Risen (6 page)

“I want to pay you. If you’ll really tell him to leave me alone.”

Jay leans in and whispers to me. “Should I take it?”

I know what he wants me to say. But I can’t. Instead, I just shrug. “Your call.”

Jay thinks for a bit. “Nate’s serious about beating you up? He probably says this crap a million times a day and then forgets about it.”

“I’ll give you a hundred bucks dude, seriously. Just tell him to bother someone else. Okay?” The skinny kid tugs on his shirt again.

Jay snorts. “I’ll talk to him and see what I can do.”

“I’ll give you the money after lunch,” the kid says.

Jay just sighs, but I can tell he’s secretly happy about it. “If you insist.”

“Promise you’ll do it?”

Jay’s jaw tightens. “Look, I said I would, now stop pestering me or I’ll beat you up myself.”

Both freshmen get quiet.

Jay relents, shakes off the sudden burst of rage. “Just kidding. I wouldn’t do that.”

They thank him and then hastily make their exit.

Jay watches them go. “That was weird.”

“You think he’s really going to pay you a hundo?” I say, watching as a few more kids straggle by us into the gym locker rooms.

“Easy money if he does.“

“It’s like he’s paying you protection money.”

Jay gives me a sideways look. “Say that again.”

“What?”

“Say what you just said right there.”

“I just—you know--“

“Spit it out.”

I stammer. “It kind of reminds me of paying protection money. Paying the mob to protect you or something.”

Jay starts to smirk. The smirk widens and widens. “Richardson, you have no idea what you just said. No idea.”

“You’re right, I don’t. What’s the big deal?”

“You’ll see, buddy. You said a mouthful.”

I don’t know whether to feel proud or terrified.

***

Right before lunch, Jay grabs me at my locker. “That kid came through early,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I say, tossing my books inside and slamming the door shut.

I give the combo a twist.

“Say hello to my new best friend, Mister Grant.” Jay whips out two fifty-dollar bills and fans them in front of my face, then quickly stuffs them in his back pocket.

“That kid actually paid you? Seriously?”

Jay grabs me by the shoulder and starts walking me away from my locker and down the hall. “Come on, now we’re going to settle this shit with Nate.”

I stop in my tracks. Students are walking by us, parting like the red sea. If it was anyone else but Jay Stevens standing in the center of the hall, you can bet people would be making comments, pushing us out of the way.

“I’m not going with you,” I tell him. “Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t you bring Alec or Nick?”

Jay smiles. “You’re my right hand man, though. My consigliere.”

The consigliere is an advisor in the mafia, at least, that’s what they called Tom Hagan in the Godfather. I’m baffled as to why he’d call me his consigliere until I recall how I told Jay that this situation reminded me of people paying the mob protection money.

Of course Jay took what I said and ran with it, twisted it into something else.

Even when we were little he was always that way, making everything bigger and more extreme than it needed to be. Like the time I told him about this huge mansion being built on Maple Avenue, about a half mile from my house. Jay decided we should go “exploring” because we could just walk inside, there weren’t even any doors or locks or anything yet.

Once we got inside, Jay decided simply exploring wasn’t exciting enough, and it would be awesome to start breaking all the windows and mirrors. He threw rocks through like five or six gigantic windows before some workers came back from lunch and nearly caught us.

I can still remember jumping out the back entrance, stumbling down the steep hill, and running at full speed like I was about to be shot at from enemy snipers. I’d never been so scared before.

The more things change, the more they stay the same I guess. Jay’s still as wild and unpredictable now as he was then. Only now instead of messing around in some empty construction site, he wants to mess around with Nate Diaz.

I shake my head. “Nate already almost kicked my ass once today. I don’t want to push my luck.”

“He’s not going to touch you, Richardson. Or anyone else I don’t want him to mess with. Nate Diaz is a loser with no balls. He wouldn’t last five minutes on the football field.”

“This isn’t the football field. Nate Diaz fights like you run passing drills.”

Jay grabs me again, this time harder, his hand clasping the back of my neck and squeezing. “You’re coming with me.”

For a moment my breath catches in my chest. I remind myself that Jay’s always had a temper and he’s always been crazy. The last thing I want to do now is give him reason to hate me. “Okay, okay. Chill.”

He loosens his grip and we start walking again. “You’ll see, Richardson, this is going to be easy.”

Nate’s a senior, so we climb up a flight to the twelfth grade hallway. Most people have already gone to wherever they’re going, and the hall is emptying. “Maybe he’s at lunch?” I say.

But just when we’re about to turn and leave, Nate and one of his shady friends rounds the corner and heads toward us.

“Great, two on two,” I mutter.

“Relax,” Jay says.

Nate’s friend is bigger than me, with tattoos covering both his arms. He wears a black t-shirt and ripped jeans. Work boots with the laces untied. He exudes menace and violence just like Nate.

Still, they seem prepared to walk by us, neither of them saying a word.

And then Jay calls out to him. “Hey. Diaz.”

“Yeah?” Nate turns with what at first glance appears to be a smile. Then I see that it’s more like a grimace, it reminds me of a dog showing its teeth before snapping.

I feel my stomach tightening and my legs weakening. Please god; don’t let this turn into a brawl right now, I pray. But prayer has never been my strong suit and I don’t imagine god listens to people who only pray when they need something for themselves.

Jay stands in the middle of the hallway like he owns it. “Some freshman kid says you’re threatening him.”

Diaz is in no mood. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Relax, I’m just making conversation.”

“You better keep walking unless you want to be picking your teeth up off the floor.”

Jay doesn’t seem too concerned. He scratches his cheek and yawns.

I try not to look at Nate’s friend, but he’s staring at me like a dog ready to feast on a pile of chicken bones.

“The freshman kid—“ Jay starts in again.

“I told you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He seems pretty scared. In fact, he gave me a hundred bucks to have a chat with you.”

“Sounds like a real idiot.”

“I’ll give you fifty to leave the kid alone,” Jay says.

I’m surprised. If I’m surprised, Nate and his shady friend are nearly speechless.

“You’re giving me fifty bucks?” Nate’s eyes are wide. For a moment, he seems almost human.

“Right. I figure you might as well get half. And then everyone’s happy.”

“Is this a joke or something?”

“Easy money.” Jay takes one of the big bills out and extends his hand to Nate, who hesitates, then finally grabs it and stuffs it quickly into his front pocket.

“This is that skinny kid with glasses we’re talking about?” Nate says. “Looks like Harry Potter?”

“That’s him.”

Nate laughs. “What a tool. I might still kick his ass, just because it would be hilarious if he paid you a hundred bucks for nothing.”

Jay stops smiling. “You touch that kid and me and you will have a major problem.”

“Right, right.” Nate laughs again and starts walking away.

I’m not sure what to do, I’m just relieved that they’re leaving and this incident is over. I haven’t dared to even take a breath for the last two minutes.

But one look at Jay’s face and I realize it isn’t over. Suddenly he springs forward and grabs Nate from behind, wrapping one of his heavily muscled arms around Nate’s skinny neck.

When Nate’s friend acts like he’s going to do something, Jay shoots him a look.

“I can handle both of you, just try me, scumbag.”

Jay has this weird grin on his face and his eyes are daring Nate’s friend to try something. Jay would really enjoy fighting both of them at once, I think. Right about now I’m just glad that I’m on Jay’s side because when he gets like this, he could do almost anything—break Nate’s neck or bash this other kid’s head into the wall.

I remember a time he got that way with me. We’d been playing Halo and I beat him for the third time in a row, started giggling a little when I won. Suddenly I felt his forearm across my neck and then before I knew what was happening he’d pinned me down on the couch and was screaming in my face. “You think that’s funny? HUH?

HUH?”

Jay finally calmed down after I’d apologized but I knew it had been really close.

He’d wanted to hurt me and just barely restrained himself. He’d had the exact same look in his eye that day as he does right now.

The conviction in Jay’s voice and the look on his face makes Nate’s friend reconsider. He stands there, not sure what to do. “Let him go, Stevens,” he says, but it’s not very authoritative.

Nate makes some gurgling noises as Jay applies more pressure to his neck. “See, I was being nice but you had to try and be a tough guy.” Jay gives another hard squeeze that makes Nate cough and choke. “How’s that feel, huh? Is it worth having your neck snapped to impress your retarded friend?”

Now Nate sounds like a cat trying to cough up a hairball.

A moment later, Jay releases him, and Nate staggers to the wall. He leans against it. “My fucking neck. Jesus.” His voice cracks in pain and fear. “Just leave me alone, okay?” He coughs and gasps. His eyes are closed and he looks to be in pain. “Oh, fuck.

It hurts.”

“You’re fine, tough guy. You’re gonna be okay,” Jay replies. “And if you do need to go to the emergency room, you’ll have fifty bucks to pay for it.”

Jay walks off and I make sure to keep up with him. I don’t even utter a word because part of me thinks that when he’s in this mood, I might not be totally safe either.

By the afternoon, news of the scuffle has circulated throughout the school and everyone’s buzzing about it. A few random freshmen even come up and ask me to verify it.

“You were there, right? Is Jay Stevens really a black belt in jiu-jitsu?”

“I heard he got him in a rear-naked choke, like it was the UFC.”

I just shrug. “Don’t bring me into this, I have no idea.”

But it’s a different story when Candice spots me getting a drink from the water fountain right before last period. She’s alone, which is rare for a girl like her who usually is surrounded by a cadre of cackling hyenas at all times.

“Hey, what’s your name—“ she says, tossing her red hair over one shoulder.

I straighten up and wipe my dribbling mouth with the back of my hand. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Richard? Richie? Dick?”

“Tim. Richardson.”

“Oh, right.” She comes closer still. “Is it true? Did Jay get in a fight with my cousin?”

“Jay just kind of put him in a choke hold and made him gag a little.” I pretend to be Jay and demonstrate how he strangled Nate with one arm.

She looks really annoyed for a moment, but then it changes into a little smile.

“Guess little Nate probably had it coming,” she says.

“Yeah. He kind of did.”

“And what did you do while this was all going on?”

“I just watched. What was I supposed to do?”

“You seem like the type who jumps right into danger.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of sarcastic?” I say, wiping my bangs away from my forehead.

“Don’t be so sensitive, Richie.”

“It’s Tim, thanks.” I try not to fixate on her lips, how they seem glossy and wet, especially because I don’t really like her or her cousin.

“Right.” She smiles. “Well, you might want to tell Jay that starting shit with Nate isn’t such a great plan. I mean, he might be able to kick Nate’s ass but I don’t think he wants to get into it with Joe.”

“Joe?”

“Nate’s older brother?” she says, smiling wider. “He just got out of prison a month ago for assaulting a police officer.”

I try not to laugh in her face. She seems like one of those girls who are always trying to prove they know more than you do. Even if it means just making stuff up.

“That sounds serious.” I can’t totally keep the disbelief out of my voice. “I’ll definitely let Jay know. He’ll probably want to do something to cool things off.”

“Oh?”

“Jay’s big on writing letters to people.” I remember the line he wrote about Candice earlier today and now I can’t help it…my mouth breaks into a wide smile.

“Letters.” She gets a puzzled, slightly mistrustful look on her face.

“The old fashioned kind. Quill pens, ink, an official wax seal, the whole nine yards. I’ll have him write something to Nate as an apology for what happened.”

“Real funny,” Candice says, her eyes narrowing. “You think I’m a total idiot?”

“I don’t know you enough to say either way.”

“Well I’m not, so let me give you some free advice. Don’t play the game unless you’re ready to pay the price, know what I mean?”

I stuff my hands in my pockets. “Like I said, we’ll be crafting a letter of sincere apology. Tell Nate to be expecting it by pony express sometime next week.”

She’s staring at me now without a hint of a smile. “Keep making jokes and see where it gets you.”

“I’m not joking, Candice,” I say, as if shocked at her suggestion. “Sorry you feel that way.”

“Too bad. You were actually kind of sexy in computer lab today, but turns out you’re not even worth my time.” And then she walks away.

Sexy? Did she actually say that about me? No one has ever told me anything like that, except in fourth grade when Samantha Edgar told me I looked like Luke Perry. But that was a long time ago.

I watch Candice leave, doubtful about how I chose to handle that particular conversation.