The Chamber of Five by Michael Harmon Read Free Book Online Page B

toward the school. “You know what, Jason? It
is
me. I’ve always been the one, and I know that. I’m the guy, youknow? Last picked, never picked, and always the butt of the joke. I was just born that way, and Carter was right. I’m a freak.” Then he walked away.
    I called after him.
    He turned, shaking his head. “I love my father more than the Pilkney Foundation, Jason. I declined Carter. I won’t take the letter. Bye.” Then he was gone, and I stood there, feeling an inch tall. Elvis had the courage that neither I nor Brooke nor anybody in the Chamber had. He’d looked at a future filled with brilliance, but he’d not been willing to sacrifice what was right. No amount of money could buy the pride he had for his father. A tinge of jealousy ran through me. I wished I had a dad like his.
    I walked across the courtyard, up the steps, and into the school. And when I got inside, I saw that the games had begun in full. I stood transfixed, my mind floating in disbelief as I stared.
    Every fifth locker down the main corridor had a poster tacked to it, and students milled around, laughing and talking before class began. The Thomas Singletary Food Drive had kicked off today, and as the posters read, canned goods could be donated in the main foyer to help the Singletarys out in their time of need. “To help humanity is to help those who cannot help themselves” was emblazoned across the posters, and below that, my name was listed as the chairman of the committee that organized the drive. I groaned.
    Then I walked to the office. Mrs. Pembroke sat behind the counter. I cleared my throat. She looked up, then smiled. “Hello, Mr. Weatherby. How are you today?”
    I pointed to the hall. “Who did that?”
    She furrowed her brow. “Well, Jason, you did. Mr. Kennedy came in this morning with a stack of posters and let me know he was to put them up.” She grinned. “Very kind of you to help like that, Jason. When a community cares, it can make all the difference in the world for a family.”
    I looked at her, realizing she truly had no idea how crappy people could be. “They don’t need help. Nothing happened.”
    “What?”
    I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. “Nothing. Never mind.” Then I left, walking down the hall and tearing the posters down. All of them. The bell sounded for first period and I ignored it, scouring the upper floors for anything else, but knowing it was too late. The box in the foyer was half full of beans and corn and soup and any other odd leftover from pantries and cupboards, and Thomas Singletary was the ass end of a big joke at Lambert.
    Compliments of me.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    “Y OU AGREED, DIPSHIT . Take it like a man,” Kennedy said. He had a hard time saying it, though, because I had him pinioned against a locker, my hand around his throat. It was more a gravelly squeak.
    “I told you I didn’t need help. Not this way.”
    “Did anybody ever let you know you have some serious anger management problems?” he croaked. Some sort of psychotic amusement lit his eyes even as his face turned a shade of red, and I almost pounded him.
    “No more, Kennedy. I said I’d handle it, and I will.”
    “Don’t kill the messenger, man. Kill the king.” His eyes twinkled. “If you can.”
    My mind swirled around Elvis and some punk frosh I didn’t even like who I was in charge of getting rid of. “He’s gone too far, Kennedy. Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
    Kennedy read my look. “Why do you care, Weatherby?”
    “Because this is about Carter hurting people for no reason other than power, and I don’t like it.”
    He craned his neck to the left and right, taking in the gathering crowd of students. “Would you let me go, please? Dissension in the ranks doesn’t quite cut the old mustard in the Chamber, and I’m getting tired of not beating the living shit out of you.”
    I let him go. “I made a deal with Carter, and as far as you’re concerned, Kennedy, you’re out of it. Out. So