After the bell rang, Charlie and Dylan stayed at their desks. "Have fun!" Cade taunted, grinning as he headed out the door. Charlie scowled at him, then stared at the scratches on his desk, wondering if C and K were still together, and if he'd ever get up the guts to become the "C" of another "C+K" couple. Assuming Katie...
Mr. Duncan cleared his throat and motioned for Charlie to join him at his desk with Dylan. Charlie headed over reluctantly, keeping his distance from Dylan.
To Charlie's frustration, Mr. Duncan turned to Dylan. "Would you like to explain what happened today, Mr. Lewis?"
Charlie glared at Dylan.
Dylan shrugged. "Charlie put a tack on your chair."
Mr. Duncan's eyes bored into Dylan.
"Are you sure that's exactly what happened, Mr. Lewis?"
Charlie held his breath.
Dylan deflated. "Fine, it was me."
Charlie exhaled in relief.
Mr. Duncan just nodded. "It looks like we'll be having lunch together, Mr. Lewis." He turned to Charlie. "Thank you, Mr. Thompson. You are dismissed."
Dylan glared at Charlie, mouthing, "fucking teacher's pet," as Charlie set his test in the tray on Mr. Duncan's desk and walked out the door, relieved that he didn't have to take the fall for Dylan.
Hero or villain? Liberator or destroyer?
Charlie thought about Dylan as he grabbed his backpack and walked out the door. Letterman's jacket that looked a little too big - hand me down. Knock off clothes. Frosted tips. Fancy car that he parked far from everyone and checked anxiously before getting in. The way he paused, thinking, before he decided to go out to lunch with his buddies, which was always a different group than the previous week.
It would be so easy to take him down.
La Princesa was striding toward him, head held high, looking proud, in her vibrant dress. The San Joaquin was pinned in her Ebony hair. She brushed by him and was gone.
He'd been watching her from the first day in eighth grade. She was, besides Katie, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Her clothes were simple but beautiful. She always wore what he knew as a hibiscus, but she called a San Joaquin, in her black hair. He was thrilled when she and Johnny started dating. But he hated how she started treating Katie. Like she was an unruly puppy in need of training.
She was sitting at the front of the bus the first day of his freshman year in the most beautiful dress he'd ever seen. She was still wearing that San Joaquin in her black hair. Her face was as cold as onyx. His eyes were drawn to that beautiful dress. He'd never seen anything like it. The frills. The colorful skirt with beautiful, intricate flowers.
Her dark eyes burned a hole through him as he passed. Charlie shuddered, feeling her gaze piercing him again.
Charlie headed down the worn marble stairs.
As he neared the landing on the first floor, he saw Phil and his pals, Jake and Nate, headed out the school's ornate, heavy oak doors. Charlie caught up with them on the front patio. He could just make out the humming of the lawnmower.
Was that guy ever going to leave?
"Hey, Phil!" Charlie called out to them.
Phil whirled around, a trace of frustration just fading from his boyish face.
"Oh. Hey."
Charlie swallowed hard and looked at the ground, his palms sweating. "Hey, uh.... I just, um, was wondering... if, uh, we're, you know, camping Monday?"
Phil scowled and bit his lip, then glanced at Jake and Nate. His expression lightened. He glanced at the lawnmower boy, who had just emerged from the edge of the building, and got a wide grin. Charlie's eyes widened a bit when Phil put his hand on his shoulder. He hadn't done that in a long time.
Phil grinned and patted Charlie's shoulder, then looked down at Charlie's shirt and started unbuttoning it from the top. Charlie shuddered as Phil's hand descended, but he stayed put. Phil smirked and muttered, "Missed a button. Must have had to dress yourself this morning, Charlie Boy."
Charlie flushed, wondering how long his shirt had been like that. He remained quiet, watching Phil's hand descend and undo his buttons. When Charlie's shirt was completely unbuttoned, Phil held it open slightly. Charlie shivered, chilled. Phil shook his head. "I don't know if you'll fill in at this point. You still doing extra push-ups or anything?"
Charlie shook his head no. He'd given up on this a long time ago.
Phil clicked his tongue, then started buttoning Charlie's shirt up again. "Yes, Charlie Boy. You should definitely plan on going camping on Monday." He buttoned Charlie's shirt up to the top button, ruffled Charlie's hair, then turned and sauntered away with Jake and Nate, who snickered when they were just out of hearing.
Charlie stood on the patio and watched them go, sighing, wondering if he'd ever meet Phil's approval, while irritated that he still cared.
Phil broke off from Jake and Nate and headed toward the lawnmower boy. Charlie frowned. Of course, Phil was going to claim the new guy. The lawnmower boy stopped his mower and smiled as Phil waved to him. Phil visited with the stranger for a few moments. The guy grinned and nodded, and Phil left.
Great. Now Phil has another friend.
Should we warn him about Phil?
Would he believe us after Phil's show?
Charlie sighed as his gaze shifted from the town crammed into the tip of their valley to the gently rounded mountains to the West.
He took a deep breath of the late spring air, fresh with the scent of newly cut lawn. His eyes watered and began to itch behind his contacts, and his nose tickled, but he ignored them. He enjoyed the kiss of the sun on his face. Maybe, just maybe, he and Phil would become friends again. Even if only for a day.
He ignored the unsettling feeling gnawing at the edge of his consciousness like a loose hamster as he gazed at the lawn.
She was there again. Her dress was showing signs of wear. The San Joaquin was still there, but her hair was down. It had never been down before. Tears were streaming down her face.
Johnny was standing there, a troubled look on his face, which was still tanned to the line where he wore his hat.
Charlie couldn't remember why he had even been there. He'd probably followed her. Or Johnny.
Johnny spat out two words that crumpled Marisol.
"End it."
She collapsed in a heap.
Johnny looked up as Katie's brother, Gary, strode across the grass.
"What's going on?"
Johnny stood his ground, arms crossed, staring at Gary.
"None of your business, Gary. Back off."
Gary's mouth dropped open. The two cousins were like brothers. They fought often, but nothing like this.
"Tell him what you told me, Johnny," Marisol sobbed, her beautiful paisa accent marred by her sorrow.
Johnny scowled as Gary charged up to him.
"What did you do, Johnny?"
Johnny tried to stare Gary down. The two stood there, toe to toe.
Marisol stood, taller and prouder than Charlie had ever seen her, and faced the young men.
Her paiso accent held firm despite her trembling. She pointed at Johnny. "That bastard told me to end it."
Gary's blow dropped Johnny before he took his next breath. Johnny pulled himself to his feet, and the two started at each other with a fierceness that took Coach Cruncher, Coach Duncan, Coach Moore– the football coach– and Principal Jolley, with the help of a few football players, to separate.
Both men were bruised and bloody when they were pulled apart, and both lunged for each other and had to be locked in separate rooms across the school until Brent, Katie's dad, and Brian, Johnny's dad, came to pick them up. Neither returned to school after that. Katie and Alyssa had stopped talking to each other after the fight. He assumed it had been the same with Johnny and Gary.
Charlie remembered sitting on those same steps, watching in horror, struggling to understand. Johnny had always been there for him. Had bailed him out of more scrapes than he could count. If someone had told him Johnny crossed the reservoir on foot, Charlie would have believed it.
He lost his supper in bed that night when he started to put the pieces together. He never would have thought Johnny would have done... it... with a girl. He never would have dropped the bomb if he had known the baby was Johnny's.
That morning, when he realized that Johnny had intentionally wanted his own baby's life to end the same way Benny's had, he lost his breakfast at the table. He lost a hero that morning, too. He broke his three-year perfect attendance record that week, missing almost as much school as he had when he'd gotten his tonsils removed. His mom even took him to the doctor.
Charlie sank to the step, head in hands. It had all been his fault.
The hum of the lawnmower drew closer. Charlie stood. He couldn't let that guy see him like this. Shaking his head, trying to dislodge the ghosts of the past, Charlie opened the heavy oak doors and entered the lobby once more.
*****
Phil jumped in his lifted red Dodge Ram, and Jake and Nate got in the passenger side. The tape player started when Phil started his truck, and Phil began singing along to Smashmouth's "Rock Star." Nate scowled and reached over and turned the radio off.
Phil glared at him. "What the fuck, man?"
Nate frowned. "Ok, what did you just do?"
Phil got a mischievous grin as he backed his truck up. "I found a way to get us out of town so we can hang with some of the college guys down in Poky next week."
Jake chuckled. "You dawg! What are you thinking?"
Phil smirked. "Well, Chawwie Boy wanted to go campin,' right?"
Nate scowled, "You're not going to make us go camping with that little wuss, are you?"
Phil grinned, "Well, as far as anyone knows, I will be camping with the little fairy. As far as your parents know, you guys will be hanging out at my house doing something boring. But... what's really going on is I'm going to ditch Chawwie Boy and that white trash drifter—"
Jake stiffened.
Nate growled, "Drifter? Watch it, shit head..."
Phil scowled. "Ok, fine, Chawwie Boy and that loser at the reservoir. I'll pick you up, and we'll have a fucking good time with the frat boys..." Phil grinned, "And I'm sure there will be plenty of fucking with the chicks. I'll pick the wuss and the tramp up when we get back."
Jake whooped, "Fuck yeah, homie!" and high-fived Phil.
Nate frowned. "What makes you think Max is going to go along with it?"
They pulled up to the grocery store. Phil frowned. "Who's Max?"
Nate rolled his eyes. "The new guy you think you're going to ditch with the wuss, dumbass!"
Phil shrugged and opened the door. "He was so happy to be invited he was practically licking out of my hand. Besides, I'm going to do a little homework later today. I'm sure I can find enough to keep him in line."
Nate scowled, and they jumped out of the truck. "I think you're underestimating Max. You should find someone else to babysit the wuss."
Phil sneered. "Who? Everyone hates him."
Jake looked thoughtful. "What about the freak?"
Nate slugged him. "Are you kidding, you dumbass? Do you have any idea what those two could do if they kissed and made up?"
Jake frowned. "Yeah, good point. I guess it's a good thing that they are still at each other's throats."
They started toward the grocery store. Phil glanced over at Jake. "And you better make damn sure they stay that way, got it?"
Jake nodded.
Nate scowled at Phil. "If this whole camping scheme blows up, it's on you, got it?"
Phil glared back.
***************
Charlie took in the faded elegance of the lobby, with rows of trophies and pictures of past graduating classes. He had usually enjoyed those pictures. It was fun to think of all the people he saw around town as kids who once walked these same halls. It was a nice reminder that high school wouldn't last forever.
The foyer area was reserved for the first 20 classes to graduate from Silver Creek High School, plus a spot for the most recent graduating class.
Charlie couldn't look at the class of 1998. Not because of who was there. But because of three missing pictures.
Trying to distract himself, Charlie walked down the hallway toward the auditorium, finding the frame for the class of '96 to find Amy, who looked a little like their mom, even though she was much more like their dad. He frowned. He didn't see her much anymore. He'd practically been an only child since she left for college. If only Benny...
Charlie glanced at the picture of Adam, wondering what had happened to him. He had been Amy's boyfriend during her junior and senior years. He was at their house all the time and had been really nice. He played chess with Charlie when no one else would, and even let Charlie play his Game Boys. He never did like Phil, though. Adam had gone to a different college from Amy, and he hadn't heard anything about him since then. Stacey, Amy's best friend since kindergarten, was there as well. Charlie hadn't heard anything about her since graduation, either.
He wandered down the hall to shoot a quick glance at the class of 1979, scanning through until he saw the pictures of Dawn Jensen and Brent Williams. Katie looked so much like her mom. Brent looked rough and intimidating even then. His twin brother Brian was right beside him. He couldn't imagine what those two men would do, what they would say, if they knew what he had done to their sons. It was hard enough to think of how he'd ever tell Katie.
Charlie looked at his watch, his grumbling stomach reminding him he had missed two chances to eat, and was close to missing the third. He felt a little lightheaded at the thought of missing lunch, so he'd have to hurry.
He stopped by his locker, set his backpack inside, and pushed the door hard to make sure it closed tight. He continued to the nearest bathroom, past his nemesis, the row of urinals, and into a stall, closing the door.
Now was his chance. His hands quivered as he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. He slipped his shorts down and felt them. It was still pretty smooth down there. The hair down there was taking its time, just like the hair on his face. He was sure they were small. But they were there. He ripped off a square of toilet paper and used it to lift the seat, held his small thing, looked down just enough to set his aim, then straight ahead. He wondered if they were just not developed or not working right. Maybe that was what Johnny had been doing. Testing. His worked. Then they failed him. Maybe they were just useless, or even dangerous if they did work?
After he was done, he put the seat back down, with the toilet paper as a barrier, which he used to flush as well. He tossed the toilet paper in the toilet, remembering the boats he used to sink as a kid as he watched it get caught in the whirlpool. He exited the stall and went to the sink, where he thoroughly scrubbed his hands with several squirts of soap, looking down at them.
Is anything going to work right or grow at the right time? It was bad enough being taller than everyone until 12, but still barely able to say those damn r's and l's right.
Charlie sighed, walked out of the bathroom, and took his usual path to the door leading back downstairs.
She was sitting there, sobbing on the landing. Her dress and hair were a mess now. The San Juaquin was on the floor. He reached out to her, longing to tell her he was sorry, that he didn't know who she was, but she vanished as he reached out.
He choked out a sob and clutched the handrail.
The door opened. Mitch peeked in, gave Charlie a dirty look, then brushed by him on his way up the stairs.
Charlie wiped his tears the best he could with his sleeve and opened the door to the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was full. The line had ended long ago, and the lunch ladies were just cleaning up. Charlie pulled out his wallet and grabbed his last lunch ticket. He looked at that ticket for a moment. The last one. The last full day of the year. If he could make it out alive.
Charlie walked up to the secretary, Mrs. Davidson, who was gathering up her lists and ticket box while talking to her aide, Jeannie. She absently took his ticket and continued talking. Charlie had been offered a spot as Mrs. Davidson's aide at registration at the beginning of the year. He had been tempted, but declined. He knew he couldn't trust himself with access to so much valuable information.
On his way to the lunch counter, he couldn't help but notice bits of conversation.
"That guy mowing the lawn... Who is he, anyway?"
"He's hot."
"He's weird."
"Probably a dunce who couldn't survive school."
"Who the hell does he think he is?"
"Couldn't concentrate."
"Why today?"
Charlie was at least a little relieved that he wasn't the only one who had been distracted.
As Charlie approached the counter, he noticed Mitch looking at him, then looking away, whispering to Trevor and Lucy, who were seated on either side of him.
Mrs. Bates was serving the chicken and mashed potatoes. She was a kind, grandmotherly lady. She smiled at him from behind the counter. "Hello, Charlie! I was wondering when you'd show up!"
Charlie smiled. "Yeah, I, uh needed to make some plans."
Mrs. Bates nodded. "Something fun, I hope?"
Charlie grinned, trying to shove the dang hamster and the weeping girl into a corner. "Camping."
Mrs. Bates nodded again. "That sounds wonderful! Watch out for tics, though. I heard they are nasty this year."
Charlie shuddered. "Uh, thanks! Do you have any fun plans for the summer?
Mrs. Bates grinned. "Sure do! I'm going to go see my grandkids in Texas."
Charlie nodded. "How are Luke and Marie? I'd like to meet them someday. They sound like great kids."
"They are doing well, thank you. Well, you'd better go eat, Charlie. Have a great summer!
"Thanks! You too, Mrs. Bates."
Charlie felt his skin crawl at the thought of a tick on him again. He'd gotten one on his arm once. It still gave him the chills to think about that creepy little thing, latched on to him, sucking his blood. He absently thanked Miss Rose for the apple sauce and Mrs. Walker for the slightly greasy green beans with chunks of bacon as he thought about that tick, then the annoyance on Phil's face when he had first looked at Charlie out on the patio. He was so deep in thought he didn't even notice he grabbed skim milk instead of chocolate as he headed towards the tables and ran right into someone.
Charlie's tray flipped up against him as the milk thudded and the silverware clattered on the tile floor. Laughter burst around him as he pulled back the tray, potatoes and gravy mixed with green beans and applesauce, oozing down his nicely ironed cream-colored button-up, his brown belt, and ironed khakis, dripping onto his docs and the red-and-white checkered tiles. He looked up, gasping, meeting Cade's gaze. Cade broke out in a wide grin. "I think you spilled something, Charlie." Charlie's face burned. To make it worse, Cade was talking to Katie and her cheerleader friends. Katie stood up. Charlie turned, trembling, almost slipping on the puddle on the floor, trying to hold back the tears as he tossed his messy tray on a stack, sending the whole stack clattering to the floor, raising more laughter, as he ran to the bathroom next to the cafeteria and dove into a stall, locking the door behind him, as his heart raced. He finally let the tears flow as he leaned against the wall.
Charlie heard footsteps. Then he heard Cade call out. "Charlie?"
"Go away, Cade!" Charlie shot back, still trembling. Cade stood there for a moment, then returned to the lunchroom to help Katie and the lunch ladies clean up the mess.
Charlie quickly ventured out and jerked the handle of the paper towel dispenser several times, the clanging of the dispenser matching the pounding in his ears. He ripped the flimsy brown towels off and dipped them in a little water, retreating back to the stall.
*****
Katie glared at Cade as she wiped up some gravy off a red tile.
Cade frowned. "What?"
"Did you have to laugh at him?"
Cade looked confused. "I just wanted him to lighten up about it. You know... So he wouldn't make a big deal out of it."
Katie rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Ugh. Boys!"
Cade frowned, then looked thoughtful, and headed to the locker room.
Mallory timidly walked over from where she had been watching. She glanced at Katie anxiously, then started picking up the trays off the floor as she watched the bathroom door with a concerned look.
Katie couldn't help but chuckle. That look confirmed what she'd suspected for a long time. It was pretty obvious, really. Except to Charlie.
**********
Charlie tried to scrub the mess off his shirt, but the wad of paper towels turned to slimy mush, smelling of sawdust mixed with gravy, applesauce, and bacon. Charlie gagged, grateful that his stomach was empty. He was about to step out of the stall when he heard voices.
He froze.
Oh shit. The chess club guys. Of all people.
Alex, James, and Tyler went over to the urinals, all three wearing coordinated Dungeons and Dragons shirts and similar thick glasses. James turned to Tyler. Man, I've been waiting for that since, like, seventh grade!
Tyler chuckled, "No kidding! Remember how he knocked over the chessboard when I almost had you in check?"
James looked confused. "Wait... I think I had you in check."
Tyler shrugged. "Whatever."
James shook his head. "That was nothing compared to when he invited me to his birthday party at the bowling alley, and it was closed when I got there."
Alex groaned. You think that's bad? Don't you remember how he helped that creep, Nate, hold my head in the you know what... He even flushed!"
The boys went silent. Tyler looked down at the counter. "I'd forgotten about that one."
Alex looked at Tyler sharply. "How could you forget? That was like the worst day of my life!"
***************
Cade stood outside the door, clutching the sleeveless No Fear shirt slit down the sides he used for his PE shirt. He wasn't quite sure how Charlie could use it, but hoped they could figure something out. He heard voices inside and didn't want to go in and embarrass Charlie further, so he just waited.
He sighed. Waiting for Charlie again. He'd been waiting for him after he finished lunch to see if he had gotten in trouble with Mr. Duncan because of Dylan. And since Charlie had been so late, there was a chance that he had. He frowned. He'd have to ask Dyl about that since he clearly couldn't ask Charlie.
The bell screamed overhead that it was time to go, and he couldn't afford another tardy. So he set the shirt on the floor by the door, hoping Charlie would find it. He sighed. So much for trying to start his drawing during lunchtime.
************
Charlie glanced at the toilet. He remembered that day. The scream. The splash. The whoosh. The laughter. His laughter. Charlie felt a chill. That was the day Charlie tried to break free of Phil. He hated what he had become.
Then, when he thought that time was behind him, he had struck again at Marisol.
Charlie started sobbing. He almost wanted to plunge his own head in that toilet and hold it there. Almost.
Charlie stepped out of the stall. He couldn't look himself in the mirror. He tried to get clean with more paper towels. It didn't help. And no amount of paper towels would remove the stain from his soul.
He washed his hands with a mound of soap, but he still felt filthy.
Charlie sighed and headed out to the empty cafeteria. It was clean like nothing happened. It seemed unfair. Everyone else had moved on, but he still had the stains. Or maybe it was fair. Because Alex and his friends still had the scars he had given them.
He headed upstairs to his locker, relieved the halls were empty now, as he thought about his terrible 7th-grade year. Amy had graduated at the end of his 6th-grade year and had started college. Grandma Margaret passed away the summer before school started. His mom had a shot at chasing her dream working in health care as a home health nurse. Charlie had felt himself capable of caring for himself. And he did, physically. He hadn't anticipated how much he'd need his mom emotionally, though. So it was just him and Phil. But Phil had become more independent as well and had spent more time at the bank and golf course. His friendship at school had become... conditional. Just small stuff at first. This slowly escalated. And Charlie found he enjoyed a lot of what Phil wanted him to do. He even started doing his own hits. He became more confident than he'd been in a long time. Grew his hair out long again and started wearing bolder clothes. His dad was finally proud of him. Not for the bullying, of course. He didn't know anything about that. But his dad noticed that he'd become more confident. Bolder. Katie had even started to notice him.
Charlie almost hit Principal Jolley with the door as he opened it to enter the lobby.
The principal, a tall, balding man with a bit of a belly, who wore sweater vests over his dress shirt, even on warm days, stood over Charlie with a scowl. He scowled at everyone, except Phil. And Charlie knew it wasn't because he liked Phil.
"What are you doing in the halls, Mr. Thompson?"
Charlie sighed, glancing at the tobacco stains on Principal Jolley's fingers that betrayed his frequent retreats to the side of the building.
"I had to use the bathroom."
He noticed quiet, short Mr. Carson come up the hall behind the principal and stop at a respectful distance.
"Do you have a hall pass?" Principal Jolley growled.
Charlie shook his head. "No, sir."
"Do you have an explanation for your behavior?"
Charlie seethed. The explanation should have been obvious from the splotches of gravy and grease and fibers on his clothes, but apparently Jolley didn't notice.
If we played the same game as Phil, Jolley would be treating us very differently right now.
"Well?"
Charlie shook his head. "No, sir." He sighed.
If we had spent just a little time in the bank's break room and on the golf course like Phil, this conversation would be very different right now. With just a little info, Jolley might respect us.
Actually, Mr. Jolley would be terrified.
Mr. Jolley scoffed. "Get to class now, then come see me after school. Oh, and clean yourself up. You're a mess."
Charlie stammered, "After school? I'll miss the bus..."
Mr. Jolley waved him off. "I guess you'll have to call your mom then. Should have thought of that sooner, Mr. Thompson." He turned, muttering something about "disrespectful kids these days" as he headed down the stairs.
Mr. Carson came up to Charlie. Mr. Jolley hadn't even noticed him. Charlie scoffed.
No one notices the janitor.
Phil's dad, Chris, had recognized this. He'd started as a janitor at the bank when he was in high school, and had quickly realized what he had access to. And now, from what his dad had said, he was on track to become CEO.
Mr. Carson gently cleared his throat. "Hey, Charlie."
Charlie felt his face flush. He had been ignoring the janitor, too. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Carson. I... had a lot on my mind."
Mr. Carson put his calloused hands in his pockets. "I understand. I'm sorry about what happened down at the cafeteria."
Charlie looked at the ground. "Thanks."
Mr. Carson glanced at him. "Hey, uh, I could go check out the lost and found bin downstairs. There might be something you can change into."
Charlie smiled. "Thank you. I really appreciate that. I really should get to class. I'll just put my jacket on."
Mr. Carson nodded and turned around.
"Mr. Carson?" Charlie called out.
Mr. Carson looked back.
Charlie looked the small man in the eyes. "I really appreciate the work you do around here. It's got to take a lot to keep this old place clean with all of us slobs."
Mr. Carson stood a little straighter and smiled. "Thank you." He turned again and walked back to his cart.
Charlie made it the rest of the way to his locker. He was really grateful that the halls were empty now. If the freshmen had noticed him looking like this, they would eat him alive.
The freshmen reminded him of what he hadn't been last year. Sure, he seemed as innocent and naive as them. But he'd been waiting quietly for his chance like a snake waiting for the strike. No one even realized it was him when it was all over, because no one notices freshmen either.
It was more devastating but so much simpler than knocking over a chessboard. And so... invisible. The chessboard left scattered pieces. And he'd been noticed. But a rumor? No one ever remembers who starts those. It's like a complicated web of dominoes that's impossible to trace to the beginning. And he didn't even have to say anything.
Charlie shuddered again. That had been his greatest victory and his darkest, ugliest moment.
Charlie looked one more time to make sure the coast was clear, certain he'd see Devin. Devin was always following him when he had the chance. He always made him uneasy. Not just because he was always following him. But because he often was wearing Charlie's clothes, the baggy dark ones he had left at Trash to Treasures at the end of summer. Charlie felt bad that Devin also had to buy his clothes secondhand, but he wished someone less...well, like Devin... with his short mohawk, earring, chains, and foul mouth had found them instead.
Charlie quickly spun the dial, his hands trembling now. It was the same locker as last year. He'd spun that dial hundreds of times by now. But he couldn't remember the numbers. He took a deep breath and let his fingers take over. Finally, he got the locker open. As the ancient door squeaked open, he was greeted with a picture of Jesus with the letters "WWJD?" under it. He had put that picture and those words there to try to keep everyone around him safe. But the reminder always left him with a question that chilled him. He knew Jesus wouldn't have done any of the things he'd done. But he wondered what Jesus would see in him. Would he see a broken person trying to do the right thing like the woman taken in adultery, or a whited sepulcher hiding the rot in his soul behind a button-up shirt?
Charlie set his backpack down beside his locker, grabbed his simple blue jacket, slipped it on, and zipped it up. It didn't quite cover the stain on his pants, which, unfortunately, was in a spot that suggested a different kind of accident, but it would have to work. Maybe it was better that way. If everyone saw the stain he couldn't get rid of on the outside, they wouldn't notice him struggling to cleanse himself from deeper stains. He closed his locker and headed back towards the stairs.
He stole a quick glance at a locker on his way to the English classroom. It had been Whitney's. She had been the perfect person to deliver the blow.
He closed his eyes and stood there for a moment, a wave of shame washing over him. He had thought it was just a little firecracker. Had he known it was really a warhead, he never would have done it. He had underestimated how much Whitney hated Marisol after Johnny broke off their two-year relationship to be with the exotic Colombian girl.
Charlie checked his watch and started to panic. 12:50! He was 15 minutes late to his English class. He was so dead. At least English was one of his best subjects. Hopefully, he stood a chance on the test.