Unlocked (26 page)

“He can sing?” LaShante collected handfuls of her fine braids and swept them into a ponytail. “Can kids with autism do that?”

“Sometimes.” Ella kept her eyes on the road. “I think Holden hears the music. Maybe more than healthy kids.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, I mean really.” Ella couldn’t overstate the change in
Holden. “He sounds like Michael Buble or something. Seriously. He can sing, and when he does he looks straight at me. Like a melt-your-heart kind of look.”

“Wow.” LaShante raised one eyebrow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for him.”

“Not like that.” Ella laughed, and the sound was lighthearted. “He’s my friend. He’s been my friend since we were three.”

“But he’s cute.” LaShante’s eyes danced. “I mean, come on, girl, he’s the hottest guy at Fulton. Weirdness and all.” She pressed her lips together. “Mmmmm-hmm. And those blue eyes. Straight at you? I don’t know …”

“It’s not like that.” Ella laughed again as she turned into the school parking lot. “But you have to hear him sing. It’s like he’s a different person.”

“Maybe music is the key.” LaShante sat up straighter and adjusted her pale blue turtleneck.

“It is. That’s what I’m saying.” Ella parked the car and turned to her friend. “Music brings him out, it opens him up.”

“So I guess the answer is obvious.” LaShante opened the car door and smiled. “Girl… you gotta find a way to keep the music

going.”

Ella grinned. “Exactly.” She and LaShante hurried out of the car and through the parking lot to the gym. The game was a blowout—Jake and his buddies beaten soundly by the cross-town rivals. During halftime, LaShante bought popcorn and a Sprite and then once she was back in the stands she turned troubled eyes at Ella. “I have to tell you something.”

Ella felt her heartbeat quicken. LaShante didn’t like high school drama anymore than Ella did. Whatever was coming, it was worth talking about. Otherwise LaShante wouldn’t have brought it up. “Something about Krissy or Jenny?”

“No.” LaShante scowled. “About Jake. I heard it this week and
I wanted to text you. But I thought … I thought I’d wait until I could tell you in person.”

“Okay.” Ella felt herself relax. She didn’t care about Jake anymore. There was almost nothing LaShante could tell her that would affect her night one way or the other. “Tell me.”

“He’s telling everyone that you and Holden …” She hesitated, shadows in her eyes. Very little embarrassed LaShante. Of all Ella’s friends, she was the most outspoken. But here, her pretty brown eyes looked unsure about whether she could go on. “He’s telling people you’re hooking up with Holden.” She raised her brow. “Like … all the way, hooking up.” She rolled her eyes. “So I feel terrible joking around about you and him. You know, on the way here.”

A sick feeling slammed into Ella. “Why would he do that?” Ella looked out at the basketball floor. How could she ever have liked Jake Collins? The fact that he’d ever charmed her into thinking he was a good guy made her angry with herself. The Eagles were taking the court, passing the ball around and taking practice shots, warming up for the second half. Even from her place in the stands, Ella could see the cocky smile on Jake’s face.

LaShante sighed, and the look on her face grew uncomfortable once again. “There’s more.”

Ella steeled herself. Whatever it was, she could trust LaShante. And if it meant she needed to tune out on the social scene at Fulton altogether, so be it. She’d already done that, anyway. LaShante and Holden were the only real friends she had—and graduation was only a semester away. Who cared about Jake?

Her friend crossed her arms and made a face. “He’s got a bet going with Sam. Sometime before graduation, he’ll sleep with you—one way or another. Otherwise he owes Sam a hundred bucks.”

“A hundred bucks?” Ella wanted to throw up. Was that all she
was worth to Jake and his boys? A hundred-dollar bet? Suddenly a thought occurred to her. “One way or another?”

“Yeah.” Anger flashed in LaShante’s eyes. “He said if Holden gets you … he wants you too. Sounds like a threat to me.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of the basketball court. “Like maybe you should tell the authorities.”

Jake Collins forcing himself on her? In September, Ella would’ve laughed at the idea. But now… a shiver ran down her arms. She would keep her distance from him. If her mom was involved in her life, she’d go home tonight and tell her, first thing. But her mom didn’t even know her. No, she’d have to look out for herself. She’d keep her distance and stick to spending time with Holden and—once in a while—with LaShante.

Ella was almost glad for another reason to stay away. The longer she was away from the popular crowd of kids, the more she could see the worst of them for what they were. Cocky, arrogant bullies. Between them they had a code of ethics that required mean, mocking behavior. They sat together at lunch and called out mean names to anyone who walked by—kids who were too short or too smart or too fat. Skinny kids like Michael and kids like Holden.

Ella watched the guys run up and down the floor, watched them sub in and out of the game and argue with the coach or the refs. Did any of them wish they could break free the way she had? Wish they could live their own lives and make their own social decisions without having to impress Jake or his guys? Ella had to think so.

Holden wasn’t the only one locked up inside himself.

Ella didn’t see Michael Schwartz until after the game, outside on the school’s front courtyard. Ella and LaShante were talking with some of the other girls, hearing about a party later that night, when Michael exited from the school’s main front doors. He might’ve been practicing with the school band, because he
had his flute case tucked under his arm and he was headed for the bike racks on the edge of the parking lot.

“So Jake’s been hitting on this ugly freshman girl.” Krissy was more giggly than usual. Probably the drinking beforehand. “She’ll be at the party, Ella. You should totally come, girl. I mean, then you could get Jake back to his senses.”

“Yeah, he’s your guy.” Jenny put her hands on her hips. “You two need to figure things out before Christmas break.”

“I don’t like Jake.” Ella was patient, but she wanted to leave. She kept part of her attention on Michael. He looked lonely, troubled. She thought about excusing herself from the girls and talking to him. She remembered to smile. “The freshman girl can have him.”

“Have who?”

She felt someone behind her, and she turned in time to see a freshly showered Jake strutting up. Sam and Ryan were on either side. Ella wanted to scowl at the guys, but she stopped herself. Better to leave without a lot of drama. She met his eyes briefly. “Jake … Sam … Ryan.”

Krissy bounced into the space between them. “Good game, guys. The refs were terrible. You definitely should’ve won!”

“Yeah, that three-pointer was the bomb,” Jenny giggled. “Right girls?”

“Yeah, you know it … I was on tonight.” Jake grinned—his arrogance like an impenetrable force around him. His eyes were on Ella, and her alone. “We’ll get ’em next time.”

Before the other girls could spout off another bit of empty praise, Sam nudged Jake hard in the arm. “Look,” he motioned toward the parking lot. “There’s that freak kid. Goth music boy, remember?”

A sick feeling started in Ella’s stomach. “Leave him alone.” She didn’t say it loud or forcefully, but she said it.

“What’s this?” Jake laughed—the mean sort of laugh that
meant he was about to pick up steam. He kicked lightly nudged Ella’s white tennis shoe with his own. “Don’t tell me you have feelings for Queer Boy too? Him and Holden Harris?” He chuckled louder and shoved Sam’s shoulder. “You hear that?” Sam sneered at Ella. “Coupla freaks.”

Jake moved out from the crowd in Michael’s direction. When he was twenty yards away, he shouted at Michael. “Hey Emo Boy …”

Michael was bent over working on his bike lock, his flute case on the ground beside him. He must’ve been struggling with the combination, because it was taking too long. Once more Ella wanted to run and help him, but that wouldn’t be good. Not with Jake and his gang watching.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Jake’s tone turned mean. Loud and mean. “What’s the problem? Can’t remember your combination?”

Other guys from the basketball team joined Jake, forming a group, laughing and chuckling quietly, approving his attack by their presence. “Freak,” Jake yelled, “what’re you doing here? Why weren’t you at the game?”

“He had flute practice.” Sam used a high-pitch mocking sort of voice. “Like all the gay kids.”

“Hey,” Ella stepped up to the guys and pushed Jake in the shoulder. “Shut up. Leave him alone.”

Jake jerked away from Ella, ignoring her. “That’s it, right?” he shouted, loud enough that other kids, average kids passing by could hear every word. “You’re gay, right? Just come out and say it, already. Guys who play the flute are gay.”

Michael finally worked the lock open and pulled his bike free. He stood and stared at Jake, and for just a moment Ella thought the quiet kid might fight back. Anger flashed in his eyes, an anger they could see clearly in the light of the parking lot. But he must’ve realized he didn’t stand a chance against Jake and his buddies, so he picked up his flute and climbed onto his bike, the case firm against his ribs.

“You see that?” Jake laughed out loud and looked at the other guys. “Emo Boy’s a queer.”

“Jake!” Ella pushed him again. “Stop it.”

This time LaShante separated from the girls and joined her. “You’re such a loser, you know that?” She spat the words. She snapped her fingers at him, her voice loud as she looked him up and down. “On and off the court.”

LaShante’s outburst broke up the moment. The guys stopped laughing and stood quietly, shifting and glancing nervously at each other. Shame fell over all of them, even Jake. Ella’s protest might not have made much of an impact, but LaShante had their attention. She put her hands on her hips and glared at Jake, then Sam and the others. “You oughta’ be ashamed of your sorry selves.” With that she motioned to Ella. “We’re done.”

As they walked off, Ella caught a glimpse of Michael. He was riding away on his bike, one hand on the handlebars, the other tucked in around his flute case. He made his way into the crosswalk and turned left, probably toward his house or apartment. Wherever he lived.

“Idiots.” LaShante was worked up. She walked fast toward the car. “Makes me want to catch up with that kid and offer him a ride. Nobody should be treated like that.”

“Wait!” Ella stopped, and then started again —moving faster than before. “That’s a great idea. We could put his bike in the back.”

They hurried to the car and left the parking lot quickly. Three blocks down the road they caught up to him, and a sense of desperate relief flooded Ella. It wasn’t too late. They could still let the kid know someone cared. That she was sorry for Jake’s behavior. She slowed her car at the next light and pushed a button to roll down the window in her Acura MDX. LaShante did the talking, since Michael was riding up on that side of the car.

“Hey …” She stuck her head out the window, her voice friendly. “Wanna ride?”

Michael looked almost alarmed. Ella leaned over and added her approval. “Really. We can throw your bike in the back.”

Other cars gathered at the stoplight, so they didn’t have long. If Michael wanted a ride, he’d have to say so. LaShante tried again. “Come on … We can pull over.”

Michael’s eyes darted at the other cars, as if maybe he was looking for Jake and the guys in one of the vehicles. He shook his head, his eyes wide. “That’s okay.” Sweat beaded up on his forehead. “I got it. I don’t live far.”

“You sure?” LaShante sounded disappointed. “It’s no trouble.”

The light turned green and Michael started pedaling. “I’m fine.” He nodded once more at them and set off down the street.

LaShante powered the window back up—the breeze was cold for this time of year. “We did what we could.” She shivered and folded her arms, running her hands over her sweater. “Makes me so mad, those guys.” She threw her hands in the air. “Why are they like that? Bullying everyone around them?”

“They’re jerks. You said it.”

Ella’s heart ached. Michael must feel terrible. She thought about maybe stopping and insisting that he get in her car, but then … if Jake and the guys drove by they’d just pick on Michael all the more Monday morning. For getting a ride with a girl.

LaShante was still fuming. “Where’s Jake live? We should go wait for him.” She gritted her teeth, still boiling over what had happened back at the school. “I’d like to be in his driveway when he pulls in and get in his face … let him know what’s up.”

But in the end they decided against that, and Ella took LaShante home. Before she climbed out of the car, LaShante tossed her ponytail of fine braids and jabbed her pointer finger into the dark night air. “If you can be a friend to Holden Harris, then I can be a friend to that Michael kid.” She shook her head,
disgust flooding her tone. “Forget about those jocks. They’re not worth the time.” “They’re not.”

“Plus … I love the flute.” She smiled as she swung her feet onto the curb. “Maybe Michael will let me hear him play.”

Ella liked the idea, and as she pulled away, the picture of LaShante hanging out with Michael Schwartz made her smile. Maybe Michael could actually teach her how to play. Wouldn’t that be something? She and Holden in a play together, and LaShante and Michael playing the flute in the school band. Her happy thoughts faded and anger swelled inside her as she pictured Jake once more, the way he’d treated Michael. The way he was betting he’d treat her sometime before graduation. She shuddered at the idea. It was time for a change around Fulton, and if that change depended on her and LaShante, so be it.

After tonight they were both up to the challenge.

M
ICHAEL
S
CHWARTZ WAS OUT OF BREATH AND SICK TO HIS STOM
ach by the time he rode his bike into the apartment complex at the corner of Walnut and Main. His mom was at the kitchen table as he walked through the front door. She had her head in her hands, a glass of cheap wine beside her.