Quarantine #2: The Saints (21 page)

Gates came bursting out of the crowd, riding a wild hog. The animal was giant and muscular and ugly, and it didn’t like having Gates on its back. He held tight to a leash that was choking its neck and he smiled like he was on an amusement park ride.

“I love this guy,” Bart said.

Gates only made it about ten feet into the clearing before he fell off the snarling beast. The hog ran away, back into the
crowd, squealing, and snorting. The crowd parted wherever the hog ran.

Gates got up, still grinning. From where Lucy stood, Gates was framed by the column of fire behind him. He wore a blue pinstripe suit with a crisp white shirt, although they were both stained with dirt now. He pushed back his long white hair.

“Welcome to the party, everybody. You guys like my new pet?” Gates hollered.

The cheering was immediate, and it hurt Lucy’s ears.

“That’s nothin’. Are you ready for the big surprise?” Gates said.

The party cheered again, but they were drowned out by a loud, nasty, echoing gargle that came from deep in the school.

“We got a special delivery last night. Top secret. And, it’s a good one,” Gates said.

The Saints laughed and nodded to each other.

The awful noise rattled like an angry chest cold, like a monster at the bottom of a well. It got louder. Closer. The crowd started to worry, and Lucy was right with them. The wretched, booming growl closed in on them. People backed up further, without urging from the Saints, making the gap in the middle of the quad wider.

Then Lucy saw it. A blur came ripping out of one of the hallways, and rocketed across the cleared dirt road, blowing a froth of dust into the air behind it. For a fragment of a second
the speeding comet was right in front of Lucy, and she could see it clearly.

It was Will on a motorcycle.

The hallway was the barrel of a rifle, and Will was the bullet. He crushed his fingers around the Harley’s handle grips. He’d crossed the quad in a flash, and sped right into the opposite hallway. People scattered ahead. Terrified faces bolted past him, bodies leapt out of the way, kids flattened themselves to the lockers like they were standing on the slim ledge of a high building. The hallway ahead shook in his vision. The bike was alive, vibrating underneath him like a giant buzz saw.

The hall ended at a T-junction with another hallway, and the hard wall rocketed toward him. Will fumbled with the brake, but couldn’t get his fingers around it. He strained, hooked his fingers around the brake lever and the clutch, and squeezed, but he turned the bar a little as he did it, and the bike began to wobble underneath him. He suddenly wished his motorcycle-riding experience was more than playing with his cousin’s dirt bike one weekend. He painted squiggles of rubber across the linoleum floor. The tires shrieked like a hurt animal. Will shifted his weight to right it, but the motorcycle was too heavy.

The bike bucked, angry with him, and threw Will off. He crashed to the floor and the bike crashed on its side right behind him. Will and the bike skidded down the hall like air
hockey pucks. His hoodie and T-shirt ripped away and the slide should have torn his skin up too, but Will had wrapped his entire upper body in duct tape, down to one inch strips around each of his fingers and fingertips.

The heavy bike wasn’t slowing down. It caught up with Will and pushed him forward. The back wheel spun in his face. At least they’d remember him when he was dead.

Will felt the drag of the floor as his body slowed down. The bike cruised to a stop, and pushed him gently into the wall. On the wall opposite Will was a photocopied party poster with his face on it.

Will started laughing, it was just too funny. Not only was this whole idea bat shit crazy, but he started to imagine what the look would have been on David’s face if he had been at this party. He would have had a heart attack.

“Buddy, that was amazing!” Gates said as he ran up. “Are you okay?”

“Think so,” Will said.

Will gave each limb a turn, twisting it or bending the joints. Nothing felt broken, torn, or sprained. Gates grabbed his arm and helped him up.

“You are a maniac!” Gates said and slapped him on top of the shoulders. “People are going nuts out there.”

“It was insane,” Will said, still laughing.

Will pulled off his tattered sweatshirt and shirt. Blood seeped out from tears in his duct tape skin. Together, he and
Gates lifted the bike upright. It was scratched and scuffed, and the gas tank was dented, but the engine still started.

“I wanna ride the handlebars!” Gates shouted over the chugging motor.

Will mounted the bike, and Gates hoisted himself onto the handlebars.

“I can’t see,” Will shouted.

“I’ll be your eyes,” Gates said, glancing back at Will with a mischievous arch of his red-eyed eyebrow.

Will grinned. He eased into the acceleration. They cruised back down the hall. Gates held onto the steering bar and planted his feet on the front tire guard to keep his balance. The people they rode past in the hall were awestruck.

“FASTER!” Gates yelled.

Will cranked his wrist forward and poured on the throttle. Gates barely stayed on the bike as Will sped into the quad. When the crowd saw them, they lost their minds.

Will slowed the bike to a parade pace, he was going to milk every second of it. Gates was on front shaking his fists high for everyone. They cheered. Will revved the engine and they screamed louder.

Will’s smile dropped when he saw Lucy.

She was at the front of the crowd. She wore heavy eyeliner that swooped up in the corners of her eyes like a cat. Her hair was flame red. Her old blue dress was now black and cut to ribbons like she was in a swimsuit calendar. It was full of
holes. More holes than dress. The neckline was a plunging V that nearly reached her belly button. The two sides were held together by paper clip chains. Will stared at her dress in disbelief. The word SLUT was hand embroidered on the dress’s bust, in haphazard, sloppily stitched red thread.

He brought the bike to a short stop right in front of Lucy and put his feet on the ground.

“Aw, come on, lets keep going,” Gates said.

Will ignored Gates. The sight of Lucy in her new threads had rocked his world. He had to play it cool.

“You, uh … I … What the fuck? You’re a Slut,” he said.

“Yup,” she said. Her eyes were cool and calm.

Gates whipped his head around to look at Lucy. His face cramped with irritation and his bad eye flickered.

“Who’s this?” Gates said.

“When were you going to tell me?”

She stayed cool. “Didn’t really see how it was any of your business considering the last thing you said to me. It was so … nice. It was such a really ‘good friend’ thing to say. What was it again?”

Will braced himself.

“Oh, yeah!” Lucy said, then she leveled her eyes at Will. “Fuck off.”

Will leaned the bike on its kickstand and stepped off it, causing Gates to have to jump off the handlebars. Gates dug his finger into his eye with a fierce rub. Perturbed, he looked
around at the crowd that had quieted and was watching intently.

Will stepped to Lucy. She didn’t look happy with him, but even unhappy, she looked fantastic. He hadn’t seen her since the Stairs. Somehow, he had forgotten how perfectly her face fit together. He’d also forgotten the inescapable pull he felt toward her, the ache in his chest that used to oppress him when he was this close to her. All the duct tape and popularity in the school couldn’t protect him from that feeling.

“Look, about that night,” Will said, keeping his voice quiet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Funny, that doesn’t make it feel any less shitty.”

“I was just trying to do the right thing for both of us—”

“Are you guys done?” Gates said. “Come on, Will, let’s go. Don’t let this chick ruin our party.”

The Harley engine grumbled behind him.

“You go ahead without me. I’ll catch up, man,” Will said.

“What, just me?” Gates said.

“You can’t party without your boyfriend?” Lucy said.

Ooohs
erupted all around. Gates took a step toward her, and the Sluts broke through the crowd to flank Lucy. Knives out. Will kept his eyes locked on Lucy. It was clear that this wasn’t what she wanted either.

“Whoa, easy,” Will said. “No need for trouble, now. Let’s chill out, put the weapons away.”

Will gave Gates a stern look to make sure he was on board
with this plan. It was the first time he’d ever stood up to Gates so directly. The anger in Gates’s face scared Will more than the fifteen-odd blades pointed at him. But in a blink, it vanished. Gates went full smile. He stepped back. He threw his arms up in the air dramatically.

“Anybody looking for fun, follow me!” Gates shouted.

Gates mounted the bike and gunned it, roaring away. The crowd closed the gap behind him with cheers, and partying resumed again.

Will turned to face Lucy. Neither of them spoke as the party swirled around them. Will felt at peace standing next to her.

“Should we talk?” Will said.

The tension eased from Lucy’s face. She seemed like she was about to nod, but some Nerd with a pompadour stepped up beside her.

“We’re gonna hit the slip ’n’ slide,” the Nerd said to Lucy.

Will looked him up and down. “That sounds good. Why don’t you get lost?”

“What’d you say?” the Nerd said.

“Bartholomew,” Lucy said quick, stepping between them. “Give me a minute, okay?”

The Nerd glared at Will, then walked away, shaking his head.

“Bartholemew, huh? Your friend has a stupid name.”

She didn’t react.

“Is this part of your new Slut personality? No laughing?”

Lucy twisted her face into a sneer. “No. We were all laughing our asses off a few minutes ago. When you showed up on a motorcycle.”

“Oof,” Will said with a nod.

“Pretty respectable party though,” Lucy said.

Will shrugged. “I had to come up with some way to get you to show up and talk to me again.”

“Yeah, right,” she said and rolled her eyes.

“I knew the best Lucy bait was pizza.”

Lucy laughed. Finally a sign that things between them weren’t actually as bad as they looked, and that they didn’t have to keep acting like they were enemies.

“So, really,” Will said. “Why did you go Slut?”

“Are you really asking, or is this a set up for a joke?”

“I’ll get back to you on the joke, but I gotta be honest, I’m still getting used to the red. I did not see that coming. Like ever.”

“You got a problem with it?”

“I guess not. So, what do you do, just sit around all day cutting the crotch out of your jeans?” Will said, cracking up.

“Oh, I see,” Lucy said. “You still think you’re funny!” She pointed at his duct-taped torso. “Good thing you’ve never grown any body hair or it might hurt to take that tape off.”

“Damn! Slut Lucy doesn’t mess around.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

Lucy held his stare. This was new. She didn’t look away, or do something cute to break the awkward moment. This new
Slut Lucy was right at home with the tension.

“I miss you,” Will said.

Lucy faltered. Will’s emotion seemed to make her nervous. Bart walked over from the spot where he’d been standing, ten feet away.

“Lucy, we should get going if you’re done talking to … this dude,” Bart said.

“Beat it, Jebediah,” Will said.

“It’s Bart,” Bart said.

“Bartholomew,” Lucy said.

“Right, whatever. Don’t you have a barn to raise or something?”

“Will, stop,” Lucy said.

“Why? It’s my party, and this big lump is messing up our vibe.”

“Yeah, well we’re on a date,” Lucy said. “I’ll see you later, Will.”

She walked off with Bart. Bart put his arm around her, and she looked happy to let him. Will watched her red hair disappear in the crowd. It made no sense. The whole school loved him. Why couldn’t she?

Will kicked the dirt. He’d started the night feeling invincible, but a few minutes with Lucy, and it was like she had taken a giant ice cream scoop to his middle, and left a gaping hole behind.

HILARY HAD COME TO SEE P-NUT.

They’d been secretly flirting for almost a year. Anytime he was near, and Sam wasn’t around, P-Nut would wink at her, and blow her kisses, or steal a few moments with her at the market to tell her exactly how he would make love to her. At first, she was offended that he thought he was worthy of her. But he never gave up. And eventually, the fact that he was the only boy to ever approach her like that, when he knew full well Sam would wage war on the Skaters for it, started to turn her on.

Now that she was looking for a new boy, P-Nut was first on her list. She stood in the Skater’s headquarters, the old administrative offices, with a crew of Pretty Ones. P-Nut balanced on the top rung of an aluminum folding ladder above her.

“Hand me that hammer, will ya, perfect?” P-Nut said.

He had the ball of one foot on the rung, his other leg
extended out to the side, keeping his balance. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. P-Nut never wore a shirt. Hilary picked the hammer up from the floor and handed it up to him. He could have grasped it by the head, but he reached further, just to touch her hand.

“Thanks,” he said.

In his other hand, he held a noose that was tied around the neck of a full-size, fully dressed, department store male mannequin. P-Nut hammered the end of the noose into the ceiling, defying gravity by staying on the ladder, and giving a Hilary an anatomy lesson of all the muscles of his torso in the process. The mannequin twisted and turned by the neck, his perfect face frozen in a white-toothed smile. Its hands were reaching out, with open palms, as if it meant no harm. P-Nut gave the nail one last solid whack, then hopped down to the floor.

“What’s that for?” Hilary asked.

“To practice hitting people while you skate past them. Usually we use a duffel bag full of water bottles as a target, but that Gates dude got this for us.”

Gates. Everybody loved to talk about him like he was God’s gift to McKinley, but Hilary prided herself on her taste. She knew the difference between a boy that was built to last, and one that was a fad. Gates didn’t smell like a winner to her. He’d burn out, or screw up, or do something wrong, and he’d end up going down hard.