Page 77 of The Rebel of Raleigh High
Principle Darhower ignores Mr. Weaving, but still—tiredly—gives him what he wants. “Kacey claims Alex threatened to hurt Jacob, Silver. She said he swore he and his biker friends were going to jump him and break every single one of his ribs.”
Oh…my…god. This is getting more and more ridiculous by the minute. “Alex said nothing of the sort. This is all just…fuck, it’s a complete fabrication!”
Darhower rocks back into his chair. Caleb Weaving stabs a finger in my direction. “See! Listen to the language on her. You’re going to believe this little upstart overmyson and his girlfriend?”
I have had enough of this bullshit to last me a lifetime. I narrow my eyes, digging my fingernails into my palms. “Why isheeven here right now? Shouldn’tmydad be present if I’m being accused of something?”
“I fund this entire school, young lady. I own this building down to its crumbling foundations! Don’t you dare presume to—”
I ignore the bastard, looking Darhower square in the eye. “Alex didnothave a knife. He didnotthreaten to hurt Jake, either. I mean, what would he possibly have to gain?”
Revenge.
Justice.
Satisfaction.
“Jake already told me this kid wants his spot on the team, Jim. He’s already tried to hurt him during practice. Poor sportsmanship. Late hits. Whispering all kinds of foul nonsense in his ears. I don’t like it. I want that boygone.”
“There was no knife on him when we searched him,” Sheriff Hainsworth interjects. “And his story matches up with the girl’s. Can I get the hell out of here now? This is not a police matter.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Mr. Weaving snarls. “This most definitelyisa police matter. That little shit’s broken the rules of his probation.”
“By telling a prissy little rich girl that she’s a prissy little rich girl?” He clucks his tongue disapprovingly as he shoves past Mr. Weaving, headed for the door. “Fortunately, callin’ a spade a spade ain’t illegal in the fine State of Washington just yet. If he sets something on fire or actually starts stabbing people, then you give me a call. In the meantime, I’m gonna release him and let him get back to class. I’m sure you two gents can handle an argument between two teenagers without me holding your hands.”
I watch him go, horrified. “Release him? What did he mean,release him?”
Principle Darhower rubs at the lenses of his glasses, clearly very over this meeting. “Sheriff Hainsworth detained Alex in the back of his squad car. Just for a moment, while we talked in here.”
“Hearrestedhim?”
“Detained,” Darhower repeats. “Now. Since no weapon was found on Moretti and it's just his and your word against Kacey and Zen's, I'm afraid measures must be taken if all of you are to remain at Raleigh. You and Kacey used to be thick as thieves, Silver. Obviously, something happened to cause a rift between the two of you. You're both going to have to attend joint counseling sessions with Ms. Landry, twice a week to iron out your differences. No, don't even bother, Silver. This is non-negotiable.”
“And the deadbeat on the motorcycle?” Mr. Weaving demands. “You have to suspend him, preferably for the rest of the semester. He has to learn a lesson, Jim! His type needs a firm hand to rein them in and show them who’s boss.”
“No way! That’s weeks’ worth of work. If you do that, there’s no way he’ll be able to catch up. He’ll have to re-sit the entire year!”
Darhower slams his open palm down on his desk. The loud burst of sound nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “Alessandro Moretti isnotbeing suspended. His attendance has been good, and his grades, despite the motorcycle, have been exemplary. Jesus, why the hell is everyone so bent out of shape about the kid’s goddamn mode of transportation.”
“Hecannotbe allowed to play on the team,” Mr. Weaving says, voice rising with his anger. “That, I simply will not allow. Jake's worked too hard and too long to have his dreams of playing for state crushed because of some orphaned, violent thug with an ax to grind. Do not test me on this, Jim. Believe me, I will make things very difficult—”
“Whendon’tyou make things difficult,” Darhower mutters under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“I said fine, Caleb. Have it your way. Alex is banned from playing on the team for the rest of the year until graduation. He can play basketball or something else instead for all I damn well care. Now that’s an end to it. Silver, back to class. Caleb, honestly, it’s been a pleasure as always.”
* * *
Alex’s fumeslike a smoking volcano as he burns across the lot, threatening to blow any second. Two identical red rings cuff his wrists, the skin broken and stained with dried blood. I have to jog to keep up with him, dodging around all of the other students pouring out of the building, heading toward their cars.
“He told me to ‘take the rest of the day off,’” he growls, fishing in his pockets for his keys. “Like I’d earned myself a little break or something. I swear, I want to fucking murder Jake Weaving right now,Argento. Him and his arrogant son of a bitch father.”
“Alex. Alex, it’s okay. You’re not gonna lose the credit. It’s still early enough to get you on another team, okay? Darhower said so himself. Hey. Hey, look at me.” I have to step up onto the low brick wall next to the bike so I’m the same height as him; taking his face in my hands, I hold him in place until he has no choice but to stop prowling up and down like a lion with a sore head and has to stand still.
“I warned you hanging out with me would have consequences,” I say softly. “You can take this all back, y’know. Me and you. If they fuck with you again and do something to ruin your chances of getting custody of Ben, I’ll never forgive myself.”
He meets my gaze with a fierce, unrelenting fire in his eyes. “You think I'll give you up because some dumb assholes wanna make life hard for us? No fucking way, Silver.”
