The Party by Christopher Pike Read Free Book Online Page A

didn’t like his looks. Sitting here, I was thinking you talked just like him. You see that movie, Coach? You would have liked it. The sheriff ended up going to jail.”
    “What’s your point?”
    The guy yawned. “Seems to me if The Rock wants to pick on people that can kick his ass, I don’t see why it’s anybody’s business except his and the guy he’s hassling.”
    “Are you saying The Rock started this? Why didn’t you speak up earlier?”
    “Couldn’t be bothered, I guess.”
    Coach Campbell glanced at Nick, then back at the guy. Nick could see Desmond was no slouch, either. About six feet with a head of thick brown hair, he had a powerfully developed physique. More important to Nick, though, when he had begun to laugh, the other guys in the room had backed off slightly, as though even his humor intimidated them. Coach Campbell seemed to take him seriously enough.
    “What are you doing in here, anyway, Desmond?” the coach asked. “Don’t you have a crosscountry race to run this afternoon?”
    “I do, yeah. So what?”
    “You shouldn’t be tiring yourself out beforehand lifting weights.” Then his tone took on a bitter edge. “You shouldn’t be running at all. Why don’t you suit up for tonight’s game? We need some help at fullback.”
    “I’ll tell you why, Coach. ’Cause I don’t feel like it.”
    “You’re wasting God given talents. You could go to college on a scholarship. You have the potential to go to Notre Dame!”
    Desmond looked bored, sat down. “No way, I ain’t even Catholic.”
    Coach Campbell let out an exasperated breath, turned to Nick. “All right, Grutler, we’ll let it pass this time. But in the future, try to stay out of trouble.”
    Nick had not expected an apology. “Yeah, sure.”
    When the coach had left, everyone went back to pumping iron, except for Desmond, who pulled on a torn crosscountry jersey and strolled outside. Nick caught up with him on the hot asphalt between the weight room and the gym.
    “Hey, I just wanted to thank you,” Nick said.
    The guy didn’t even slow down. “No problem. I got a real kick out of seeing you knee The Rock between the legs. I bet that pig can’t stand up straight for a week.”
    “Well, I won’t forget it. I owe you one.”
    “You don’t owe me nothing. But if you want to buy me a case of beer someday, I’ll drink it.”
    And with that, Desmond walked away.
    Nick did not go to the infirmary. He didn’t know where it was, and he didn’t want to run into The Rock and his pals if he was able to find it. He took a shower instead and afterward held a wad of toilet paper to the cut on his scalp. Eventually the bleeding began to subside. The resulting scar would be hidden under his hair, but because he had hit the mirror with the side of his head, and not the back, the flesh between his left temple and left eye had also begun to swell. He worried what his father would say when he saw it. His father had a violent temper.
    Besides having given him walking orders to stay out of trouble, his father had also told him not to come home that afternoon without a job. Nick had figured his best bet would be the nearby mall. He knew roughly where it was and thought he might be able to walk there in less than an hour. He’d worked before, in his old neighborhood, loading freight at the docks. He wondered if the stores in the mall would want him to fill out all kinds of papers before letting him show what he could do. He hoped not.
    Before he set out for the mall, he stopped at the soda machines in the courtyard. He was disappointed to discover he didn’t have enough money to buy a Coke. He was standing there, fishing through his pockets for a possible hidden dime, when a small Hispanic girl came up at his side.
    “May I?” she asked. He was blocking her way. He stepped aside hastily.
    “I don’t have the right change,” he mumbled. He’d seen the girl before, at lunch, sitting by herself beneath a tree hugging her knees.