The Battle for Jericho by Gene Gant Read Free Book Online

knee up, delivering a solid blow to my chin that made my teeth click. I fell back into my open locker.
    “ Now you’re sorry,” the girl said.
    Mac moved quickly between us, shielding me. “Step away, Wonder Woman.”
    The girl scooped up her backpack and strode off down the hall, cursing under her breath. I watched her go. Her jeans were tight. She had a phenomenal butt.
    I was going to miss phenomenal girl butts.
    Mac reached down and tugged me out of the locker opening. I desperately scooted away from him as if he were about to jab a knife in my chest. He stared at me for a second. “You’re really starting to scare me here, Jerry.” He closed the door to my locker and spun the dial, making sure it was locked.
    “Don’t worry about me, Mac.” Holding my stinging left hand against my chest, I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder. My jaw ached. I wondered if that was punishment enough for me to forget about joining the gay team. Then I thought about the broken Dylan and knew I had not suffered nearly enough. I sighed. “I gotta go.”
    “Hold on. Hutch has his mom’s car. He’s gonna give us a ride—”
    “You dudes go ahead. I got something else to do. See ya.” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I ran for the exit. Mac started after me, I poured on the speed, and he gave up, knowing there was no way he could catch me.
    I thought about Dylan again. I’d been thinking about him a lot today. Every time he crossed my mind, I felt sort of funny, anxious-like. It was a lot worse than the weird feeling I usually got when I let any notion of homosexuality into my head.

Chapter 6

     
    D AD was happy to learn that I’d “found” my cell—so happy, in fact, that he took it from me. “Maybe I’ll just hold onto it for a while,” he said. “Maybe that will teach you to keep up with your things.”
    Being without a cell would be no excuse for failing to follow the rules. I knew, as I ran down the steps outside the school’s south entrance two at a time, that I wasn’t going home just yet. That meant I had to let Mom or Dad know where I would be.
    The only pay phone in town that I knew of was mounted outside the service bay door of an auto repair shop on Highway 72. The shop was run by the family of Gavin Coles, a guy I’d known since fifth grade. Gavin said the phone had been there since before he was born, and he’d never seen anyone actually use it. I wasn’t about to hike the seven miles to the shop to find out if the thing really worked.
    Dummy! I was so out of my head I forgot all about the pay phones at school. By the time my memory kicked in, I was already three blocks from school, and I sure as hell wasn’t going back. Instead, I headed for the Webster’s Glen Library.
    The afternoon was sunny, and it was warm for late October. That made it a great day for running. I spend a lot of my free time in the Popular Fiction section, hunting for newly released sci-fi paperbacks. The women who staff the desk there used to let me use the department’s phone to call home, back in those dark days before Dad broke down and got a cell for me. Despite my being sweaty and out of breath when I reached the desk, the woman on duty today, Mrs. Kingston, was glad to see me.
    “Of course, you’re welcome to use the telephone, sweetie,” she said with a big smile, bending down to grab the phone from the cubbyhole beneath her desk. It was kept there to mute the sound when it rang. Mrs. Kingston is a graduate student in Library Science at the university. She has a soft, round face, is somewhere in her late twenties, and is what my mom calls “full-figured.” She was wearing a turtleneck. It fit her perfectly. For the first time in the two years since she started working at the library, I realized what nice lips she has. And eyes. And ears. Even her nostrils are cute.
    I almost sighed when she put the phone in front of me.
    I called Baptist Hospital first, which is perched on the eastern border of Webster’s