The Rule of Won (13 page)

Relatively sure they'd forgotten about me, I stood and crept to the door. It had one of those shatterproof windows in it, with the wire embedded in the glass, so I could see Vicky standing outside, biting one of her bland, pictureless fingernails. Ethan leaned against the wall, head hunched over, hand cupping his cell phone to his ear. The phone was last year's model, but a fancy-ass thing. The numbers glowed red, lighting the bottom of his face a little in the dim hallway, making him look a little devilish.

The side door to the library is usually locked. On the way out, one of them must have kicked down the doorstop, to leave it open a crack so they could get back in. That meant if I got a little closer, I'd “accidentally” hear what they were saying. So I did.

Getting as near as I dared, I leaned back against one of the painted cinder-block walls that made up the door frame and looked sideways at them through the door window as I chewed a cookie.

Ethan was obviously upset at whatever he was hearing.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted to help,” he hissed. He shook his head “no” a bunch of times, like whoever was on the other end of the line could see him.

“Alyssa . . . Alyssa . . . listen . . . Yeah, yeah, of course people should study, but this is a different kind of studying . . . They're in the class all the time, listening subconsciously and . . .”

I could guess from the way his face rattled with rage that kid sister Alyssa really wasn't particularly interested in hearing about different kinds of studying.

Vicky was at his shoulder, tapping him, saying, “Tell her . . .” and then something I couldn't make out, but Ethan kept waving her off. After some agitated back and forth, he looked ready to blow.

I was starting to like Alyssa, even though I'd never met her. Aside from her talent as an artist, apparently she had some integrity because, judging from the way the color drained from Ethan's face, she was sticking to her guns.

He should have tried a cookie.

“Alyssa. I'm . . . Fine. Fine. FINE!”

He snapped his phone shut and turned to Vicky. This put me in his line of sight, so I darted to the side where I couldn't see them anymore and hoped they couldn't see me.

I could still hear them, though.

“She's got this stupid idea that people should pass or fail tests on their own, without imanifesting. She doesn't see the big picture . . .”

“I know you're worried—”

“I'm not. I'm not worried at all. No negative thoughts. This is great. Perfect. It's making me finally realize we don't need Alyssa's help. We never did. We have the power without her.”

Hearing that, all the misgivings I'd been having about the Crave,
The Rule of Won
, and Ethan began sticking to each other like soft sugary nuggets of dough, rolling themselves into one big yummy chocolate chip cookie of doubt. Despite what he was saying, suave, sophisticated Ethan looked like he
wasn't
sure we didn't need his kid sister.

What was up with that? I mean, Alyssa was a great artist
and all, but did he think she was magic? Was she linked to his mesmories? Did she remind him of his dead mother? This was the first crack in his armor I'd seen, and for me, it was a big one.

I was thinking Mr. E and I should have a chat about how the universe worked, or didn't, and maybe this time I'd listen. But I didn't have trig again until tomorrow. It could wait a day, I figured.

The bell rang. Social studies. The side door was closer, but I didn't want to risk being spotted, so I grabbed my bags and hustled out front with the crowd.

It didn't work. By the time I'd rounded the corner, I heard Vicky calling, “Caleb! Caleb!”

It wasn't because she was speaking to me again; it was because she was angry—furious, from the look of her. She raced up, blond brow knitted, eyes flaring. She all but leaped in front of me, cutting off my path to the exit.

“Hey, Vi—”

“I saw you by the door. You were eavesdropping.”

“I was not! What sort of person do you think I am?”

She stared at me. Lying was too much of an effort.

“Well, okay, maybe a little.”

The crowd, trying to exit, moved to either side of us, bumping as they passed. I wanted to get away from Vicky fast, but it was like we were caught in a little bubble in the middle of a river of people.

“That was a private phone call!”

I shrugged. “Then he should have had it in private instead
of in the middle of a hallway. I mean, what is it with some people on cell phones that makes them think the world vanishes just because they're on a call?”

“You had no right. It was none of your business. I don't want you telling anyone else in the Crave about it. Not if you still want to be a member.”

That brought me up short. Vicky threatening to kick me out? Vicky? The one who insisted I join in the first place? I didn't even know people
could
be kicked out.

It pissed me off.

“Yeah, well, I'm thinking of quitting anyway.”

I think that surprised me more than it did her. Still, she was the one who took half a step back. “But . . . it's been so good for you.”

“Has it? I'm not so sure.”

Disgust filled her face. “Are you so into doing nothing that even wishing is too much of an effort?”

“It's more than that. The whole thing's getting screwy and something bizarre is going on with Ethan and his sister, isn't it? He's not sure
The Rule
works without her. Maybe that means he's not sure it works at all.”

She crossed her arms. “If you heard that, then you heard him say we don't need her. The power is ours. It always has been. You're just afraid of that, Caleb, afraid of your own power, afraid of everyone else's. I used to be like you, but I'm not anymore. It's a great big world out there full of treasures, and I'm going to grab every one I can!”

“Like Ethan?”

She stumbled for a second, then looked defiant. “Yes, like Ethan. We're together now. And you didn't even try to stop
that
, did you?”

“Maybe . . . maybe I didn't want to.”

She moved her head back, like I'd hit her, but an Ethan-like sneer came across her face pretty quickly. “That's just an excuse. You're a coward.”

“Really? Why is it when something happens that Ethan doesn't want, it's still because somehow he really wanted it? Isn't that totally screwed up? I wanted it to happen even though I didn't want it to happen? What the hell does that mean? And if you're not afraid of anything, why don't you even paint your fingernails anymore, huh?”

I was shouting by the end of that, and if I thought Vicky wasn't talking to me before, she
really
wasn't talking to me now. She didn't move out of my way; she just stood there glaring. But she let me go.

I wasn't actually thinking of quitting before I said it, but I warmed to the idea fast. With the new gym wing almost up, my life was practically back to normal. Even if the book was right, this might be just the opportunity I needed to return full-time to my old independent slacker ways.

There were, unfortunately, two problems with this line of thinking.

The first was the other Cravers, who, as I'd already mentioned, were starting to get a tad fascistic. The group was so big now that quitting it could leave me as much on the outs at SNH as I was when everyone thought I'd destroyed the school.

The second was Erica. I already thought I should tell her I didn't want to be her boyfriend, but how could I also say I was thinking of quitting the Crave? There was a good chance one or both might yank her out of her algebra groove.

This being Thursday, and the midterm being on Monday, I took the slacker way out and decided it was best to do nothing and wait. I was hoping I could run some of this by Mr. Eldridge, though.

As it was, an old saying that contradicts the basic precepts of
The Rule of Won
turned out to be true: the best-laid plans of mice and men oft go astray.

The next day, Friday, Eldridge was out and we had a lame substitute who let us “read quietly” in our seats. This sucked. Eldridge was never absent. Eldridge was never sick. He didn't get sick. He was, after all, an alien or a high-powered robot from the future.

I was so disappointed not to have someone to bounce all these thoughts off of that I even considered speaking with Moore and Co., but I couldn't find them either. Mrs. D was available, but I was afraid she'd just tell me to float.

By midday, between fourth and fifth period, late-morning sun streamed through classroom doors jammed with students. The roar of the crowd was just about even with the rush of construction. I'd had two Motrin earlier, though, and my head wasn't hurting too bad.

I was leaving bio on my way to gym when Erica stopped me.

“Yo, Dunne!” she said as she came out of a classroom, smiling sweetly. “Is everyone gonna pass that algebra test or what?”

I wanted to say, Well, technically, we'd all have to be
taking
algebra to pass the test, and I, for instance, am in trig, but I didn't. Instead, I just said, “Hell yeah!” and fell into step beside her.

Maybe Vicky was right; maybe I am a coward.

“We on for tomorrow?” she asked, sounding a little nervous.

“About that, Erica—”

“Hold that thought,” she said. As we walked, she took her book out and wrote in it. I was afraid for a second she was writing “Caleb Dunne will study with me,” but I could tell, just from the movements of her pen, what she was writing. Only now she'd generously changed “I” to “everyone in the class” to match the group Crave.

“Haven't seen you do that in a while,” I said, nudging her shoulder. “I have to tell you . . .”

Before I could finish, there was a loud hooting down the hall. Far off, people stopped in their tracks as their heads twisted to follow someone moving along at a full run. Whoever it was, judging from the way the crowd was splitting, he was headed our way.

“We did it! We did it!” someone screamed.

Among all the arms and legs of the Screech Neck student body, I made out a large male form running along, yipping and hollering, hands in the air like he'd just crossed the finish line at a marathon.

“We did it! We did it!”

It was Dylan.

Before he could run past us, I flagged him down.

“Dylan, what'd we do?”

He grinned at me, wild eyed. “Our new Crave, man, it worked! Everyone's passing the algebra test! Whoooooohoooo!”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute! The test isn't until Monday. How do you know everyone's going to pass?”

He could barely contain himself. “Eldridge was in a freaking car accident! He's out for at least a month! Everyone's taking Blubaugh's easy-ass test! It's a slam dunk! We did it!”

Then he started hooting and jumping up and down again.

Erica, meanwhile, looked like someone had punched her in the gut.

“Is he all right?” she asked softly.

I turned to Dylan. “Yo! Eldridge? He okay?”

But Dylan either didn't hear me or didn't want to. He just kept hooting and jumping. Then he ran down the hall, screaming, “We did it! We did it!”

We'd certainly done something.

• We're all upset about what happened to Mr. Eldridge, but Ethan wanted me to make sure everyone understands that we're not responsible. Mr. Eldridge chose to live as a very negative person, and negativity attracts negative events. Whether he realized it or not, he wanted his brakes to fail. His path brought him there. His choices. There is no reason any of us should feel bad about it. —Vicky

• I would still like the greatest gaming system in the world, the Xbox. A 733 MHz Intel main processor and 233 MHz graphics processor from nVidia create photorealistic graphics in real time. A huge hard drive stores saved games and characters, and a built-in Ethernet port enables super-fast multiplayer online gaming over a broadband Internet connection. —Landon

• I can't deal with this. Things are getting too freaky and people are getting hurt. I'm out of here. Patience and peace for everyone! —Will

• Ethan and Vicky are right. We should stop whining. The universe is a big and complicated place. What we want is part of that, but so is what Eldridge wanted for himself. So let's shut up and move on to our next Crave! I want to work on passing chemistry next. Mrs. Baxter was out last year with some kind of illness. Maybe she could have a relapse. —Jacob

• I still want my brother home. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I don't really care what it takes or what else it changes. He missed our last IM session and we haven't heard from him in a few days. Yesterday my mother was crying in the middle of the day. I want him home. —Alex

• I think deep down Mr. Eldridge was hoping for a wake-up call. He sure got one! Maybe when he comes back, he'll understand better how
The Rule works.
It's a blessing, really! We can't stop now! How about we turn the whole Screech Neck economy around by getting everyone to buy
The Rule of Won?
Me, I want to imanifest a whole flock of monarch butterflies outside my window every morning! —Grace

• Still no Porsche, but I have made a breakthrough. I understand now that it's not selfish to want things even though certain people might try to make me feel bad about it. I don't feel bad, I feel good, okay? I just want to feel good. Is that so wrong? —Colleen

• More than anything I have ever wanted, more deeply than
anything I have ever felt or imagined, I want yesterday not to have happened. —Erica

• Screw Eldridge. He had it coming. —Dylan

• I'm sorry the guy got hurt, but I'm glad to be part of this. If people feel bad about it, though, maybe we should make Eldridge's recovery our next Crave? Or at least send him a card? —Mike