Secrets: The Hero Chronicles (Volume 1) (10 page)

“I think he is, but I’m not positive.”

“Oh yeah, the National Guard has arrived. They have set up several temporary hospitals to get any survivors with critical injuries stable enough for transport.”

“Did you find your parents when you were in town?”

“No, I wasn’t able to find them at what was left of the post office, and I couldn’t get them on the phone. Whenever I call, I get the same message over and over. ‘I’m sorry. All circuits are busy. Please try back later.’ I’m pretty sure they are with my aunt on her farm. At least that is where they were heading this morning. This was their day off. That’s where I’m heading next. Did you get a hold of your folks?”

“One of my parents’ neighbors was here and said my mom was okay, but my dad punctured his lung and broke a couple ribs. They have taken him to Christ Hospital in Cincinnati. I guess they weren’t hit too hard by the quake, so that’s where people have been instructed to go if they can get there.”

“So what are you going to do with the boy? You should leave him with someone.”

“I’m friends with his aunt. She will be here any time. When I talked to her earlier, I told her I would wait with him here until she arrives.”

“You should have sent him with the rest of the kids so you could be with your dad in Cincinnati.”

“No, I need to stay with him and watch after him, especially after everything he’s done.”

“What has he done?”

“He has given us hope.”

**

The bell rang three times, snapping me out of my trance and ending the nightmare. I walked through the hall half-dazed, trying to block out any more of my memories of the earthquake. I found my fifth bell class, math. I was taking Advanced Geometry, which was normally an eleventh grade class. Cora always made sure that each new school I attended challenged me.

I sat in the front row, farthest away from the door. I could avoid eye contact with anyone that came in by sitting in this spot. Plus, I didn’t feel like talking with anyone.

My teacher was Coach Hoff, which was good because I was sure he would recognize me and not put me through the new student routine. The bell rang and everyone sat down. Coach Hoff walked in and started reading the attendance sheet, which he had on a clipboard.

“Hoffman.”

“Here.”

“Kramer.”

“Here.”

He missed me altogether. This was far worse than saying I was new because now I would have to raise my hand and get up in front of the class.

Then I heard a name that I did not want to hear. “Mr. Oliver Rails.”

“Yes, present,” said the smug voice from behind me.

“Finally, Ms. Yelling, are you here?” Coach Hoff called.

“Here.”

I slowly began to raise my hand. “Oh, Mr. Nicholas Keller, are you here?”

“Here,” I mumbled, lowering my hand quickly.

“Sorry about that. New students are at the end of the list and . . .” He continued to talk, but I didn’t hear him. His words ran together like gibberish. He said “new student” a couple more times and said something about football. I could feel the stares of the entire class boring holes into the back of my head. Why couldn’t he have just called my name? Oliver being in the class would be hard enough, and this was not helping things either.

It seemed like Coach Hoff talked about me for hours. Finally, he stopped. “Okay, class, we go to lunch at 11:20. You have twenty-five minutes to eat and get your butts back in the seats, ready to learn. See you back here soon.”

I was farthest away from the door, so I pretended to lean down to get stuff out of my backpack, hoping that most of the class would be gone by the time I got up.

“So, Keller is in our class. Aren’t we lucky?” I looked up to see Oliver with one of his buddies from the team standing just a few feet away from me, blocking the door.

“Hey, Oliver,” I said, pretending like we were friends.

“So how did a little tenth grader get into Advanced Geometry?”

“I took geometry at my last school.”

“Oh, a smarty,” his friend laughed. I tried to walk around them. Oliver stepped in front of me, blocking my escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

My muscles started to tighten and the fire began to burn.

“Keller, you need to be respectful to your superiors, in here and on the field.”

I looked up at Oliver ready for a fight.

“Oliver, leave him alone,” a female voice rang out from behind him. He looked back at her and that was my chance. I walked by him out of the class. I walked down the busy hall quickly, hoping she could buy me enough time to duck into the bathroom to hide. I walked into the first bathroom I could find, locking the stall door. My muscles began to relax as time passed. I grabbed my Tic Tacs from my pocket and popped some into my mouth. The cool taste calmed my stomach. At this rate I would eat a pack a day here.

What was happening to me? The sickness I usually experienced in the mornings was now happening all the time. I never felt this bad when I was younger, and those days were a lot more stressful. I came out of the stall carefully, making sure to see if the coast was clear. I was alone. I stared at my pale face in the mirror and splashed water on it to gain some composure before going back out.

I walked to the cafeteria watching out for Oliver and his buddy. There were hundreds of kids everywhere eating their lunches. Still, I knew that Oliver would not have a hard time finding me if he wanted to. I would have to hide.

A group of students was in front of me. I hurried up to walk with them to get food. When we got to the food court, I was stunned. They had everything you could ever want to eat and more. It was like a bunch of restaurants all put together right in the middle of the cafeteria. There were at least twenty people working the different lunch lines. They were all dressed in long white coats and hair nets. They looked like they should be in labs, not fixing food. All of the food was prepared for you while you waited. No soggy old food; everything was fresh. They had the basics like hamburgers, pizza, sandwiches, salads, and snack food. In addition to those items, they had Mexican food, Chinese food, and a whole buffet line of different hot dishes. It took me five minutes just to decide on the pizza and fries. With everything that had happened before lunch, I only had five minutes left to eat and get back to class.

I sat down at one of the empty tables off to the side of the enormous lunchroom and began to eat quickly.

“What’s your hurry?”

I turned and looked up with a mouth full of pizza. It was her, my angel.

“Now, don’t choke,” she smiled. “You don’t need to hurry so much. Mr. Hoff always comes back from lunch at least ten minutes late.”

I slowly started to chew my food again, unable to look away from her beautiful blue eyes. She batted them at me and turned and walked away. Her voice was unmistakable. The beautiful girl from the stands and the party was the same one who just defended me. I couldn’t believe it. Maybe my luck was changing.

“Hey, Keller! You on this lunch too?” Eric was walking toward me with what looked like half of the buffet items on his tray. Matt, another guy who I kind of knew from the JV team, was right behind him with a bunch of french fries hanging out of his mouth.

“No, I have to be back in a minute.”

Eric flipped the chair around and sat on it backwards. Matt copied him. “Who do you have this period?” Eric asked.

“I have Coach Hoff.”

“You’re lucky,” Matt said with a mouth full of food. “I heard he sometimes doesn’t even come back from lunch. Most of the varsity team has him for math. At least that’s one class they all pass.”

“Well, Keller, it looks like we will have the same lunch after all,” Eric said.

I was done eating my food a few minutes after they sat down. I started to get up. I didn’t want to take the chance that Coach Hoff was going to be on time this year or risk possibly meeting Oliver in the hall.

“See you guys later at football practice!”

When I got back to class there were only a couple of people sitting in their seats. I guess everyone knew Coach Hoff was notoriously late getting back to class after lunch. Some people were eating at their desks, while others lounged in their seats, talking to each other. I sat down and got out my grammar book to do the assignment that Mrs. Wolfe had given us during third period.

I glanced up to see her, my angel, walk into the class. I looked down, afraid I would be caught staring. She had two friends with her. They all sat down right behind me. Her friends were talking about shopping at the mall and what they wanted to do over the weekend. It was painful to listen to them. They sounded like two chipmunks carrying on a conversation. But when she spoke, her voice was different. It wasn’t like a chipmunk; it was more like an instrument, a harp. She didn’t speak as much as her friends. I didn’t think it was humanly possible to talk as much as they did. She talked in short sentences only to get her point across, not like the other two who just wanted to hear themselves talk. Her voice was soothing. I drifted off, totally relaxed listening to her.

Her voice lingered in my head like clouds on a cool autumn day. I had never heard anything that made me feel the way she did. Her voice affected me the same way seeing her did. I felt at peace. For a minute, I forgot all about the earthquake drill and Oliver.

“Okay, class, sorry I’m late. Let’s get down to it.” Coach Hoff walked into class with a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Geometry went quickly. I tried to pay attention to Coach Hoff, but it was useless knowing she was right behind me. The bell rang and the class emptied. I turned to see if she was still in the classroom, but she was gone.

The rest of the day went as fast as the morning. Football practice was shortened. It was raining so hard that we stopped about halfway through, and Coach Miller made us watch tapes of our season opener opponent. I was able to avoid Oliver the whole practice. Eric was not as lucky as I was because Coach Hoff was still upset over their tie and had JV practice the entire time out in the pouring rain. Eric didn’t talk much on the ride home, probably upset that I was so dry.

He dropped me off at the top of my driveway. I ran down the driveway, avoiding the big puddles. Cora was waiting for me at the door with a big plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“So how was your first day?” she asked.

“It was okay.” I took a cookie off the glass platter, dropping my football bag and book bag on the floor.

“What happened?” Cora asked, shutting the door and looking concerned.

“We had an earthquake drill.”

“Oh, Nicholas, I’m so sorry.” She put the plate of cookies down on the small table next to the coat closet. “I didn’t think they would do that here. If I had known, I would have let you skip today for sure. I am sorry you had to relive that day.” Cora gave me a big hug, holding on to me tightly.

When Cora stepped back, I looked at her. “Cora, it’s okay. Really, I’ll be fine.”

“So how was the rest of your day?”

“You know Oliver Rails from football?”

“You mean that bully?”

“Yes. He’s in my geometry class.”

“Did he cause you any trouble?”

“Well, he started to cause some trouble, but . . . it worked itself out.”

“Well, that’s good. So you don’t think he will cause you any more trouble?”

“No, I think everything will be fine.”

She was giving me the “I’ll go switch your class” face.

“Cora, seriously, everything is fine.”

I grabbed my bags, dropped them off in my room, and then headed to the kitchen. Cora was cooking one of her gourmet meals that took hours to make. She had on a light-blue apron that had no spills on it, of course. She had the table set with some rolls in the middle. I grabbed one from the basket and sat down. They were warm and smelled like honey. I put some butter on it and took a bite. The roll melted in my mouth.

“Cora, these rolls are incredible.”

“I’m glad you like them; it’s a new recipe.” She carried over a covered platter to the table and set it down. “Nicholas, I know you haven’t had a good day, but there’s no easy way to say this: you have to quit the football team.”

“What? Are you kidding? We have already been through this. Why?” I demanded.

“You are drawing too much attention to yourself. We have done well so far over the past five years, but we can’t afford to slip up now.”

“At least let me finish the season, and then I will never play football again!”

“No, by the time you are done, you will have set a bunch of school records, and a tenth grader doing it will draw even more attention. Plus, colleges will start scouting you and digging into your past.”

“But I need to go to college.”

“Not on a football scholarship. You don’t need a scholarship; you need to fly under the radar. You know this.”

“That was just a scrimmage. Please, just let me play in the first couple of games, and if I am drawing too much attention, I will stop playing.”

Cora stood in silence.

“Remember, it was just a scrimmage, and the other team was not that good,” I said, hoping to persuade her.