Hometown by Marsha Qualey Read Free Book Online Page B

protest continued for the rest of fifth period and most of sixth. No cops came by, no school officials came out, and finally it broke up. A few kids lingered, smoking.
    Border watched until Mrs. Neelon brought his dryer-hot jeans. He slipped them on and headed straight for the library. Study hall next period, why bother with geometry for fifteen minutes?
    The library was deserted and he found a carrel next to the sci-fi and fantasy collection. The lurid cover of one book faced out and caught his eye: a voluptuous babe with her hand on the hero’s hunky chest. Canyons of Istabar. Border pulled it off the shelf and began reading.
    After-School Activity—
    “You have some nerve, Baker, hanging around after that little show. You dumb-ass traitorous son of a bitch, son of a dope-brained coward.”
    Border’s books had scattered in the snow. He spotted Canyons soaking up moisture as it lay in a slushy tire track. He’d finished seven chapters in the library, wanted to know the end. Probably unreadable now.
    He blew out his nose and watched blood splatter on snow. Then he coughed, a quick succession of sharp gagging hacks, until the bloody phlegm was forced up into his mouth. He spat it out.
    “A few punches,” Bryan whined. He turned to his companions. “I didn’t even hit him that hard.” His friends murmured agreement. “I should have known he wouldn’t fight back. Chicken.”
    Border pushed up and inched back until he could rest against his car. “You’re too tough for me, Bryan.”
    A wad of spit landed on Border’s shoe.
    Border closed his eyes, tapped on his thighs. “Why are you doing this? I got your message yesterday. You don’t like me. I understand.”
    “I wanted you to know what I think of your little demonstration today.”
    “Huh?” he honked. “I wasn’t there.”
    Bryan frowned. “I heard you walked out during fifth period, the first one to leave. You weren’t in geometry, I know that.”
    Border started to speak, then shut up. He owed the bastard nothing.
    Bryan nodded. “Just what I thought.”
    “You know, Bryan, until about two minutes ago I didn’t hate you, even after you jumped me yesterday.” He shifted, stifled a moan. Man, his jaw hurt. “After all, your jokes in class aren’t half-bad. Whoa, easy now, don’t kick me. Are you going to kick me?”
    Bryan squinted. “I should. I should kick you back to New Mexico.”
    Something dripped across Border’s lips. He wiped it with the back of his hand, leaving a dark smear on light gray gloves. “Gosh, Bryan, I doubt if even a fine athlete like you could do that.”
    The kicks came hard, and Border crumpled over, thinking as his head hit ground, I am so stupid.
    “Stop it,” one of Bryan’s friends whispered. There was murmuring, then footsteps in snow, and Border was alone.
    He rose slowly and leaned against the car, sorry for himself. Dark sky, dirty snow, sharp wind, foul mood.
    Get in the car, drive home. New Mexico. What was stopping him?
    Border looked at his bloody glove. Life with mother, that’s what. Life with someone who puts that life on stage. What would she do with this? Hold him and clean the blood?
    “Nope,” said Border aloud. “She’d put it in a show. She’d start writing. She’d—”
    He wasn’t alone. Another boy stood watching, ten feet away. Border raised his arms. “Go ahead, kick me.”
    “Is that what happened? You’re a mess. Who did it?”
    Border brushed snow off his jacket. “Pack of little girls, seven or eight of them. Vicious things. Beat me with their Barbie dolls.”
    “Think you need to see a doctor? The hospital—”
    “No!” Right into his father’s lair? No. “I’m okay. It’s probably just a bloody nose.”
    “I live a block over from your house. I could use a ride home.”
    Border frowned. Did everyone know who he was?
    “I work at the grocery store and I saw you shopping with Mrs. Sanborn. I’ve cut her lawn for years.”
    Border tossed his keys to the boy.