Soul Fire (13 page)

I shrugged.

He tried again. “What do you do when you’re not at the pool?”

I recalled telling him that I was home schooled. “Study, hang out with friends, swim competitions, skating, usual stuff. And you?”

“You skate?”

“Yeah. Since I could walk. Had to choose between figure skating and swimming. Not enough time or money for both. So, rather than leave figure skating behind—because I really love it—I joined the Precision Team. Doesn’t require the same commitment. That way, I could focus on swimming.” At least I used to, I thought miserably. “How about you?”

“School work, hang out at home. Exercise a lot trying to get my legs back.”

I tried not to wince. “Friends?”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. Guys from the team drop by less and less. Same with friends from school. Except Mole.”

I smiled.
Mole
. I remembered Justin describing his best friend to me. “What would we do without our
bests?”

“No kidding. He’s saved me more than once.”

“
Saved?”

“Saved. There have been times these last months when I virtually lost myself. If it hadn’t been for Mole,” he paused, “and one other thing,” he looked at me for a few beats before continuing, “I don’t know what would have happened to me.”

“Can I ask what the
other thing
was?”

“Maybe some day.”

I nodded, understanding. “I feel the same way about Celeste. She’s my
best.
She’s always there for me. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her. She’s like a sister.”

“Exactly.” He fidgeted with the stir stick. “You going out with anyone?”

I sat back, stunned. Uh-oh. What kind of question was that? I could feel my lungs shrinking again. “Nope.” I didn’t want to tell him it had been a year since Jay and I had broken up. “You?”

“Not really.”

“You either are or you aren’t,” I explained to him. “There’s no middle ground.”

“I suppose that's true. I went out with this chick, Jessica, for almost two years. She hung around after the accident thinking I would recover and get back on the ice. I was her big star. More like her big
money
star. She imagined a future with me that included huge spending power, parties, fun, and fame. I guess reality finally struck. It wasn’t going to happen like she’d hoped, so she dumped me for another player. Our goalie, believe it or not. Poor sucker.”

Without thinking, I reached for his hand. “Sorry, Justin.” What had I just done? I tried to pull back, but he gripped my finger, his eyes on mine, questioningly. They say there’s electricity between two people who are meant to be together. If that’s the case, we had to be generating at least 60 amps. My entire arm was crackling, my heart was thundering, and my whole body tingled from head to toe.
Did he feel it? Is that why he’s staring at me so strangely?
He put his other hand over mine and I almost fell off the chair. I had to sit up straighter to be able to breathe at all.

“How do you study?” he asked suddenly.

“Home. Alone.” Hmmn, wasn’t that a movie?

“I usually go to the library. You know, to get out of the house. I’m going there in a few minutes. Want to come?”

I glanced up at the clock on the wall. I had promised Mom I would be home by three and it was now after two. I wanted to go with all my heart. Being near him felt so good. Actually, I felt a whole lot more than that, but I would try to sort that out later. I heard myself say, “I can’t today. I’d like to though. How about Tuesday, after the pool?”

“Tuesday then. Want to put my number in your phone, just in case you’d like to get together before?”

“Uh, I don’t have my phone with me. Maybe jot it down.”

I saw Celeste hovering by the candy dispenser and motioned her over. “We should be going,” I said to Justin. “Can we drop you somewhere? Celeste has her car here.”

“No, thanks.” He glanced her way. “My truck’s outside. He saw my surprised expression and added, “We made adjustments to it so I can drive.”

I nodded. “Tuesday then.” He let go of my hand and just like that, my heart rate fell off, and I felt cold.

Len Drake, principal of Mount Olympic High, was a man who shifted with the tide. I was never sure of his position on anything, until today. He sat back in his chair, his soft white hands folded nicely in his lap, his myopic eyes darting from my father to my mother, as he appeared to listen to them.

My school counselor, Sue Latimer, twisted uncomfortably in her chair. She adjusted and re-adjusted her glasses, and appeared to want to say something, but so far, she hadn’t uttered a word. Drake had done the talking. Nevertheless, together they formed a united front on the business side of the principal’s massive, uncluttered oak desk.

I was temporarily off school. Celeste had brought home everything I needed to keep up with my studies. Meanwhile, my parents were trying to decide on the next step. They were stunned and angered by the fact that I had been targeted and injured twice on school property. They only knew about the half of it. There was no way I was going to tell them about the name-calling, paper balls, nasty notes, and so on. So humiliating.

Dad was growing impatient with Mr. Drake and was demanding answers. When none were forthcoming, sheer frustration sent his normally subdued voice booming across the principal’s office. “Something needs to be done, Drake. Now!”

The principal jumped, straightened his red tie, and refolded his hands. Neither he, nor Sue Latimer could offer a resolution to my problems and they had no suggestions. In fact, they seemed reluctant to do anything about the situation because they didn’t seem to think there was ‘
a situation’
.

Drake cleared his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, aside from these two unusual incidents involving your daughter, we don’t have a big issue here. Our school is quite safe. We have an excellent anti-bulling program in place. With nearly three thousand students and a shortage of staff members, we can’t monitor every student. We do have cameras and support services to aid us. Overall, I think we have a great track record for addressing issues, as rare as they are.”

“And what have you done to address the
issues
and
injuries
to my daughter?” Dad asked, his tone icy.

Drake cleared his throat. “I spoke to Mako after the incident on the school grounds. The boy is adamant it was an accident. He was skipping rocks as he walked, and one went astray. No harm intended.”

Dad responded drily, “We both know better than that, Drake. Try skipping round golf ball sized rocks across grass. If you settled for that answer, then there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

Drake pulled his glasses off and reached for a tissue to polish them. Unruffled, he continued, “And regarding that unfortunate incident in the math class,” he added, without acknowledging what my father had just said, “I questioned young Rand O’Riley. He insists your daughter tripped over the desk leg. I checked that out with the math teacher, but unfortunately, Mr. Harrison wasn’t in the classroom at the time and didn’t see what transpired.”

I jumped up. “You’re covering up for those two guys. Why? Why are you doing that?”

He peered up at me and frowned. “I’m not appreciative of those kind of remarks, Young Lady.”

I choked out, “I can’t believe you’re pretending there isn’t a problem. By ignoring physical injuries, you’re actually encouraging violence in this school. And you’re making it unsafe for those of us who are being targeted.” I was so enraged, I shook. He gazed at me with indifference.

Mom tried a different approach. “Mr. Drake, this facility has an onus to provide a safe environment for its students. To do that, you and your staff need to take a proactive role… get involved. Surely, you can come up with a plan for providing some kind of safe zone within the school and on its grounds?”

“This school is safe, Mrs. Cameron. Aside from these two, as I said, unusual incidents involving your daughter, we have an impeccable track record. And, as I said, we have a good anti-bulling program in place.” He glanced down at Sue Latimer. “Don’t you agree, Miss Latimer?”

My counselor’s complexion had taken on a deep red hue. “I don’t think—“

“Now,” Drake broke in, turning back to my parents. “If you don’t mind—”

I moved forward, determined to corner him. “What about the others that have been injured by Mako and his gang? What about past hospitalizations? What about Leon Knight? He almost died! And it’s not just the gang members doing the bullying. The problem is, you refuse to see it!” My face burned.

Drake’s tissue floated into the trash as he calmly put his glasses back on and stood up. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron,” he said nodding to each of my parents and ignoring me, “I’m sorry that I don’t have more time to discuss this with you, but Miss Latimer and I are late for a meeting.” He walked to the office door and motioned my parents through it.

Dad stepped in front of him. “Something’s wrong here, Drake. Either you have your head in the ground, or you’re covering for someone…”

“Or both,” I said, marching past them.

My parents and I left angrier than when we arrived. When we got in the car, Dad pulled out of the lot and pointed the car toward town. I had a bad feeling.

Let things cool,
Delta had said. “Where are we going, Dad?”

“Police.”

I popped the seatbelt and leaned forward from the back seat. “Dad, we need to think about this. Can you pull over for a sec?”

He kept going.

“Dad? Please.”

Reluctantly, he pulled off the road, his anger subsiding. I said to him, “Delta warned me about the danger of provoking the Tarantulas. Mako is a Tarantula. They have a track record for retaliation that goes way beyond the school grounds.”

Dad’s eyes found mine in the rear view mirror. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m saying we should think this through. Let’s say you press charges against Mako. Do you think the gang will be pleased about that? Do you think that they’re not going to have a single malicious thought about our family? Do you think that they’re NOT going to want to get even with us for doing that?" I noticed that he wasn't convinced, so I added: "Last year a parent went to the police. The next day his sister was scooped into one of the Tarantula’s cars and beaten. I’m just saying, who knows what they would do to us, but Mom’s got her daycare and then there’s Anika…”

Dad turned around in his seat. “They should be charged, Ashla, if that’s what it takes. Drake has his head…you know where. Somebody has to do something.”

Mom was gaping at me. “Bryan, I think Ashla’s right. We need to give this more thought before going to the police. We don’t want to do anything to provoke these guys. But I do think we should make a complaint to the school board.”

My parents were blown away by what was happening to me. Neither could grasp the true enormity of my situation. They had no experience with bullying—it was something that happened to
other
kids. Even my own experience, previous to this, had been limited to watching what those
other
kids had endured. Truth was, I always thought bullying was the worst thing that could happen to anyone. Once you’re targeted, there is no way out, no help, no rescue, and no safe haven. You can be attacked anywhere, anytime. Even at home. I was afraid of that happening to me, to my parents, to Anika, and to the daycare children.

One thing was certain: if Delta was right, this would continue, it would worsen, it would become intolerable, and it would eventually destroy us, unless we do something to get out of harm’s way. Yet, I had no answers and no ideas. The school was denying it, the police don’t want to hear about it, and there was no one and nowhere to turn.

Dad turned the car around.

As we drove home, I agonized over how this whole thing had snowballed. Because of me, my closest friends in this world, Celeste, Tara, and Brenna, were at risk. They were still in school. If Dad had laid those charges, the Tarantulas could, and likely would, go after them as well. Not to say that wouldn’t happen anyway.

According to Celeste, Delta had not returned to school since the fight. It was clear that Delta was considered a traitor. I shuddered. I could only hope they never caught up with him. He too was in terrible danger because of me.

Worse, there was my family to think about. I couldn’t bear the thought of them being targeted and hurt. That thought was horrific.

Whatever happened, I had to make sure the gang’s focus didn’t spread to others. I had to keep it on me and not let it hurt those I loved and cared about. I swallowed a huge lump in my throat.

My father’s face, normally a healthy tan color, was flushed, telling me he was hot about something. Of course, it was usually related to my accident, so I cringed thinking of what might be coming. He caught my eye and slammed a wad of legal papers down on the table. “Here. Read every sentence. Make sure it’s accurate. I don’t want those people getting off b’cause of some ridiculous mistake.” He was wearing his gray suit, having come home early for the sole purpose of providing me with twenty plus pages of legal reading. I was sitting on the exercise chair, working through leg lifts, and made no move for the papers. That irritated him. “Ya hear what ah said, Son? Ah need these back by tomorrow morning,
before
ah leave.” When he was pissed, his southern drawl really kicked in.

I gritted my teeth and tried to stay cool. We’d had this conversation before. “There’s no need to sue the Camerons. There’s absolutely nothing to gain by it. They have no money and from what I hear, things are tough enough for them.”

He clenched his meaty fists. “And how ’n the hell yawl know that? Heh? They got a house. They got equity, so they’ll pay. They’re going ta get what’s coming to ‘em.”

I let my feet rest on the floor. “Then, you’ll have to do it without me. This is all about revenge for you. Not exactly a noble objective.”

“You feel
noble,
settin’ in your wheelchair lookin’ down the road at a future in some office somewhere? You were a star, Son. The best. Bound for the NHL It was darn hard work gettin’ ya to that point. Your mother gave up her own life shuttling you back and forth to the rink at all hours since you were knee high. Hell, we all gave up a lot. And what for?
Nothin’ that’s what.
Thanks to those people.
Yawl are finished for hockey. Ya’ll never play again. Hell, ya’ll be lucky if you can even walk properly.”