� kids and wanted a challenge.�
�And there isn�t a better challenge at Rawley than the Dean�s son,� Michael said with a little nod.
�Exactly,� Hamilton said, �and you know what the worst part was? Not only did I get picked on by the worst kids, I couldn�t do anything about it. Yeah, yeah,� he quickly added when he saw the incredulous look on Michael�s face, �Dean�s son, whatever. That didn�t help.�
�Bull,� Michael said, but the edge in his voice was gone.
�It�s true,� Hamilton said earnestly. �Think about it. If you were the Dean of this school, and your kid tells you all these guys are being mean to him, what would you do?�
�Try to find out what really went on,� Michael answered promptly.
�And?� pressed Hamilton.
�I guess I�ll have to make a fair decision�� a light was beginning to dawn in Michael�s eyes, �and I can�t look like I�m on my kid�s side all the time��
�Exactly.� Hamilton sighed, �My dad is so worried about looking unfair that, most of the time, he�ll make decisions against me on purpose. I never tell him what goes on at school anymore. What�s the point? He can�t do anything about it.� He paused, and looked meaningfully at Michael, �That�s being the Dean�s son. It�s not as sheltered as you might think.�
The kid nodded, slowly.
�Anyway,� Hamilton shrugged, turning away, �I�m not even sure why I flagged you down for this. I guess I just didn�t want someone to think I was this high and mighty guy who saves freshmen for fun��
�Hey,� Michael spoke shyly behind him, �you know, you�re actually all right.�
Hamilton smiled and turned around, �Thanks��
Michael saw the other boy�s gaze shift, over his shoulder, and Hamilton�s expression changed as he saw something behind Michael. Without another word he dashed forward. Michael turned in time to see Hamilton envelop a tall lanky boy in a bear hug. �Jake,� Hamilton said anxiously, �are you okay?�
Jake�s face was pale and withdrawn, but she managed a smile, �Let�s just say I�ve been better.�
�C�mon, let�s go home,� he said quietly, taking her bags. As he guided her past Michael he smiled at the kid, but the kid didn�t smile back. In fact, he was staring at Jake, his mouth hanging slightly open.
Hamilton quickly gave Jake a once-over: she looked weary, but to all intents and purposes still looked like a guy, and a relatively normal one at that. Maybe Michael didn�t realise they were �gay�. He gave himself a mental shrug and continued on their way.
***
Edmund High
�I thought you said you weren�t going to do it,� Bella said, watching Sean put his name on the Kidsline sign-up sheet.
�Yeah�� he grinned self-consciously, �I changed my mind. It�d be sorta cool to� help kids.�
She grinned at him and, impulsively, gave him a hug. �Sean, you�re a great guy,� she said, �I hope you know that.�
He chuckled, his ears turned red, and he did not answer.
***
Rawley Boys� Academy dormitory
Josh and Faye were outside Will and Malcolm�s room. The door was closed, but evidently that wasn�t too much of an impediment to them. Josh pressed his ear to the door while Faye crouched low, trying to peek through the keyhole. �Can you hear anything?� she hissed.
�Just a few words now and again,� he admitted, �what can you see?�
�Unfortunately, just Will�s right buttock,� she said, and they dissolved into quiet giggles.
***
�So, let me get this straight,� Will stuck his hands inside his pockets, �you act like an absolute bastard all summer, annoy the hell out of me, and now you want me to guarantee your five thousand dollar debt?�
Ryder considered. �I�d say that�s about it.�
Will was so surprised that he began to laugh, �you�ve got some nerve.�
�Look,� Ryder sighed, �I know I�ve been acting like an arse.�
�Damn straight,� Will replied, still laughing.
�But the truth is, I really need help,� Ryder continued. A significant pause, and he added, �I would really appreciate it if you could help me.�
It took Will another minute to stop laughing. �Oh,� he said, �you�re being serious.�
�Of course I�m being serious!� Ryder barely had time to bite back a scathing �you idiot�, �you think I�m doing this for fun?�
�It�s always the same old question, Ryder,� Will said, �after all the nasty stuff you did to me, why should I help you?�
Ryder sighed again. �Because you�re a good guy, Will.�
�Sorry, that�s not going to be enough,� Will smirked, �try a little harder next time.�
�Look, would it help if I said I�m�� Ryder fought the urge to roll his eyes, �I�m��
Will waited, looking like he was trying hard not to smile. Ryder tried again, �I�m��
�You�re what, Ryder?� Will asked innocently, raising an eyebrow.
�I�m sorry, okay?� Ryder finally burst out, �There, I said it. I�m sorry for making your life hell. I�m sorry for all the crap that went on during the summer. Are you happy now?�
�Hmm, relatively.� Will chuckled, �Now, a few more years of apologies like that, and we�ve got a deal on our hands.�
�Well, what else do you expect me to do?� Ryder exploded, �Get on my knees and grovel?�
�That�d be a start,� Will said mildly, �I wouldn�t object.�
�That�s it,� Ryder glared at him and whirled on his heels, �I�m out of here. I don�t know why I agreed to this.�
Will watched with a placid smile as Ryder wrenched the door open. With muffled exclamations of surprise, Josh and Faye toppled into the room and landed in a heap. �Hey,� Josh smiled feebly, �we were� uh, eavesdropping. Hope you don�t mind.�
�I should have never listened to you two,� Ryder shot icy glares at them, �get up, let�s go.�
�But Ryder�� Faye whined.
�Wait,� Will finally cracked up, �Ryder, wait.�
�WHAT?� Ryder stopped at the door, looking as though he was going to bite somebody�s head off at any moment, �I�m warning you, Krudski, I�m at the end of my tether. If you think you can hold this over my head, then you�ve got another thought coming��
�Shut up, you dork,� Will said good-naturedly, �I�ll go.�
The trio stared. Finally Ryder blinked, and asked incredulously, �You�ll go?�
Will nodded. �Like you said, I�m a good guy,� he winked, �and unlike what you said, I think this will be something I can hold over your head� at least for a while.�
�You�re a man of honour, Will,� Faye said solemnly. And then, �Josh, get off my leg. You look like you�re humping it. Plus, you�re cutting off my circulation.�
Part 6
Jake�s room
�I think you should get some rest,� Hamilton raced around the room, peeling back the covers on the bed and rearranging the pillows, �you look like you need it.�
�I�m not tired,� Jake said curtly. As soon as she set her bags down, she had opened her laptop and was now busily typing away.
�What are you doing?� He asked, looking over her shoulder.
�I�m hacking into Grant�s bank accounts,� she said matter-of-factly, �and I�m going to donate all his money to charity.�
�Whoa, Jake,� he placed a hand on her shoulder, �I don�t think that�s such a great idea.�
"I do,� she replied without stopping.
He couldn�t figure out what exactly she was doing, but she was definitely rewriting lines of code that didn�t look like they should be rewritten. �Jake,� he said, more urgently, and forcefully pulled her hands away from the keyboard, �listen to me.�
�Damn it, Hamilton!� She exploded, leaping out of her chair and beginning to pace up and down the room, �I�ve got to do something! You understand that, don�t you? I can�t just sit around knowing he�s gotten off and he�s happy and nothing�s gonna happen to him��
He nodded, �I know. And I think he deserves whatever you want to dish out to him. But Jake� I don�t want you getting caught and going to jail for twenty years because you hacked into some hotshot�s bank account. Do you know how tight the security is on internet banking?�
She stopped pacing and gave him a tight smile, �No offence, but I think I know more about internet security than you do.�
"I�m sure you do,� he said soothingly, �and you�re good� you�re more than good. I think you�re better than the hackers in the movies. But Jake, if you get rid of all of Grant�s money, you�re going to get into some serious trouble. And I mean serious.�
She set her jaw and stared at him, stubbornly.
�We watch Law and Order every week,� he cajoled, �and you see what happens to hackers there. Look, Jake, if you�re gonna make his life miserable by hacking into some computer account, at least make sure it�s not criminal.�
�Hacking is criminal,� she corrected him.
He sighed, �Then at least make sure it�s not�um,� he furrowed his brows, �too criminal.�
Despite the state of things, she had to laugh.
***
Joe�s House
Josh and Faye loitered in the front porch, trying to look inconspicuous as they peeked through the window. Ryder made them stay outside while he, Will and Sean went in to see Joe, despite Faye�s very loud, very mouthy protests. The guys have been inside for a while, and in spite of Josh and Faye�s best efforts, they could only make out hazy figures behind the white mesh curtains, no doubt designed to keep curious eyes out in the first place.
�The suspense is killing me,� Faye announced, tugging on her hair.
Josh cast a quick grin in her direction, �Don�t worry about it. The worst has happened � Ryder apologised to Will. That�s already the end of the world as we know it.�
She laughed, �True enough.�
As she said that, the door opened behind them and out walked Ryder, looking nonplussed. Sean was right behind him. Will and Joe sauntered out last, still conversing quietly. Faye dashed up to her brother. �Well?� she asked expectantly.
�It�s done. End of the month,� he lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply.
�It�s been a long, hard road,� Josh mock-sighed, �right, Ryder?�
Ryder glanced at him with a sideways smile, but did not answer. Catching sight of Joe stepping back into the house, he sauntered to Will�s side. �Hey,� he said in a low voice, �um� thanks for that.�
Will smiled at him � just a little condescendingly � which, to be truthful, Ryder deserved. �No problem,� he said, �it�s cool.�
Ryder felt obliged to smile in return. �But,� he warned, �you still get on my nerves, Krudski. Don�t think I�m going to start acting all soft around you now.�
�Wouldn�t dream of it,� Will laughed, watching as the blond boy turned away.
*Travis� �Sing� begins to play*
Sean joined him, �All�s well that ends well, eh?�
�Something like that,� agreed Will, and the two shared a smile.
*Will�s voiceover starts*
�I think I believe that no man is an island. I think we all need help at some stage in our lives � no one can pull themselves through everything that happens in life, you always need somebody out there to lend you a helping hand. The more I think about it, the more I realise that I�m okay with that� sometimes, we need help to work things out. Who knows? Sometimes, it works out better than you�ve ever expected.�
***
The Gas Station
Bella, clutching her guitar, was perched on the shop stool. Alternately, she looked at her tablature and glanced at Josh, who stood to one side, D�Arcy the electric guitar in hand. He smiled encouragingly at her as they continued to play, nodding his head to the beat.
Baby, you've been going so crazy
Lately, nothing seems to be going right
Solo, why do you have to get so low?
You're so... you've been waiting in the sun too long
She strummed carefully, listening to the overall effect as he began to sing. She had to admit, they didn�t sound half bad� she couldn�t resist a small smile: she didn�t sound half bad.
***
Jake�s room
If you sing, sing�
Sing, sing, sing, sing�
For the love you bring won't mean a thing
Unless you sing, sing, sing, sing�
�That�s it,� Jake hit the �enter� key with a flourish, �Grant won�t know what hit him.�
�You are an evil woman,� Hamilton laughed, �did anyone ever tell you that?�
�Of course you meant evil in a good way,� she chuckled, reaching over so that she could kiss him lightly.
�Of course,� he echoed, �you dish out revenge to the guys who deserve it� like Batman.�
�Batman,� she mused as she kissed him yet again, �I like that.�
***
Rawley Boys� Academy
Colder, crying over your shoulder
Hold her, tell her everything's gonna be fine
Surely, you've been going too early
Hurry, cos no one's gonna be stopped, no no
Scout and Will walked down the hall, chuckling. �I can�t believe I missed the whole thing,� Scout said with an air of regret, �I should�ve been there to see you bring Ryder to his knees.�
�I�ve got to admit, it was one satisfying experience,� Will grinned, �I loved the look on his face when I first told him I wasn�t going to help him. Smoke was literally coming out of his ears.�
�I bet it was,� Scout smiled as they reached his dorm room. He reached for the handle, and noticed that a letter had been slipped under the door. He picked it up; it was addressed to him.
Baby, there's something going on today
I say
Nothing, nothing
Nothing, nothing
Nothing, nothing�
�I hope he tones it down from now on,� Will mused, �I�d hate to see him catch another fall.�
"Yeah, right,� Scout laughed, opening the letter. As he scanned its contents, the smile froze on his face.
�What is it?� asked Will upon seeing his expression.
Scout stared down at the crisp, white page. One sentence, set down in dark blue ink, in his father�s neat handwriting, leapt out at him; the words fixed themselves on his mind, etched so sharply and suddenly that, for a moment, he could not register what it meant.
�Your mother and I are filing for a divorce.�
So, no� if you sing, sing�
For the love you bring won't mean a thing
Unless you sing�
Sing, sing, sing�
The End
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