Chapter 9 #2
“Hey,” Rick said, clearing his throat. “Ms. Macnamara. How’s it…uh…going?”
Ms. Macnamara sniffed, absently fishing a tissue out of her pocket. “I’m surprised to see you two here. Not exactly your scene, is it?”
“We’re trying to widen our horizons,” Martina said. “Get more into the school spirit.” She looked up at him. “Aren’t we, Rick?”
Rick kept his face expressionless as Martina spouted that absolutely whopping piece of fiction. “Yeah.” He raised his fist like he was about to knock on an invisible door. “Go, Wildcats.”
Ms. Macnamara’s face puckered. “Sure. You two want cider, I guess?” She filled two paper cups, smacked lids on them, and slid them over. “Here you go.”
Rick picked his up and shifted to walk away, very ready to retreat—Nika could have his cider if she wanted—only to stop when Martina’s hand shot out to grab his hoodie sleeve.
“Actually, could we get two more? Two of our friends are in the band. They have to play a few more songs and may not have time to get their own, so we told them we’d grab cups for them.”
Before Ms. Macnamara could answer, the volunteer next to them, Mrs. Haysmith, cut in, her voice prim. “We’re only supposed to hand out one per person—”
Ms. Macnamara frowned at her. “It’s cider, not precious jewels. I hardly think they’re going to hoard it, Lauren.”
Mrs. Haysmith’s expression softened, and she smiled. “You’re right—besides, it’s very thoughtful of them.” She handed them two cups from her side of the table. “You go right on up, before they get cold. If anyone else in the band wants any, you let me know, okay?”
Martina and Rick thanked them both, but Ms. Macnamara was already waving them off, looking at the next in line.
They walked away quickly, not arguing.
“At least she didn’t look at us funny this time. Maybe she’s realized we had nothing to do with it?” He sipped the cup in his right hand. “Or maybe not.” He screwed up his face in disgust. “Ugh, sugar-free. Why does this stuff always taste like poison?”
Martina snuck a look back at Ms. Macnamara. “I don’t know. I think it’s more that she’s sad. She’s taking Mr. Stephens’s death really hard.”
He took another drink.
Martina snorted a laugh. “My dude, in the future, if things taste like poison, don’t drink them. We don’t drink poison.”
“You’re no fun.” He took another sip and grimaced. “How much do we want to drink this?”
Martina shrugged. “It’s warm.” They waited at the bottom while the band finished up their last song. “And it’s an excuse. You go give Nika some apple cider like the thoughtful, attentive person you are while I go deliver mine to Camryn.”
Rick looked down at her. “You’re going to rule the world someday.”
Martina’s face scrunched up in distaste. “Too much work. No thank you.”
“Supervillain, then. We can get you a cat to pet and a secret underground lair.”
“Less red tape, but still a lot of work. Stop stalling.” She nudged him with her elbow before navigating the steps that would take her up to Camryn. He followed her, only to halt a short distance away from his goal.
Rick stared at Nika and tried to convince his legs to move forward.
They didn’t seem inclined to listen to him.
Much like the rest of his body, they had decided it was best to freeze in abject panic.
He considered, for the briefest, brightest moments, dropping the ciders and driving straight to Canada.
He could start over. Get a new name. Learn how to…
His brain blanked as he tried to think of something, anything, that Canadians did for work.
He assumed they did a lot. Maybe they needed a partially trained mechanic?
“Rick? Are you okay?”
Rick blinked, coming back to the moment to find Nika watching him with a concerned expression. “What?”
“Are you okay?” Nika asked carefully, probably because he’d been staring at her like an unhinged person.
“Sorry, I was thinking about Canada.”
If Nika thought this was weird, she didn’t show it. “What about Canada?”
“What do people do for work?”
She pursed her mouth, thinking. “I’m not sure. It’s quite a large country, and I assume it would depend on what area of Canada you’re looking at. Why do you ask?”
“I’m thinking of moving there,” Rick said, thrusting a cup forward. “Here. I brought you some cider.”
Nika perked up. “You did?” She nudged the big blond kid sitting next to her. “Jonas, move over.” The boy scooched obligingly along the bench, not looking away from his conversation with the boy next to him. Nika patted the now empty space. “Sit.”
Rick sat, honestly grateful for some kind of direction.
“Thank you for the cider.” Nika sipped it, somehow not making a face at all. “Why Canada?”
“Fresh start,” Rick said. “Plus, they have moose. Mooses?”
“Moose,” Nika said. “They’re quite dangerous, you know.”
“Are they?” Rick forgot himself enough to sip his own cider and instantly regretted it.
“Oh, yes.” Nika said this with perhaps too much enthusiasm for most people, but Rick, having seen his little sister go into absolute raptures over shark facts, barely noticed.
“They can become aggressive, and they’re very large, so if you hit one with a car, you’re done for.
People think they’re cute, so they don’t give them the respect they give bears. ”
“Huh,” Rick said. “I didn’t know that.”
Nika gave him a small smile. “They’re responsible for more human injuries and deaths than brown and black bears combined. You should tell Dani that. If she wants more animal facts.”
“Always,” Rick said. “I think it’s a little unfair that they’re calling the moose responsible for the deaths. It’s not like they’re jumping in front of cars and running after tourists.”
Nika shrugged. “Animals often get blamed for human behavior.”
The strange and delicate joy Rick had been experiencing at this back-and-forth suddenly drained out of him. He tore at the little paper sleeve holding his cup. “I know what that’s like.”
Her mouth twisted down at the corner with sympathy. “I bet you do.” She gave the cider another delicate sip. “Zara texted me earlier. She’s going to see if she can find the original yearbook files. See when they were switched and maybe give us a timeline.”
“That’s smart.” Rick tore another chunk off the paper sleeve. “I know for sure that I wasn’t supposed to be on the original yearbook page.”
“Why not?” She seemed genuinely curious, as if she couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t be included.
He crumpled the piece of paper into a little ball. “Not popular, not in a club or a sport or…anything. Nothing interesting about me, really.”
Nika frowned at this, her mouth opening to say something, but Rick never got a chance to hear what. Mrs. Angeletti, the music teacher, clapped her hands. “Time’s up. Get ready for the next half.”
Nika smiled at him apologetically. “Sorry. Thanks again. For the cider.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, hoping he wasn’t blushing.
“It’s no big deal. Go get ’em, Moose.” Rick winced the second the name was out of his mouth.
Moose? What girl wanted to be called Moose?
He covered his face with his hand. “I’m sorry.
I just meant, like, in a go get ’em kind of way.
Like calling someone Tiger, only—never mind. Sorry.”
He dropped his hand only to find not an angry, scowling Nika, but a beaming one. “Thanks, Rick.”
Surprised at his luck, but not trusting himself to utter another single word, he gave a quick wave and bolted for his seat.
—
Rick asked Martina how it had gone with Camryn before he even sat down. This was more of a defensive move than anything. Martina, he was sure, had been a charming ball of sunshine that Camryn had no doubt basked in during their short exchange.
It didn’t really work, because as soon as she confirmed that it had gone well and that plans to hang out had been tentatively made, she immediately turned the spotlight back on him. “How did it go?”
“I called her Moose.”
Martina eyed him. “And yet you’re not dead. Of course, the night’s still young.”
“She seemed to like it? I don’t know.” He scrubbed at the back of his head. “Why is this so hard?”
“I know,” Martina said sympathetically. “After spending my adolescence with teenage boys, I honestly wonder how the human species has managed to continue.”
Rick shrugged. “I wish I could argue with you, but I can’t.” He watched Landon down on the field, leading the squad in a cheer, while Paxton stood a few feet back, camera obscuring his features. “Some seem to do better than others, though.”
Martina scoffed. “Landon’s all right, but you’re worth ten of Paxton.”
Rick wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her in for a hug. “Thanks, Teeny.”
“You’re not welcome.” She batted him away. “Not if it means I end up in your armpit.”
They settled in to watch the rest of the game, or at least to occasionally glance at the field.
It felt like an eternity later when the overhead speakers announced the final scores, causing their side to erupt into cheers.
The bleachers began disgorging the occupants, the band playing their final song.
Rick waited for his turn to leave, trying to shake some feeling back into his legs.
Down on the field, the cheerleaders and the team posed while Paxton snapped shots of their victorious smiles.
Martina tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s hang out for a bit. Maybe we can say goodbye?”
“Sure.” Rick wouldn’t mind talking to Nika a little more, and it wasn’t like he could become more of a Popsicle.
They slowly made it down the steps, stepping off to the side near the entrance to the girls’ locker room.
Five minutes later, most of the families were gone, except for a handful of parents waiting for their kids.
A few groups of people stood around talking, soon to be shooed off by security.
It was quieter now, no music, only the chatter of people and the scent of stale popcorn wafting over from the concession area.
Then Rick heard a scream. It was muffled, coming from the girls’ locker room.
If he’d been farther away, he probably wouldn’t have caught the sound.
His pulse picked up as he recognized the terror in it—the kind of scream that claws its way out of you.
He had turned before he even realized he was moving, scrambling for the door handle, Martina a split second behind him.
He flung the door open, his work boots loud on the floor as he tore around the corner. Rick burst into the main locker room, skidding to a stop so fast Martina ran into him.
The girls’ locker room looked like a lot of locker rooms—concrete floor, tile walls, lockers painted a tired beige color.
There were red benches and showers, and right now, in the middle stood Alexis Vargas.
She was still in her Wildcats uniform, except for her helmet, which she’d dropped onto the floor.
Her eyes were wide, her mouth open. The only noise coming from her was harsh, panting breaths.
She held the head of the Wildcats mascot, Claus, in her shaking hands.
Despite Martina’s muffled curses after she slammed into him, Alexis hadn’t even glanced at them.
All of her attention was on the person sitting in front of her in the Wildcat mascot costume.
They were slumped onto the bench, head back against a support pillar.
Someone had propped a we’re number one foam finger next to them.
And sticking out of the costume…
Sticking out of the mascot costume was Bryce Mackinaw’s sleeping face. Except his lips were a funny bluish-gray color.
Alexis was hyperventilating, her wheezing breath echoing against the tiled walls.
Martina slapped Rick’s arm. “Move.”
Shocked back into action, he ran forward, grabbing Alexis’s shoulders. “Alexis, are you okay?”
“Of course she’s not okay! Look at her!” Martina barked. She put a hand on Bryce’s forehead, only to yank it back.
“Sorry.” Rick gave Alexis a little shake. Her eyes snapped up to his. “Slow down. You’re breathing too fast.”
Alexis gulped a breath. Her focus started to slide back to Bryce.
Rick turned her away. “Nope. Don’t look there. Look at me. Watch me.” He took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out.
Alexis nodded at him, mimicking his movements. Her breath slowed, but she still shook like a small, nervous dog.
Martina stepped up beside them. “We need to call the cops.”
Rick kept breathing slow, but he nodded. “Get them to send an ambulance.”
Martina’s eyes were wide, but otherwise she looked completely calm. Anyone besides Rick or her family would have bought it, but he knew her too well. “Teeny? Ambulance?”
“Yes,” she said, finally getting her phone out of her purse. “Yes, I definitely think he’ll need that.”
Rick’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Good.”
Martina tapped her phone, waking it up. “Because he’s dead.”
“What?” Rick screeched, letting go of his grip on Alexis.
Which was when Alexis’s eyes rolled up as she slid to the ground. Rick scrambled, catching her just before her head hit the floor.