Body Slammed! (14 page)

Jesse peered in the rearview mirror. Kristi was leaning against the door, asleep. TJ and Arlene were making out. Jesse smiled, thinking that TJ had to be the coolest guy he'd ever met.

He spotted a police squad car coming toward them from the opposite direction. Jesse's heart quickened, but he tried not to worry. He wasn't speeding, and the lights on TJ's car were working fine.

The officer glared at Jesse as he drove past. Quickly, Jesse pushed Donna off and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Through the rearview mirror, he kept his eyes on the squad car as it continued driving away from him.

Yeah, that's it. Keep on going, pal. Go meet your buddies at the donut shop.

Then to his horror, Jesse saw the squad car slow down and make a U-turn.

He can't be coming after me! I wasn't doing anything wrong.

Then it dawned on him. The mask! It must have drawn the police officer's suspicion. With one hand, Jesse clumsily undid the laces and yanked it off.

The police officer turned on his flashing lights and siren and drove behind him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“
T
J, a cop's pulling me over!” Jesse cried. “What do I do?”

TJ looked out the back window. “Stay cool, Jesse,” he said. “Just stay cool.”

Jesse stopped the car on the side of the road. Through his rearview mirror, he watched the police officer get out of his car and approach them. The officer held a flashlight in his left hand, while his right hand rested on his gun. Jesse rolled down his window and looked up at him.

“Evening. My name's Officer Padilla. I'm with the San Antonio Police Department.” The officer's voice was calm but authoritative. “I saw you making furtive movements in there. What I mean by that is that I saw you moving around in your car. Is there anything in the vehicle I should know about?”

“No, sir,” Jesse said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I was taking off my mask. We just left a Halloween party.”

The officer shone his flashlight in the car. It was obvious from everyone's costumes that Jesse was being truthful. “May I see your driver's license and proof of insurance?”

As Jesse reached for his wallet, he explained that all he had was a learner's permit.

TJ leaned forward and said, “My insurance card's in the glove compartment, Officer. Listen, my name's Tristan Masters and I wrestle for American . . . ”

“I'll talk to you in a minute,” Officer Padilla interrupted. He studied Jesse's learner's permit. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” he asked.

“Nothing, sir,” Jesse said. “I mean, not really.”

“What do you mean, not really?” Officer Padilla asked gruffly. “It's a simple question. Either you had something to drink or you didn't. There's no ‘not really.'”

“Hey, you don't have to talk that way to my friend,” TJ said. “If you have a problem, you take it up with me. I own the car.”

The officer scowled at TJ. “Shut your mouth, son, or you're gonna find yourself in a heap of trouble.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” TJ shot back. “I'm a wrestling superstar on ACW.”

“Yeah, they're both wrestlers,” Donna said. “That's TJ Masters back there and this is Sweet Brown Coffey.”

TJ undid his seatbelt. He gripped the front-seat headrest and stretched himself up. “I fight with the big dogs,” he continued in his drunken rant. “You think you're bad 'cause you've got a badge and a gun? Why don't you take that badge and gun off and get in the ring with me? Then we'll see how bad you really are.”

Officer Padilla came around TJ's side of the car and wrenched the door open. “Get out, tough guy.”

With a smirk on his face, TJ stepped out of the car.

“Put your hands on top of your head and interlace your fingers.”

TJ complied but continued to smirk, even laugh, as the officer locked him in handcuffs. “You're nobody to me,” TJ taunted. “I'm a celebrity. You're just a rent-a-cop. How much money do you make? Minimum wage?”

“Shut your mouth and be quiet,” the officer said. He sat TJ on the curb. Then he told everyone else to get out of the car.

Jesse and Donna stepped out. Arlene nudged Kristi with her arm, but she didn't move. “I think my friend's asleep.”

“Well, wake her up!” the officer growled.

Kristi finally stirred, and Arlene helped her out of the car. Officer Padilla asked for everyone's ID. Then he ordered them to sit on the curb next to TJ with their hands on their knees, and he returned to his car with their IDs.

While they waited, TJ cursed under his breath. Kristi slouched against Arlene and went back to sleep.

Donna studied Jesse's face and asked, “How old are you?”

He lowered his head and muttered, “Sixteen. But I'll be seventeen in December.”

“You hooked me up with a kid?” Donna fumed, looking piercingly over at TJ. “You think I go for junior high boys?”

“Actually I'm in high school,” Jesse said.

“And you think that's supposed to make it all right?” Donna replied, her voice rising with irritation. Returning her attention to TJ, she said, “You beat everything, TJ, you know that? You told me you were going to fix me up with an ACW wrestler, but instead I ended up with a kid.”

A few minutes later, a police paddy wagon showed up. Two officers got out and Officer Padilla spoke with them briefly. Then he told the group, “You're all being arrested for public intoxication.”

“But officer, I wasn't drinking!” Jesse cried. “Honest. I just took a sip, that's all.” Officer Padilla ignored him, and they were all handcuffed. The other officers opened the rear doors of the white van and situated TJ and the girls inside.

“You ride with me,” Officer Padilla told Jesse. He took him to his squad car and sat him in the back.

Feeling helpless and terrified, Jesse hunched over and shuddered. Tears spilled down his face. How was he going to explain this to his grandparents? To his mother? Oh, god, to his father? He had specifically warned him to stay away from TJ. What would he do when he learned that Jesse had deliberately disobeyed him? That he had been arrested?

Snot streamed out of Jesse's nose. He tried to wipe it off with his shoulder, but his hands were tightly bound behind him, and he couldn't reach.

He watched the police van as it drove in front of the squad car. Jesse thought about Donna, and the loathsome look she had on her face when she discovered who she had spent the evening with. Jesse wished he had never agreed to drive to the ghost tracks. He should have insisted that TJ take him home. He could have capped the evening by giving Donna a long, goodnight kiss. He wouldn't even have had to remove his mask, and Donna never would have known what he looked like.

Jesse wondered what would happen to TJ and the girls. Who would bail them out? Who would bail
him
out? On TV cop shows, prisoners were always allowed to make one phone call. Jesse would have to call his grandparents to get him out of jail because his father was out of town, thank goodness.

“You're not really a wrestler, are you?” Officer Padilla asked Jesse.

“No, sir, I'm not. But my father is. He wrestles for American Championship Wrestling as the Angel of Death.”

Officer Padilla cracked a smile. “Is that right? I know who he is. I've been watching the Angel of Death wrestle since I was a kid. He even paid a visit to the station a couple of years ago, and I got his autograph.”

Jesse remembered that day. Sara's dad had invited Jesse's father to the police station, and Sara and Jesse went with them. Jesse might even have met Officer Padilla because Sara's dad had introduced him to lots of police officers.

“What are you doing with that group, anyway?” Officer Padilla asked. “Aren't you a little young to be partying with them?”

Jesse sniffled, trying, but failing to keep his nose from running. “TJ Masters is a friend of mine. He invited me to a Halloween party. But I wasn't drinking, sir. Please believe me. I wasn't!” Jesse bawled loudly and he heaved heavy sobs.

Officer Padilla remained silent for a few moments. Then he said, “Son, I'm going to do you a favor. I'll take you to the station, but I won't book you. I'll have someone there call your dad to pick you up.”

“Can't you just take me home?” Jesse pleaded. “Please? I won't ever do anything like this again.”

More silence. Then: “You know, I'm supposed to fill out a juvenile release form on you,” Officer Padilla said, “but I'm going to let it go this time. If I were you, though, I'd be a lot more careful picking out who I associate out with. Now, where do you live?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I
t was eleven-thirty Sunday morning when Jesse finally got out of bed. His grandparents had excused him from going to church because he had come in so late.

He picked up his phone and called TJ but got no response. He sent him a text. Again, nothing. TJ was probably still in jail.

Jesse made his way to the kitchen where he served himself a bowl of Cheerios and a glass of orange juice. While he ate, the events from the night before floated through his mind. The whole experience felt surreal, dream-like. Jesse cringed when he thought about how close he had come to landing in jail. He had been lucky that he had been stopped by a police officer who turned out to be a wrestling fan and decided to give him a break.

When the squad car stopped in front of Jesse's house, Pollo began to bark. Jesse feared that his grandparents would peek out the window and see the officer uncuffing him. Thankfully his grandfather had already gone to bed, and his grandmother had dozed off on the couch in front of the TV, waiting for him.

All she asked when Jesse walked in the house was, “How was the party?”

“Great!” he replied, not needing to lie about which party he had gone to.

Jesse's stress and anxiety over his ordeal somehow triggered a nervous laugh. He couldn't believe how gutsy TJ had been to challenge the officer to a fight.

“Why don't you take that badge and gun off and get in the ring with me? Then we'll see how bad you really are.”

Calling out Judson Tanner was one thing, but the police!

“I'm a celebrity. You're just a rent-a-cop.”

A wave of laughter exploded out of Jesse's mouth, and milk squirted through his nose. He didn't know why he was laughing. There was nothing funny about his nightmarish experience. But there was something about TJ's nerve and brashness that he found fascinating and exciting. What was it TJ had said?
“If you always follow the rules, you'll miss all the fun.”

Jesse tried calling him again. Still no answer. He hoped TJ wasn't mad at him. In a way, Jesse blamed himself for what happened. He was the one wearing the mask that had alarmed the police officer. He was the one who had insisted on driving the car because he wanted to look cool and grown up in front of Donna. But how cool and grown up did he look, sitting on the curb with his mask off, whimpering like a little girl?

Monday morning, Jesse's troubles continued. While he was taking his books out of his locker, Riley King and Sara Young approached him.

Sara bunched her fists on her hips and stared at Jesse through narrow eyes. “I can't believe you beat up Bucky Henderson,” she said.

Jesse looked at Riley, then at Sara. “I didn't beat him up.”

“So Riley and everyone else on the team made up that story?” Sara asked. “Is that what you're saying?”

Riley chortled. “Say, Baron. If you're looking for someone else to beat up, I hear they've got some pretty tough kindergarteners at the elementary school across from the field house.”

Sara took Riley's hand and drew him close, as if they were a united force against a common enemy. “You're disgusting, Jesse,” she said. “You know that? I can't believe I ever went out with you.”

Reeling from the surprise attack, Jesse said, “Wait, Sara. Let me explain.”

“There's nothing to explain, Jesse. Everybody knows what you did.”

“What a loser,” Riley said.

As upset as Sara was, Jesse also noticed a look of hurt and disappointment on her face. They had once been friends. They had shared secrets. But Sara must have thought she was seeing a side of Jesse that he had never revealed to her.

“My dad was right about you,” she said. “You're just like your father, with that same explosive, out-of-control temper.”

“Come on, babe,” Riley said. “We've got better things to do than to waste our time with this loser.” As they walked away, Riley looked back at Jesse and formed an L on his forehead with his thumb and forefinger.

At that moment, Jesse heard a voice over his shoulder say, “I don't know much about you, Jessup, but one thing I can say for certain. You're not the most popular guy in school.”

He turned and saw Wally Morúa standing behind him. “Did those bad children try to take away your happy thoughts?” she asked.