Authors: Tim Green
THE YELLOW RUBBER BALLS
in the batting cage zipped by Josh like bullets. He blinked and squinted and tried to concentrate, but the only thing he could focus on was the look Rocky gave him at the beginning of practice. The muscular coach didn't say anything, and Josh was sure no one else noticed it, but he also felt sure Rocky had gazed at him a split second longer than normal and that his eyelids had drooped momentarily, like a lizard ready to fall asleep until it suddenly saw something it wanted to eat.
“Get your head out of your behind, LeBlanc!” Moose yelled, feeding another ball into the machine.
Josh swung and dribbled one back at Moose.
“Just lost my groove,” Josh said weakly.
Moose grumbled and barked at Josh one more time
at the end before sending him on to the next drill. Jones held the netting aside so Josh could come out of the cage.
“Don't worry, buddy,” Jones said. “It happens.”
“Thanks, Jonesy,” Josh said.
On his way to the ball-toss station in the far corner of the field, Josh watched Rocky striding toward the concrete stairs. Josh checked the stands for his father, thinking that maybe Rocky was going to talk to him about Josh. But Josh's father was nowhere in sight, and instead of talking to any of the parents who sat watching, Rocky disappeared through the main door, which probably meant he was heading to his office.
Josh turned and jogged over to the ball toss. Ten minutes later, Rocky reappeared in the middle of the field and blew the whistle to signal the end of practice. Josh looked up in the stands and waved to his dad, who had just arrived. But either his father didn't see him or something was wrong. Josh's father stood with his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his Windbreaker, his feet spread apart and his neck bulled back, a somber look on his face.
Rocky growled at the team, telling them they'd better improve tomorrow or they might as well not even go to the tournament on Saturday. Moose called them in, and they gave their “Do it to it” cheer and broke for the locker room.
Josh turned to go. When he heard Rocky call his name in that gruff, raspy voice, Josh's stomach sank like a stone.
He turned and walked slowly toward the coach. Rocky's dark flattop bristles gleamed with hair gel, and his small eyes flickered up and down and around Josh like gnats, without blinking once. Josh's feet scuffed the plastic grass, and the smell of stale sweat filled his nose.
“Yeah, Coach?” Josh asked, swallowing.
“You okay?” Rocky asked, a small smile dancing on his lips.
“Sure,” Josh said, blinking.
Rocky held up Moose's clipboard and said, “'Cause your cage stats stink.”
“Just lost my groove,” Josh said, the words sounding weak.
Rocky pressed his lips tight, turning his mouth into a hatchet gash. Then, without speaking, Rocky squinted at Josh, nodded, and flicked his chin toward the door, following Josh as he walked.
JOSH'S STOMACH FLIPPED NOW,
rising up, and he hurried for the locker room, where he thought he might lose what was left of his lunch. Instead of trailing him inside, Rocky disappeared, and when Josh passed through the metal doorway, the buzz of talk and the friendly banter of the guys settled his gut. He went straight to his locker, pausing for a second because he thought he'd left it shut but now it was open.
Josh looked around uncertainly. He had presumed the days of the older boys hazing him were long gone. As he removed his clothes, he checked them carefully for signs of Atomic Balm or butter or old chewing gum, but nothing was amiss. Josh forgot about it and even joined in on the banter when Jones loudly asked him who he thought more likely to one day be named to
People
magazine's Sexiest Men Alive list, Jones or Tucker.
Josh voted for Tucker and everyone laughed at Jones, who growled and put Josh in a headlock and gave him a nuggy.
Outside the locker room, Josh found his dad standing off by himself in the lobby, holding his cell phone to one ear and plugging the other one with his free hand so he could hear. Josh's dad was talking business and nodding and explaining something in a tone that sounded too much like pleading for Josh to want to hear, so he waved and pointed to the doors to signal that he'd wait outside. His dad nodded, and Josh found the car and climbed into the front seat, watching the entrance, half expecting Rocky to follow him out.
When his father arrived a couple minutes later, Josh asked, “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” his father said, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.
“Because you look kind of mad,” Josh said, toying with the zipper on his backpack.
“Hey, I'm sorry,” his dad said, brightening. “I'm just trying to close a deal is all. It's nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me and the Titans?” Josh asked.
His dad glanced at him and shook his head. “No, why?”
“I justâ¦had a bad day in the batting cage, that's all,” Josh said.
“We all do,” his dad said, and Josh felt better.
They talked about the Titans' chances in the tournament that weekend and that, because of the last U12 tryouts, his dad would miss the first couple games but would make it for the finals on Sunday. When they got home, Josh's mom asked him to watch Laurel while she put the finishing touches on dinner.
After eating, Josh thought about checking in with Jaden but knew she was working on the school paper and told himself he'd call her when he finished his homework. He was nearly done when his cell phone buzzed and vibrated in his pants pocket. He checked and saw Benji's number.
“What's up?” Josh asked, looking at the time and seeing it was just past eight-thirty, later than he realized.
“How's the paper coming?” Benji asked. “You guys getting anything done, or you too busy kissing?”
“Kissing?” Josh said, glaring at the phone as if Benji could see him. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Jaden,” Benji said, making kissing noises into the phone.
“Jaden's at the school,” Josh said.
“I know,” Benji said, still kissing his phone. “You both are.”
“I'm home, meathead,” Josh said.
“No you're not,” Benji said, without the noises. “She forwarded me the text that you sent to her.”
“I just finished math problem forty-seven,” Josh said.
“Is that why you called?”
“Dude,” Benji said, “why'd you text Jaden that you'd meet her there, then?”
“To do what?” Josh asked.
“I don't know;
you
sent her the text,” Benji said. “From earlier.”
“Let me go,” Josh said. “I'm gonna call her.”
“You can't,” Benji said. “She's in the school. There's no reception. She took a break outside when she texted me.”
“You're teasing me. I didn't send her anything,” Josh said, his stomach sinking again.
His phone buzzed and chirped, and he looked at the text Benji forwarded him as they spoke, a text sent from him to Jaden, then from Jaden to Benji.
“
ILL MEET U THERE AT 830 LEAVE DA SIDE DOOR OPEN
”
“You see that?” Benji asked.
Josh saw that the text had been sent from his phone number, even though it wasn't possible. He punched the menu on his phone and brought up his sent items. The mailbox was empty.
“Someone erased everything,” Josh said. “But I never sent that.”
“Then who did?” Benji asked. “Who'd want her to think you were going to meet her at the school?”
Josh's mind spun, and it all came together.
“Oh my God,” Josh said. “Rocky.”
JOSH THREW OPEN HIS
bedroom door and ran down the stairs, telling Benji to get his bike and meet him at the corner of Grant and Turtle. Josh snapped the phone shut and dashed past the family room, where his parents called out to him from the couch.
“Gotta meet Benji,” Josh said without stopping. “Something for school.”
“Back by nine-thirty!” his dad shouted after him.
Josh had already snatched his hooded sweatshirt off its hook and was halfway out the door. He flung open the garage door, jumped on his bike, and pedaled like crazy. Streetlights, parked cars, telephone poles, and houses rushed past him in a blur so fast his eyes watered. His legs began to burn; what power he still had left from the grueling practice was beginning to
fade. Up ahead, he saw Benji standing beside his bike. Josh zipped past him, leaning into the turn and shooting across the street.
“Come on!” he yelled to Benji, heading up Grant Boulevard toward the school.
After a minute, Benji pulled up alongside him, his face glazed with sweat and pedaling like a madman himself.
“What are we doing?” Benji said.
“It's Rocky,” Josh said, puffing. “It's got to be. He took my phone during practice. He must have sent that text, then erased it. He's going to get Jaden.”
Benji knew everything from lunch, and he said, “Wait. Josh. We should call the cops.”
“And tell them what?” Josh asked, seeing the shape of the school up ahead now, rising in the darkness beyond the streetlights.
“I don't know,” Benji said. “That Rocky's going to kill her or something.”
“He's not going to kill her,” Josh said.
“How do you know?” Benji asked.
Josh didn't answer. He set his teeth and kept pedaling. When he saw a break in traffic, he signaled to Benji. They jumped the curb and shot across Grant and into the school driveway. The office for the school paper was in an unused classroom in the back corner across the hall from the science lab. Tall trees cast
dark shadows across the windows and the parking spaces along that side of the school. Two Dumpsters sat slumped like sleeping ogres. Next to them, Josh saw the black Porsche, and he pulled his bike up short.
Benji stopped next to him, breathing hard.
“What do we do?” Benji asked.
Josh climbed off his bike and studied the building. No lights shone from within. But Josh was pretty certain that the room where Jaden should be working on the paper had no outside window.
“Stay here,” Josh said, dropping his bike down in the parking lot and heading for the side entrance.
“And do what?” Benji said, his voice breaking with fear.
“I don't know,” Josh said. “But if he comes out, don't let him leave.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Benji cried, his voice ending in a squeak.
“I don't know. Throw your bike in front of him or something. Just stop him,” Josh said, hissing at Benji as he reached for the door handle.
Josh winced at the sound of the hardware groaning and echoing off into the empty school as the door swung open. He kept going, though, and stepped into the barren entryway, his breathing short and fast, his heart hammering away. He tried to listen but heard nothing over the sound of his own breath. Slowly, he climbed
the small set of stairs and tiptoed into the black, cavernous hallway. With his hands stretched out in front of him, he went left and navigated through the darkness toward the room where Jaden had to be. Halfway down the long hall, with the emptiness of absolute night all around him, he stopped.
That's when he heard footsteps behind himâheavy onesâcoming his way.
JOSH FELT NAKED IN
the middle of the hallway and knew a set of bathrooms wasn't far away. He eased to his right and felt along the wall, his fingers barely brushing the lockers until he felt the empty space. He ducked into the alcove and crouched down, wedging himself under the drinking fountain. The footsteps came, thunking the floor like horse hooves, closer and closerâand with them the sound of door handles being rattled along the wayâuntil they reached the alcove and stopped.
Josh held his breath. He heard Rocky's lungs filling and the soft wheeze as he breathed out through his nose. Rocky stepped toward him. One step. Two steps. Three.
If Josh reached out, he could have touched Rocky's knee.
Suddenly Rocky slammed his hand into the bathroom
door. The handle rattled as he tried to yank it open, then he turned on his heel and kept going down the hall.
“I know you're here!”
Rocky's voice jolted the darkness and Josh gasped, even though the sound of his footsteps kept going.
“I'm not gonna hurt you,” Rocky said, calling out in the empty space. “Not as long as you give me that phone. You give me that phone and we're all set, you and me. Josh, too.”
Josh felt his insides melt at the sound of his name spewing from Rocky's lips, but he slipped out of the alcove anyway, following the enormous coach, even though he had no idea what he could do to stop him. Rocky grabbed the handle to a classroom and shook it. Josh could tell by the sound that it was locked. Rocky kept going, crossing the hall and shaking the handle of the next classroom door.
Josh plastered himself against the wall and moved slowly, following Rocky down the long hallway toward the newspaper office. When Rocky finally came to the last door on the left, Josh froze. He heard the hardware clickâan open door. But when Rocky went to push it in, something blocked him and a small shriek sounded from within.
Rocky's angry roar exploded in Josh's ears, sending another blast of fear through his frame.
“I know you're here!” Rocky yelled. “Give me that
phone!”
By now Josh's eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that he could make out the vague shape of his hulking coach, and he saw him rear back and swing something.
CRACK!
A baseball bat.
Rocky pounded the door over and over, with Jaden inside, somehow blocking the door shut.
Josh thought she might be okay, that the door would hold.
But just as he thought that, the wood began to splinter.