Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 Page 6

  “Where will you be?”

  “Cheering.” She lightly punched my arm. “See ya.”

  “Bye.”

  Ostin was waiting for me outside the cafeteria doors. “Dude, that was awesome. Bones.” He put out his fist.

  I bumped it. “What was awesome?”

  “Our table became the cool table.”

  “Yeah. That was weird.”

  “And they love you. You’re in with the in crowd. I can’t believe Taylor is like all over you.”

  “No she’s not.”

  “Are you blind? That hottie’s got the hots for you, and she is H-O-T, hot.”

  “We’re just friends,” I said.

  “Whatever, dude. Whatever. So are we really going to the game?”

  “And the party after,” I said.

  “Wow,” Ostin said with a broad smile. “What a day.”

  After school I walked down to the cafeteria but Ms. Johnson had canceled detention because of the game, so I headed home alone.

  As I walked out the doors, Jack, Mitchell, and Wade were standing there. My first thought was that they were waiting for me, but the surprise on their faces convinced me otherwise. My stomach was a cauldron of fear and anger.

  Jack threw down the cigarette he was smoking. “What’s up, man?” he said. His tone was different than before—like we were now buddies or something.

  I didn’t say anything, but kept on walking.

  “How did you do that?” he shouted after me.

  I spun around. “Do what?”

  “Electrocute us.”

  “You want another demonstration?”

  Jack raised his hands. “We don’t want any trouble,” he said. “We’re good, right?”

  Wade took a slight step back, and Mitchell looked like he’d wet his pants if I said “Boo!”

  “No, we’re not good. I’m still on detention because I wouldn’t tell on you guys. You need to talk to Dallstrom and fix that.” I stepped toward them, suddenly feeling the liberation of having nothing to hide.

  I don’t know if it was old anger or new confidence, but I said to Jack,

  “If I have to spend another week in detention . . . ” I poked him on his chest and he jumped back, probably anticipating another shock.

  “Okay. I’ll tell Dallstrom it’s my fault”

  “Good, because if I have another week of detention, I’m coming after you.” I turned to Mitchell. “And you.” Then I turned my whole body toward Wade. “And especially you. And if you think it hurt last time, next time you’re going to think you were struck by lightning.

  You understand?”

  “Hey, no prob, man,” Wade said, his voice quivering.

  “We’re cool,” Mitchell said.

  “We better be,” I said, turning from them. As I walked away a large smile crossed my face. I just couldn’t help it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that good.

  Ten minutes later I knocked on Ostin’s door and he answered. “Hey, you’re back early.”

  “They canceled detention. So, can you go to the game?”

  “Yeah. My mom was so excited she almost fainted. She said, ‘Finally you’re doing something normal.’”

  “Just be sure to wear your clogging shoes,” I said.

  “They’re tap shoes.”

  I hit him on the arm. “Just kidding. I’m going home. I still haven’t asked my mom. I’ll call you in a couple hours.”

  When my mother got home from work she hung her sweater in her room, then started boiling water for spaghetti. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

  I had been excited to tell her about the game, but now that she was here I was afraid to ask her. I suppose I felt a little like I was letting her down. “I thought maybe I’d go to the school basketball game,” I said uneasily. “If it’s okay with you.”

  She turned to me and smiled. “That sounds fun.”

  “But then you’ll be alone.”

  “I think I can handle that. Do you want me to pick you up when the game’s over?”

  “Well, we’ve been invited to a party afterwards. It’s at one of the cheerleaders’ house.”

  She looked at me. “So, last night you had no friends, and today you’re getting invited to cheerleader parties. What was in that ice cream?”

  “It’s Taylor.”

  “She’s the cheerleader?”

  “Yeah. She’s kind of becoming a friend.”

  I don’t know the last time I saw my mother smile that wide. “Is she nice?”

  “She’s really great.” I looked at my mom. We had spent every Friday night together since we moved to Idaho. “You sure you’re okay alone?”

  She dropped the pasta into the pot. “Are you kidding?” she said, winking at me. “I’m just glad to finally get you out of my hair. Do you know how many books I have to catch up on? Just call when you’re ready to leave the party, and let me know where to pick you up.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, Mom.” I gave her a hug. I love my mother.

  Neither Ostin nor I had ever been to a school basketball game before.

  We sat near the floor at one end of the gymnasium. Ostin looked as out of place as a Twinkie in a salad bar. I panned the floor for Taylor, but I couldn’t see her.

  “These metal bleachers are bruising my butt,” Ostin said. “How long do these things last?”

  “You’re too soft,” I said, still looking for Taylor.

  “Your girlfriend’s over there,” Ostin said, pointing to a flock of cheerleaders on the other side of the floor.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, right,” Ostin said.

  I waved to Taylor several times, but she didn’t see me. Or at least she didn’t act like she did.

  The game was close and at halftime, Meridian was down by five points. The drill team had come out to do their thing when I saw Taylor walk over to our side of the gym.

  “Taylor!” I shouted.

  She didn’t even look up. Then she walked up to the end of our bench, where Tim Wadsworth was sitting. Tim Wadsworth was the guy every girl at Meridian dreamed of. He had perfect skin, golden hair with a soft curl, straight teeth, and a body that would make a Greek Olympic statue envious. Mr. Perfection was flirting with Taylor or vice versa. I couldn’t tell. As I watched her I got madder and madder. He was holding a Coke and talking to her. Then she took a drink from his cup.

  Without even thinking about it I surged.

  There were at least twenty people on the bench and they all jumped up at once, like they were doing the wave. Tim also jumped, spilling his Coke all over himself. At first Taylor just looked confused, then she looked down the bench and saw me. She glared.

  “Why’d you do that?” Ostin asked, rubbing his butt. “That really hurt.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said.

  We walked down to the floor and started to leave the auditorium when Taylor shouted, “Michael!” I turned around. She stormed up to me, her eyes snapping. She glared at Ostin. “Texas boy, leave.”

  “Okay,” Ostin said, quickly walking away.

  She turned back to me. “What was that?”

  I was twitching like crazy. “None of your business.”

  “It is my business when you act stupid and start drawing attention to yourself.”

  “You’re one to talk. You’re always the center of attention.”

  “I’m talking about drawing attention to your power.”

  “Is it really that you’re worried about or is it Tim Wadsworth?”

  “Tim Wadsworth?” Her expression softened. “Oh, I get it. You’re jealous that I was talking to him.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  She smiled. “Hey,” she said sweetly, putting her arms out. “Come here.” I couldn’t believe she had gone so quickly from wanting to hit me to wanting to hug me, but I didn’t really understand girls at all. I just went along with it.
“You know, Michael . . .”

  Touching her felt really wonderful. “Yes?”

  Suddenly she pushed me back. “Ha, you are jealous.”

  She had hugged me to read my mind. “You tricked me.”

  “Yeah, well you just shocked a whole row of people. The custodian is under the bleachers looking to see if there’s a loose wire or something.”

  “Well . . .”

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  Frankly, I didn’t know what to say. We both stood there stupidly when suddenly she started to laugh. She was soon laughing so hard she was crying. I just watched her. I was totally confused. “This is so crazy,” she said. “Could you imagine if these people around here could hear what we’re saying?”

  “They’d think we’re nuts.”

  “You should have seen Tim’s face when you shocked him. He had Coke dripping from his hair.” She looked into my eyes. “I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun. I’m so glad I’ve gotten to know you.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  She exhaled. “Well, I’ve got to get back to cheering or Mrs. Shaw will have my head. But you and Dallas are still coming to the party with me, right?”

  “Ostin,” I corrected.

  “Sorry, I keep getting that wrong.”

  “Yeah, we’ll come. If you still want us.”

  “Of course I do. It will be fun. Besides, I really have to talk to you about what I found out.”

  “Great. Where should we meet?”

  “Just come down to the floor after the game. See ya.” She took a few steps and then stopped. “By the way, you’re a lot cuter than Tim Wadsworth.”

  She spun around and ran back to the floor. I don’t know. It may have been the greatest moment of my life.

  Chapter Ten

  A Suspicious Coincidence

  The end of the game was pretty exciting. Meridian was ahead by just one point with three seconds left on the clock when they fouled Cottonwood’s best player, sending him to the line to shoot free throws. He must have been pretty nervous because he missed both of his shots badly—one of them by at least ten feet.

  Everyone went wild. After the game Ostin and I walked down to the floor. Taylor was surrounded by a couple dozen friends but she smiled when she saw me. “Ready to go?”

  I nodded.

  “Angel’s dad is going to give us a ride to Maddie’s.”

  “Me too?” Ostin asked.

  “Of course.”

  The four of us walked out to the parking lot. Angel was a pretty Asian girl, and Ostin just stared at her until it was embarrassing.

  Finally she stopped and turned to him. “What?”

  “Ostin,” he said, putting out his hand to shake.

  She looked at his hand, then slowly put out her own. “I’m Angel.”

  “Are you Chinese or Japanese?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Chinese.”

  “Were you born in China?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “What brought your parents to America? Opportunity? Freedom of speech?”

  “My parents are American,” she said. “I was adopted.”

  “Oh, you’re adopted.”

  I wanted to smack him.

  “Sorry, Angel,” I said. “Ostin doesn’t get out much.”

  “Hardly ever,” he said.

  She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

  “And I think you’re the prettiest girl in the world.”

  “Enough,” I said to him.

  I noticed that Angel smiled.

  Maddie’s home was on a long, tree-lined street called Walker Lane, where the rich kids in our school lived. I think her home could have fit our entire apartment building in it and still have had room for an indoor swimming pool, which, by the way, it had. It was the first party I’d been invited to since we moved to Idaho, unless you count Ostin’s last birthday party, which was only me and his obnoxious cousin, Brent, who only came because his aunt made him. Brent broke a bea-ker in Ostin’s new chemistry set within five minutes of Ostin opening the box. I thought Ostin would have a mental breakdown.

  Angel’s dad drove a nice car, a BMW with leather seats the texture and color of footballs. I knew it meant nothing to these kids to ride in a car like that, but I thought it was really cool. So did Ostin.

  He was grinning like a Cheshire cat, though it also may have been because he was sitting next to Angel. When Mr. Smith dropped us off I said, “Thank you, sir.”

  He smiled. “It’s nice to see that not everyone’s lost their manners.

  You’re welcome, son.”

  As we walked up to the house, Taylor took my arm. “Well played.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “You’re a real gentleman.”

  The stairway to the house was lined with little pointy trees growing in ceramic pots. I stopped at the door. I don’t always notice my vocal tics, but I was gulping loud enough to get Taylor’s attention.

  Taylor looked at me. “You okay?” she asked.

  I stopped gulping. “Yeah. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

  “It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. We’re just here to have fun.”

  I took a deep breath. “All right.”

  She opened the door and we were met by a rush of music and light. The house was filled with kids. Maddie, one of the cheerleaders we’d met at lunch, was standing by the door talking to several basketball players. The only one I knew was Spencer.

  “Hey, Tay!” Maddie shouted. The girls hugged. They did a lot of that.

  Spencer looked over. “Hi, Taylor.”

  “You were awesome tonight, Spence!” she said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You were awesome.”

  “Thanks, little dude.”

  Maddie looked at me and cocked her head. “What’s your name again? Trent? Trett?” I suddenly realized that she was thinking Tourette.

  “No. It’s Michael.”

  “Michael. I wonder why I thought it was Trett.”

  “And I’m Ostin,” Ostin said.

  She didn’t even look at him.

  “You have a nice house,” I said.

  “Yeah.” She patted my arm. “Well, have fun.” She flitted off.

  Ostin was clinging to me like lint to a belly button—at least until he spotted the food table. “Hey, hold the phone, I’ll be right back.”

  Taylor turned to me. “Hold what phone?”

  “It’s just a saying. He found the food.”

  “Good. They’ll be happy together.”

  A moment later Ostin returned carrying a plate brimming with potato chips and brownies. “This stuff is great.”

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Taylor said.

  “My home is nothing like this.”

  “Would you like a drink?” I asked Taylor, surprising myself at how formal I sounded.

  She reciprocated my tone. “Why yes, kind sir. Thank you.”

  “Come on, Ostin,” I said.

  On the way to get a soda, Ostin said to me, “I never thought I’d be invited to a party at a place like this.”

  “I never thought I’d be invited to a party,” I said.

  The food table was in the middle of a luxurious dining room where lit wall insets held porcelain statues spaced evenly between large, original oil paintings mostly of fruit bowls. In the center of the food-laden table was a large tub of ice, packed with bottled water and cans of soda. Drew walked up to me.

  “Hey, it’s little Chuck Norris. Give me some,” he said, raising his hand.

  “Hey, Drew,” I said. I set down the cup and we high-fived, clasp-ing hands as we did. He fell to one knee pretending I had him in some kind of kung fu grip. “Don’t hurt me, man,” he laughed. “Don’t hurt me.”

  I chuckled nervously. “Hey, congrats on the game. You guys played really well.”

  “We dodged a bullet, man. Cooper is their best free throw shooter and he tossed two brick
s in the last three seconds. We were lucky.”

  Living alone with Mom, I had never engaged in small talk about sports, so I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right. “Well, you know what they say about being lucky . . .”

  Drew looked stumped. “No. What do they say?”

  “It’s better to be lucky than good.”

  He looked at me for a moment, then laughed. “You’re all right, little dude.”

  “Hi,” Ostin said.

  “Hey, what’s up, Houston?”

  “Nothing. Just hanging.”

  “Houston, we have a problem,” Drew said, then burst out laughing at himself.

  Just then a mountain of flesh named Corky walked up behind Drew. Corky was the size of a small planet and had an entourage of girls who moved around him like satellites. I knew who Corky was only because he was always being called up onstage at the school as-semblies for winning some award or another. The last thing he’d won was the State Heavyweight Wrestling Championship. He took Drew in a choke hold, then released him. “Drew-meister, what gives?”

  “Just hanging around the oasis with my little black-belt friend.”

  Corky looked me over. My head barely came to his chest. “This isn’t the guy you were talking about.”

  “He’s the man,” Drew said. “Little Chuck Norris.”

  “He’s a shrimp.”

  “Only on the outside,” Drew said. “On the inside he’s a powder keg of pain, just waiting to explode on someone.”

  Corky laughed. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? I could crush him like a bug.”

  “I’d like to see that,” said Drew. “Battle of the Titans.”

  Corky pointed a massive finger at me. “You’re talking about the little guy?”

  Drew put his arm around me. “This is exactly who I am talking about.”

  He looked at me incredulously. “C’mon, little guy,” he said, gesturing for me to follow him. “Let’s go outside and spar a little. I want to see what you got.”

  Drew laughed. “He’ll mess you up, dude. I’m not kidding.”

  “I’ve got to see this,” one of the girls said.

  “I’ve got to get Taylor a drink . . . ,” I said.

  “She won’t die of thirst,” Corky said. “C’mon, I won’t hurt you.

  We’re just playing around.”

  Just then Taylor walked up. “Hi guys. Hi Cork.” She looked around. “What’s going on?”