Six (14 page)

“The swimming tournament, Parker!”

“Oh, yeah,”
signed Parker, remembering.
“When do you leave?”

“Now. It's for the whole day. I'm . . .”

She stopped upon spotting something outside of the window.
“Hey! There's Katie!”

Emma leaned over Parker and signed for her friend to wait for her.

“I have to go!”
she signed.
“See you later.”

“Okay,”
signed Parker.
“Good luck.”

Emma was already scrambling through the line of students waiting to get off the bus.
“Thanks!”
she signed, and then ran off. Parker leaned back in his seat. He was in no rush to leave.

Looking out the window, Parker watched as Emma darted across the asphalt to her friend. They hugged and ran over to the waiting bus at the entrance gates, holding hands and giggling with giddy excitement.

“You planning on staying here all day?” called the driver's voice from the front.

Parker looked around and saw that the bus was completely empty. Reluctantly he stood up and made his way to the front.

“Smile,” said the driver brightly upon seeing Parker's glum face. “It might never happen.”

Parker forced a half smile, which disappeared the moment he turned to go down the steps. As soon as both feet touched the ground, the driver closed the doors, leaving Parker to face the steady stream of students entering the school. He reached up and pulled his hood over his head.

“Fall asleep?”

Parker turned and saw Michael standing by the rear of the bus.

“Hey,” said Parker glumly. “You just got in?”

“No. I was waiting for you,” said Michael. He picked up his bag and walked over to Parker. “How's the eye?”

Parker reached up to his face. He had forgotten about his eye. “Fine,” he said. “Want to skip school?”

The question took Parker by surprise as much as it did Michael.

“What?” asked Michael.

“I'm not staying,” said Parker with growing certainty. “Want to come?”

“Why?”

“No reason. I just don't want to stay.”

Michael hesitated. For a brief moment Parker wondered if Michael was actually considering the idea or just trying to work out how to say no. He suspected the latter, and he was right.

“I can't do it,” said Michael finally. “My parents would kill me if they found out.”

Parker thought about this for a moment, and then an idea came to him. “You can hack into the server and mark us in.”

Michael's eyes widened. “Are you crazy?”

Parker thought about this for a moment. Was it crazy? The more he considered it, however, the better the idea seemed. Suddenly animated, he grabbed Michael by the sleeve and pulled him over to the front of the bus, away from earshot of other students.

“Nobody will know if you hack into the system,” he said. “Just change it.”

“What would we do?”

“I don't know. Go hang out somewhere.”

Michael thought about this. “Well,” he said with a shrug, “my parents
are
away. Hilda's off today and I could call Brendan—he wouldn't say anything.”

“Great!”
said Parker. “Come on, Michael! Just once. I've never done this either.”

Michael was quiet as he considered what Parker was asking of him. In the end he shook his head. “I can't do it. I'm sorry. It's not right.”

Parker sighed loudly with the frustration of having a perfectly good plan thwarted for the second time that day. He was about to ask Michael if he could just sign him in instead, when an unwelcome voice called out to them.

“I was looking for you two.”

“I hate today,” mumbled Parker as Aaron approached with a glowering look on his face. It was not unlike the one on Parker's own face.

“I thought you'd be suspended,” said Parker dryly.

“Detention,” answered Aaron. “And nice to know you care. All week. I figure you owe me three dollars for each day. That's twenty dollars and we call it quits.”

“Fifteen dollars,” said Parker.

“I'm not bargaining with you.”

“No. I mean, three dollars a day times five is fifteen dollars.”

Aaron looked down at his hand and bent each finger in turn. “Whatever,” he said finally, turning back to Parker. “I want twenty dollars.”

“Leave him alone,” blurted Michael.

Both Parker and Aaron turned to Michael in surprise. Michael, in response, shrank back against the grill of the school bus. It was obvious that he was regretting speaking out.

“You ever fight your own battles?” Aaron asked Parker as he took a step toward Michael. Before Parker had a chance to respond, Aaron leaned forward so that his face was within inches of Michael's.

“Twenty dollars from him, and now twenty dollars from you, too.”

“I don't have twenty dollars on me,” said Michael. He was visibly shaking.

Aaron shrugged and reached up to Michael's face. Before either he or Parker had a chance to stop him, Aaron pulled Michael's glasses off.

“I'll take these instead, then,” said Aaron. He folded them up and put them into his jacket pocket, all the while keeping his eyes on Michael.

“Give them back to him, Aaron,” said Parker.

“Or what? You'll get your sister to hit me?”

Parker couldn't believe people this irritating existed in the world.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Parker. “Just give Michael his glasses back.”

Aaron smiled and shrugged. He folded his arms.

“Fine,” said Parker. He stepped forward, determined that one way or another he was going to get those glasses. His intentions were obvious; Aaron took a step back.

“Okay,” said Aaron before Parker could get to him. He pulled out the glasses from his pocket and handed them to Michael.

Parker didn't show any reaction. Inside, however, he was shocked at how easily Aaron had backed down.

Michael took the glasses and put them on as Aaron leaned in and whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“I'll find you at lunch,” he said. “And you'd better have my money. Or else.”

“But I don't . . .”

Michael stopped midsentence as Aaron stormed off. He turned to Parker.

“Let's get out of here,” he said. Then, without waiting for a response from Parker, he picked up his bag and walked straight out of the school gates without so much as a glance back.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Michael bit his lip in concentration as his fingers tapped away on his keyboard. Parker, standing behind him, said nothing in case he distracted him. It took no more than a few minutes before Michael raised his finger and dropped it down hard on the return key.

“Done.”

“Really?”

Michael stared at the screen. “I can't believe I just did that.”

Parker gave a small nervous laugh. “I can't believe it either.” He puffed his cheeks out and exhaled loudly. “Wow.”

Michael spun his chair around to face Parker. “I'll definitely be expelled if they find out,” he said.

Parker's earlier bravado had all but disappeared as the reality of what they were doing had sunk in. “Can they trace it back to your computer?”

Michael looked at Parker as if he'd just asked him the most inane question he'd ever heard. “No way. If they do try to trace the source, they'll end up at an Internet cafe in Panama. I meant, if somebody says anything.”

“I won't say anything. Brendan?”

Brendan had not said a word about coming to pick them up from a street corner two blocks away from their school, but, figured Parker, that didn't mean he approved.

Michael shook his head. “He'd never say anything to anybody. I trust him more than anyone I know.”

“Okay, then we're probably fine,” said Parker. He shrugged. “So . . . I guess we have a day off.”

The two boys stared at each other, both unsure what to do next.

“Race you?” asked Michael finally.

“Good idea,” said Parker, taking the seat next to Michael.

*  *  *  *  *  *

As they raced around the streets of a virtual Berlin, Parker struggled to keep his mind on the game. Guilt snaked its way through his guts: guilt for skipping class, guilt for the lies he would have to tell later, and guilt for bringing Michael into it. Not to mention the worry of being found out. And even if he did get away with it, Parker now realized that he would have to go back to school tomorrow and deal with what he had chosen not to deal with today anyway. Instead of it being a relief, Parker felt like he was just prolonging the agony and, though he didn't say anything, Parker suspected that Michael might be feeling the same.

At eleven, they went in search for food in the kitchen.

“Hilda will definitely know if we've touched anything in here,” said Michael, staring at the fridge packed full of food.

“She'd tell?”

Michael nodded. “Definitely. She is
not
like Brendan. Hard to believe they're married.”

Parker's eyes almost popped out of his head. “They're
married
?”

“Uh-huh.”

Parker couldn't work out why Michael wasn't looking as panicked as he felt. “Michael! Brendan is obviously going to tell his wife that he picked us up. How could you not have thought of this?”

Michael shook his head. “It's fine, Parker, honestly. He won't tell her. They hate each other.”

“Really? How long have they been married?”

“About thirty years. Dad said they've been like that as long as he's known them—she shouts at him and he says nothing. As long as Hilda doesn't find out, we're fine.”

He walked over to the pantry and looked around whilst being careful not to touch anything. Finally he reached out to the back of a shelf and emerged with a plastic container half filled with crackers.

“I don't think she'll notice any of these missing,” said Michael. He offered Parker the open box.

Parker reached in and was about to grab a handful when Michael stopped him.

“Maybe just four each. To be safe.”

*  *  *  *  *  *

They ate the crackers in silence, leaning over the garbage can so as not to get any telltale crumbs on the floor. Their mouths tacky and dry, they then cupped water in their hands to drink from the sink, just in case Hilda counted glasses.

Parker wiped his wet hands on his jeans and turned to Michael.

“Shall we just go back?” he asked.

Michael sighed in relief. “
Yes!
You don't mind?”

Parker shook his head. “I don't think I'm cut out for a life of crime.”

“Me neither.”

Parker shook his head as Michael walked away to get his cell phone, surprised at the sense of relief he was feeling. Even the thought of having to deal with Aaron again didn't bother him anymore—after all, he'd proved that morning that it wasn't so difficult to stand up to him. As long as they could get back into school unnoticed, everything would return to normal.

And then his wrist began to vibrate.

Parker jumped in surprise and flipped his hand palm upward.

His father's light was flashing.

Parker felt the blood drain away from his head.

“Shall I bring your coat and bag down?” shouted Michael from halfway up the glass staircase.

Parker looked up, nodded mechanically, and then turned his attention back to his vibrating wrist with a growing sense of panic. His father
never
called during schooltime. Never. It could only mean one thing.

Parker gulped.

His father had found out.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Michael returned with jackets and bags a few minutes later.

“You okay?” he asked as he dropped Parker's bag at his feet.

Parker felt like throwing up.

“Parker?”

Parker lifted his head slowly and stared at Michael. He wanted to tell him—he needed another head to help him think—but there was no way he could do so without exposing Effie.

“Let's go,” said Parker. He bent down—aware that Michael was staring at him—and picked up his bag with his vibrating arm. His father was not giving up.

*  *  *  *  *  *

If Brendan suspected anything was wrong when he arrived to collect the boys, he said nothing. Parker climbed in behind Michael and turned to face the window before Michael could engage him in conversation. Michael, it seemed, got the message and left Parker to his thoughts.

What am I going to do?
thought Parker desperately as he tried to ignore the persistent vibration from Effie. His mind was spinning in panic and fear.

Parker took a deep breath and tried to reason with himself.
Maybe he'll understand,
he thought. It was possible. After all, his father knew that it had been a difficult week for him. He'd get into trouble—obviously—but maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he thought. Parker's stomach lurched.

Unless the school expelled him.

As much as he had hated his first week, the idea of getting expelled was terrifying. His father would definitely not forgive that. He looked over at Michael, who was staring glumly out the car window, and another thought—worse even than him getting expelled—came to him. If he had been found out, then so had Michael. If the school expelled him, they'd expel Michael.

And it would all be his fault.

As subtly as possible, Parker turned his arm and stared down at the faint flashing light. At some point, he realized with a deep sense of dread, he was going to have to answer.

He waited a few moments longer, in case an alternative occurred to him, but none came. Finally Parker came to the awful conclusion that ignoring his father's call was just delaying the inevitable. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a few deep breaths, and then, as if he were ripping a Band-Aid off, he reached over swiftly and pressed down on his father's light.