Undetectable (Great Minds Thriller) (34 page)

T
rained or not, he
still
knew he wasn’t supposed to let a kid tell him how to handle a bullying situation. Especially not when the kid in question was clearly in need of medical att
ention.

Kevin picked his head up. All of that was true, all of that was right, but he realized he was going to listen to Anselm anyway. Because Anselm had been kind to him yesterday, had told him to go to the doctor when every other student had been afraid
even to
speak with him. It mattered. It touched him.

He felt as though he owed Anselm something.

Also, he had to admit
to himself
that he liked the boy’s attitude. He could not remember having
ever
been as small as Anselm was now – little Kevin Brooks had never really been very little, especially when compared to the other children in his grade – and he was impressed by Anselm’s fortitude. By his decision to set his own terms in the small battlefield of his daily life.

Okay, kid
, Kevin thought.
Up to you
.

He stood slowly and resumed his
rounds, pacing
up and down the rows of computers. The other students had not noticed anything amiss; they were all still hard at work. Kevin made a point of giving Anselm’s area of the lab some extra breathing room, though he looked in that direction several times during the remaining class time.

He also tried to catch a glance of Connor Feeney’s knuckles each time he went past that boy’s station, in case there might be telltale signs of impact there. Feeney seemed as good a suspect as any, but Kevin was careful not to attract any attention.

There was a strong impulse to simply haul Connor up by his collar and drag him out of the room. Right or wrong, it would have felt good. But Kevin fought that impulse off, buried it somewhere deep in his stomach.

For Anselm’s sake.

The New Meat

Anselm hurried out of class when the bell rang, and no one seemed to notice anything. Kevin watched him go, trying not to be obvious. He wondered if Anselm would be able to make it all the way to the nurse without any
one else noticing his injuries.

He’ll be fine. He’s probably smarter than most of the teachers at this school.

That thought calmed him somewhat.
H
e knew it was true.

In the cafeteria Kevin felt another surge of anticipation, this time simply because he was hoping to have a normal lunch. Hoping to reassert himself as a lucid, laid-back, decidedly un-smelly person.

He collected what he thought Dr. Petak would consider a healthy, balanced meal on his tray, meat-starch-vegetable-fruit-dessert, and then he stood at the far end of the cafeteria, searching the room. Not caring that he seemed to be looking for someone in particular.

He
was
looking
, after all.

He wanted to sit down next to her and have her smile at him, smile the way she did with her students, with Elias Worth. It would be so easy. She would smile and then he would start talking, he would say we haven’t had a chance to talk at all, where are you from originally, and then she would say whatever she wanted, and it didn’t matter because at least he wouldn’t be smelly, at least he’d be able to concentrate and look at her and just speak to her. If he was boring or clichéd or everyday-ordinary that was fine, that was
perfect
, he could be charming and funny and Mr.
Athletic
Guy later; all he needed now was to re-establish a baseline, a vanilla foundation of regular that he could slowly
build
up
on
over the course of the year. She was going to have to come to this cafeteria every day, wasn’t she? It was required, it was part of the job. He would have nine full months to be creative and inspiring and whatever else was necessary, and once he made it to the end of next week he would be able to focus on being all of those things full-time.

It was a fine goal, he decided. Emily Beck.

“Find her?”

Kevin turned to discover Jean Lengard standing beside him, a little smile pulling on the corners of his mouth. Kevin didn’t bother trying to act confused. If there was anyone who deserved honesty about such things, surely it was Jean. “Not yet. How do I smell?”

Jean leaned surreptitiously closer, as though trying to sneak a better look at the contents of Kevin’s food tray. “Just right. Touch of man-sweat, but that’s what we’re after, isn’t it?”

Kevin turned to him with a questioning glance.

“No worries,” Jean said quickly. “You’re all set. And looking a lot better today, if I may say so.”

“Thanks. Sorry about yesterday.”

Jean waved him off. Now he was scanning the cafeteria, too. “Where
is
that beautiful girl?”

“No idea. At this point I’d settle for just sitting at the same table with her.”

“You and every other man in this building.”

“Do you know her?
About
her?”

Jean shook his head sadly. “Not really. She’s only been here a year
.
We’re friendly enough
,
but w
e’ve never had a real sit-down. Not the way I’d like. I tried to corner her last week, in between all those pre-year meetings. We chatted a little, and I asked if she was single. Just because it’s a hot topic, you understand. But she got grumpy about it. I couldn’t get a straight answer.” Jean shrugged. “I don’t know. At first I thought I had made her uncomfortable, maybe she thought I was asking for
me
– can you imagine? – but Beck’s no fool, so it couldn’t have been that. Maybe it’s something on the sly. She sure
acts
like somebody who’s got somebody, you know? She smiles all nice-nice at everyone, but never
too
nice.
”

Kevin nodded. He was on the point of asking something else when he caught a flash of light green from one of the far doorways.

“Ah,” Jean said, as if he had spotted a rare species of hummingbird. “There she is.”

They watched her cross the room, her head up, that easy smile on her face. And those bright eyes. With so many other eyes in the room watching. Some in secret, some with open, unabashed eagerness. Without taking his own eyes off of her, Kevin turned and spoke to Jean in a whisper. “How do I do it?” he asked. He was speaking urgently, as though he needed to have an answer before Emily reached the food line. “How do I get her?”

Jean snorted. “Don’t ask
me
. You’re the new meat in town, make it work for you. You’re
good
meat, too, and don’t forget it. You’ve got a better chance than most, if there’s a chance to be had. Take her dancing or something.”

Kevin turned to face Jean with an expression of disdain.

Look at me
, he tried to say with his eyes.
I’m light on my feet, but not that light. Dancing? Be realistic.

Jean stared back at him, unwavering. If he had received any of Kevin’s message, then the response was:

Don’t give me that. Take her by the hand, bring her onto the floor, and spin her around a few times. It’s what she wants.

“Go sit with her so that I can sit down with you,” Kevin whispered, ending their stare-off.

“What do you think I’m doing here?”

“I don’t know. Pressuring me to put on high-heeled dancing shoes.”

“They’d look good. Show off your butt.”

“Okay. Now you’re making me uncomfortable.”

“They
would
.”

“Sexual harassment. Right here.”

“I’m going to go sit down now.”

“Good.”

As If He Weren’t There

Jean played his role as well as he could, but in the end it made no difference. Emily Beck somehow managed to sit at the same table with Kevin Brooks and yet behave as though she were barely aware of him at all. She was as polite as could be: she said hello, she smiled her smile. And then it was as if he weren’t there. Not that he could claim she was ignoring him. If he said something, she turned to face him. She listened and nodded and then carried the conversation forward from there. But her eyes, her luminous eyes, never seemed truly locked onto his; they would touch down on his face gently, briefly, so that he could barely feel their weight, and then those eyes moved on, flew on, they went searching
for a resting spot that would
somehow
be
more suitable. More welcoming.

Though Kevin could not imagine what he was doing wrong.

When he came out onto the sidewalk at the end of the day he was still thinking about it, still wondering if he had imagined the strained atmosphere, the way his stomach seemed to turn the wrong direction every time she looked the other way. It hadn’t been
that
bad. After all, hadn’t he planned to be just an ordinary person, a normal person having a normal lunch? If he had said something strange or offensive, yes, that would have gotten her attention. But then he would have had to start from scratch on Monday. Then he would have had to atone not only for being foul-smelling, but obnoxious as well.

At least now she knew he was safe. He smelled a bit of man-sweat, apparently, but according to Jean, that was fine. New-meat fine. And he wasn’t prone to saying stupid things. He was
not
obnoxious. Two for two. Very good.

So why do I feel as though I just flunked a job interview?

He turned and headed for home. He had a schedule to keep, a schedule that the wise and caring Dr. Petak had recommended, and that schedule would not allow for this kind of self-indulgent rumination. He still had to socialize, exercise, eat again, rest again, and so on and so on until his system was back to normal.

After next week
, he promised himself.
Then you can stew about this business all you like.

As he walked away from the school, Kevin passed two uniformed police officers walking the other direction, and he gave them
a little nod. They nodded back.
The
y
were squad mates of the late Officer John Hulse, who had been run down in broad daylight two days ago in a hit and run. What
looked
like a hit and run.
A
Ford truck matching the description of the one at the scene had been found abandoned just three blocks from the accident
,
m
otor still running. Which would make sense for the panicked driver of a hit and run involving a uniformed cop.