Everyone gathered in anticipation as Mr. Hall, the advisor, set the first box of books on the desk.
The rest of the staff oohed at the cover. The historic, four-story red-brick school that was the pride of the town but often a frustration to anyone who spent much time there stood against the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Big Juniper range behind it. It looked more like an inviting castle than an imprisoning fortress in the picture. Charlie had to admit it was a beautiful building, and it must have been stunning when it was completed in 1924. The big white S for Silver Creek (The C had been on the to-do list for at least 70 years now) was to the left of the school. Charlie grudgingly admitted that Cade had done an alright job taking the picture of the school. There was a picture of a curlew, the funny little bird with a curved beak that was the school mascot, in the corner. Everyone had mixed feelings about the curlew. They felt a proud attachment to the funny little bird, but it was hard to be intimidating compared to the dragons and pirates of their rivals. "Silver Creek High School, 1999" was in big, stylish bold Garamond over the mountains, and a light blue frame bordered everything.
Mr. Hall handed the books out. Charlie adjusted his jacket over the stain on the crotch of his pants the best he could and walked over to get his book, excited. He took the book and quickly sat down, relieved that everyone else was paying attention to their yearbooks. He flipped through the pictures until he found his among the other sophomores. He groaned. He looked like a little boy. He didn't look at Cade's picture. He glanced at Phil's, all polished, his boyish face looking cherubic, with his ever-present letterman jacket. He flipped to Katie's picture out of habit, looking for it like he always had. But instead of a comforting smile, he saw the judgment that he knew would be coming if she ever found out what he had done.
Charlie tried to brush all of that aside again. He skipped ahead to the sports section. He was afraid to find out, but he had to see whether they had used the picture of the cross-country team with him in it, or if a new picture had been taken when he left.
Football was first. He noted with satisfaction that the only picture with Phil was the team picture. And Phil was partially blocked by another guy. Charlie chuckled. Phil was going to be ticked. He had to give Cade credit for that one
Charlie flipped to boys basketball. Charlie cringed. There was a picture of the team playing shirts and skins. Really Cade?
Then to wrestling. Cade's sport. There were a few pictures of the wrestlers with their singlets pulled down to their waists. Cade again. Charlie flushed. What was with that guy?
***********
Cade stared at the yearbook on his desk, dreading what he would find inside. Wondering if he'd die tomorrow. He tried to distract himself by taking a long look at the picture of the school on the cover. He wished he had gotten better lighting, but overall, he thought it turned out all right.
Cade had always liked the old building when he visited his grandparents in Silver Creek. He never thought he'd live here and attend the school, though. The school had seemed to welcome him to town when he and his mom pulled in in their U-Haul. He had hoped that his peers would be equally welcoming. He sighed. Things hadn't quite gone as well as he had hoped. Sure, he was generally treated ok, but he never felt like he fit in with anyone. And— he glanced at Charlie— he'd messed up bad with the one person he thought would have become a close friend.
Cade held his breath as he opened the book. Did he dare look? Hoping he didn't look as anxious as he felt, he thumbed to where he figured the spread would be, cracked the book open, then closed it again. No, he couldn't bear it yet. He glanced over at Charlie, wondering if he had noticed him. But Charlie was scowling at his book. Cade let out a sigh of relief and picked up the book again. He opened it, then hesitated and flipped to the Sophomore section and glanced at his own picture, even though he knew he wouldn't like it. He never did like looking at pictures of himself. Especially when he had to look all professional and put together. At least it was better than his driver's license picture, but not much.
Jessica glanced over at him. "Great photos, Cade!"
Cade grinned. "Thanks!"
He couldn't help but notice that Charlie was still scowling. Or was that his resting face? It was hard to tell sometimes. No, that was definitely a scowl. Oh well, can't please everyone. Especially not him.
Hesitantly, Cade flipped to the sports section, landing on the cross country spread first. He nodded approvingly. Amy had done a good job. He glanced over the team picture, glad it had been taken while Charlie was still on the team. Then he sighed as he looked at the picture from the Albion meet, then over to Charlie. He'd been such a damn fool.
Again.
He tried to brush the guilt off as he flipped to the car wash. This was his favorite event of the year. Everyone was a team, on equal grounds, equally exposed, and equally covered in soap and grime.
Cade flipped through to the student life spread, beaming with pride as his eyes rested on his picture of Charlie. He studied it carefully, trying to re-live that brief moment, then shot an anxious glance at Charlie, who was slumped over his desk, frowning. Cade wondered if he'd ever see more of the excited, energetic guy he'd only caught brief glimpses of and had been lucky to capture on film.
Cade set the book down and took a deep breath. He didn't want to look, but he had to know how bad it was.
He flipped through the book aimlessly, hoping that, somehow, the wrestling spread had been left out. But the pages opened to it, and there it was, and it was worse than he had remembered. He was definitely going to die, after being kicked off the staff, and... suspended? What happened to people who really fucked up at the end of the year?
****************
Charlie turned to the cross-country spread, pleased to find himself in the team picture. He was even visible. Unlike Phil in the football team's picture. Ok, so he was glad Cade didn't let him hide.
He had been a little anxious when he contacted Coach Cruncher about joining the cross-country team toward the end of last summer. He had started running and found he enjoyed it. It helped him forget everything for a while, and thanks to his long legs and all the time he spent on his bike, he was a decent runner. He shook his head as he glanced past the pictures of the team running at practice, most of the guys shirtless. Charlie wished he had dared shed his too. He almost did once, but couldn't bring himself to do it, even though most of the other guys were as scrawny as him.
He saw a picture of a cross-country camp. That was fun, even though he reeked afterward because he avoided the shower. He wasn't sure what was worse, the showers or the smell. So he picked the smell, much to his teammates' dismay.
In a way, it made sense, now that he thought about it. He was trying to run, but he couldn't outrun the stench of his past. He was grateful they didn't realize his smell wasn't just body odor.
The picture of runners in front of a brick building caught his eye. He gasped a little. The meet. The one at the abandoned college campus in Albion.
They had been running a course through the grassy campus grounds. He had been trailing Cade and another kid pretty closely.
He had always found Cade to be annoying. He always teased him about being one of the few guys who wore a shirt on the longer runs, and gave him a hard time about wearing a t-shirt under his singlet. He'd even managed to hide his t-shirt while Charlie was changing, forcing him to run in just the singlet at that meet. Charlie was so humiliated that it messed up his run. It was the meet just before Albion.
Cade had been running with the kid from Malad the whole race. Cade had been especially friendly with him when he went over to talk to his old team. The Silver Creek kids, however, were a little distant from Cade when he returned.
Charlie lost them for a second when they rounded a building. Then, when he turned the corner, Cade looked back for a second—a quick, desperate look—then his foot shot out, sending the other guy sprawling on the grass as Cade sprinted on ahead.
Charlie stopped, panting, and offered the boy a hand up as other runners swerved around them. The guy, whom he learned was named Reid, looked confused, then took Charlie's hand and scrambled up. He could only limp heavily, clearly having sprained something in the sudden fall.
Reid, gritting his teeth, refused to sit down. "Just help me get to the coach," he whispered, pointing past the final turn where the officials' tent stood. Charlie helped him limp the final few yards off the course and into the finish area.
Coach Cruncher, the coach from Malad, and the line judge were clustered near the finish banner. The coach from Malad immediately went to the hurt boy.
Reid immediately looked for Cade among the Curlews. He called out to him angrily. "Cade!"
Cade looked over at him, then at Charlie with a panicked look.
Reid yelled loud enough for everyone to hear, "You tripped me!"
The line judge gestured for Cade to come over. "Did you trip him?"
Cade stumbled for words a little, then looked pleadingly over to Reid. "I wouldn't trip you, Reid! It must have been a rock or a branch or something."
Reid glared at Cade, a look of betrayal in his eyes, then looked down.
The line judge turned to Charlie. "Did you see it?"
Charlie hesitated, looking at Cade, who narrowed his eyes just slightly, then at the judge. "Yes."
The line judge looked back at Charlie. "Did runner #12 from Silver Creek trip runner #17 from Malad?"
Charlie could just see his coach, Coach Cruncher, nod his head no, just slightly.
Charlie swallowed hard and looked up at the judge. "Yes."
Both Cade and Cruncher glared at Charlie.
The judge looked surprised, but nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Thank you. Runner #12 from Silver Creek is disqualified for unsportsmanlike conduct."
Cade shot fire out of his eyes at Charlie.
Reid yelled at Cade. "Don't bother to call again, Cade."
Cade looked down at the ground, and he and Coach Cruncher stormed off.
The coach from Malad held out his hand to Charlie. "Thank you. That took a lot of courage."
Charlie shook his hand, then looked down at the ground.
The bus ride home was miserable. The next day, Charlie turned in his uniform and didn't look back.
Charlie looked over at Cade and scowled. Cade had hated him ever since.
Then he saw pictures of the annual swimsuit car wash. Lots of pictures of guys in swimsuits and girls in bikinis. More of Cade's artwork. That event... it was so awkward! He had to help as part of the cross-country team. He was the only guy wearing a T-shirt at the event. And the locker room... Unfortunately, since he had gone over to the school directly from the cross country camp, he didn't have a chance to change into his suit. He changed in one of the stalls, but the sight of the locker room... All the male athletes were there. Changing into their swimsuits. Most of them took their time between undressing and putting their suits on. It was like one big naked, loud, smelly, rowdy reunion. Charlie could never look at those guys the same after that.
Charlie couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't believe the editor let Cade be the photographer.
He went over to Cade. "What did you do to the yearbook, Cade? This book- it's like the freaking swimsuit edition!"
Cade looked up from his own book and flinched.
Some of the guys chuckled.
Jason, the editor, turned to Jessica, the co-editor. They both rolled their eyes.
"Here they go again," Jason sighed.
Cade bristled. He was tired of being Charlie's punching bag. "I'm surprised you know what that is, Charlie!"
Charlie scowled. "My dad gets Sports Illustrated."
Charlie turned to Jason. "I can't believe you used those pictures!"
Jason shrugged. "Cade's a good photographer."
Charlie glared at the three of them and returned to his desk. Cade shot him an angry look. He was damn proud of his photography, and he wasn't going to let Charlie be a stick in the mud and spoil his artwork.
Charlie started back at the beginning and flipped through the pages of the yearbook, skipping right over the chess club, frowning at the typos he had missed in his copy and flaws in his layouts, then froze when he reached the student life section. There was a picture of himself in gym class, shirtless, throwing a basketball which had just left the tips of his fingers. He was sure he even missed the shot.
Charlie, jaw clenched, trembling, walked over to Cade. "Cade, what... the heck... is this?"
Cade shrugged dismissively, "A picture of you throwing a basketball."
"I see that, Cade. But I'm not... dressed." Charlie hissed back.
Cade just looked up at Charlie. He was done caring what Charlie thought about him now. To think he had actually liked the guy. "Dude, nobody cares!"
Charlie slammed his book closed and sulked in a corner.
Adam, a freshman Charlie had worked with a lot on his spreads, hesitantly approached Charlie and tapped his shoulder.
Charlie looked up, startled. Andrew gave him a shy smile.
"Hey, um, I was wondering if you could sign my book?"
Charlie forced a smile. Andrew was a nice kid, and he'd enjoyed working with him. It was the least he could do.
Charlie reached in his pocket for his pen, but his hand returned with his granitoid. He stared at his rock blankly and found himself standing in mud in front of that turquoise trailer. The bright San Joaquins were gone. The trailer was silent. A rusty car he didn't recognize was parked in front.
Charlie turned, but stopped. He was tired of running. He turned back around and knocked hesitantly on the door.
A balding, overweight man opened the door, a trickle of brown spit trickling down the side of his mouth.
"Yeah?" The man growled.
Charlie stared at the man.
"Whaddya want?" The man barked.
"I'm looking for... the family who lived here," he managed to stammer.
"The spics?"
Something about that word and the way the man said it stung him, even though he didn't understand it.
He looked the man in the eyes. "They were Colombian."
The man looked down, shuffling.
"I dunno where the hell they went. They were gone when I left. I bought this dump at an auction. It was cheap, but its gonna take a shitload of paint to cover that damn turquoise."
Charlie sighed and looked down. "Ok. Well, thanks anyway."
As he shuffled through the mud, the man called to him.
"You know why they was in such a hurry to leave? Wasn't nothin wrong with this piece of shit trailer, was there?"
Charlie froze, choking back a sob. He looked back. Trembling, "I think it had something to do with the people around here," he replied softly, then started shuffling through the mud.
The bell rang. Charlie looked up, tears streaming down his face. He saw Andrew gazing at him from across the room, wide-eyed, mouth agape.