Gabrielle's Bully (Young Adult Romance) Page 13

  They were running down, moving more slowly, both panting and gasping as they ran. They had agreed that the first one to reach thirty points would be the winner, and they each had twenty-six. It was difficult to say who had the advantage at this point; they both looked exhausted.

  Heath faked Jeff for a layup, and was the leader with twenty-eight points. I saw it register on Jeff’s face that one more basket would make Heath the winner, and knew that Jeff was going to pull something. He was as predictable as sunrise.

  Jeff didn’t wait to see who would win. He was too uncertain about the outcome. The next time Heath got the ball Jeff knocked it out of his hands and leaped on Heath, throwing him to the floor.

  Mike jumped up and Barb grabbed my hand. “Go get Miss Aynsley,” she said quickly. “They’re going to kill each other.”

  “Go to the office,” I said to her. “See if anybody’s there.” I knew that Miss Aynsley wouldn’t be able to handle this alone.

  Barbara fled in the direction of the main hall while I ran back to the storeroom which doubled as the gym office.

  Miss Aynsley was not there. A can of diet soda was on her desk, indicating that she would return, but that wasn’t going to help me now. I charged back into the gym, afraid to look.

  It wasn’t good. Heath had Jeff on the ground, pummeling his stomach. Jeff was obviously out of it, but Heath wasn’t letting up. The look on Heath’s face made me sick; he looked violent, cruel, like a different person from the one I knew.

  Mike had finally decided to interfere, and he was trying, without success, to pull Heath off Jeff. Heath heaved backward and shoved Mike away, starting in on Jeff again. Jeff was feebly defending himself but definitely taking a beating.

  Barbara returned with Mr. Jackman, the vice-principal, who sprang into action when he saw what was happening.

  “Dalton, help me here,” he said to Mike, who got up from his hands and knees. The two of them succeeded in yanking Heath away from Jeff. Heath still struggled, in the grip of a frightening, overwhelming rage. Jeff cowered away from him, dumfounded at the tide of fury his persecution had unleashed at last.

  “You come after me again, and I’ll put you in the hospital,” Heath snarled at Jeff. “You hear me, Lafferty? You hear me?”

  Jeff stared back at him, his eyes wide, wiping his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand.

  Heath lurched forward in a burst of energy and kicked Jeff on the ankle, which was the only place he could reach. “I said, do you hear me?”

  Jeff dropped his eyes. “I hear you,” he mumbled.

  Mr. Jackman and Mike pulled Heath back again, and Mr. Jackman said firmly, “That’s enough out of you, Lindsay. You’re new at this school and you may not be aware that we have a ‘zero tolerance’ policy regarding bullying here. I want to see both of you in my office tomorrow morning, Lafferty at ten, Lindsay at ten-thirty. And you’d both better be there if you know what’s good for you.” He said to Mike, jerking his head at Jeff, “Get him out of here.”

  Mike released Heath and put his arm around Jeff’s shoulders, helping him to walk. Jeff winced and doubled over, then straightened up and limped away, leaning heavily on Mike.

  Daphne came to life, picking up her coat and walking past me to follow them. She was as white as paper and her lips were trembling.

  “I guess it’s not so amusing now, huh, Daph?” I couldn’t resist saying to her.

  She merely looked at me and then turned away. I had the feeling she wouldn’t be encouraging any more macho displays in the near future.

  Mr. Jackman didn’t let go of Heath until Jeff and the others were out of sight. He looked over at me, standing beside Barbara, who hadn’t said a word since she came back with him.

  “You’re the Dexter girl, aren’t you? What’s your first name?”

  “Gabrielle.”

  “Well, Gabrielle, can I trust you with this madman?”

  I looked at Heath, who was staring at the floor.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How did this start?” Mr. Jackman asked, looking from me to Barbara.

  We exchanged glances, overwhelmed by the prospect of trying to explain the situation to an administrator. But I had wimped out the first time Jeff had picked on Heath. I wasn’t going to do that ever again. I could tell that Mr. Jackman was jumping to the wrong conclusion after seeing Heath hammering Jeff. I was going to make sure Jackman got the straight story. Fast.

  “None of it was Heath’s fault,” I finally said to Mr. Jackman firmly. “Jeff has been tormenting Heath ever since he got to this school. He wouldn’t let up on Heath, not for a minute. Heath tried to ignore him but it was constant, unrelenting abuse. Today Heath finally had had enough. That’s what happened.”

  Jackman stared at me. “The Lafferty kid was taking the beating, young lady. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Jeff started it!” I cried. “He always does. Ask anybody in school, ask Mike Dalton and the other guys on the basketball team.”

  “And you wouldn’t have a personal sake in defending your bully boyfriend here, would you, Gabrielle?” Mr. Jackman asked dryly, getting the drift and nodding disgustedly toward Heath, who still wouldn’t look at anybody.

  “She’s telling you the truth, Mr. Jackman,” Barbara interjected quietly. “Jeff has been on Heath’s case every day, I don’t know how Heath took it as long as he did. Jeff just got what was coming to him, finally. He’s the bully, not Heath.”

  Mr. Jackman closed his eyes. “I can see that this situation will require some interviews and a cooldown period to sort out.” He sighed, then opened his eyes. “Right now I want you to leave and promise me you will do nothing further about this.” He looked at all three of us.

  Barbara and I nodded solemnly. Heath glanced at him and then away, his expression bleak.

  Mr. Jackman sighed again and ran his hand through his thinning brown hair. “All right. I want you to see that Heath goes straight home with you, Gabrielle, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He gripped Heath’s shoulders and made him look up. “If I catch you anywhere near Jeff Lafferty again today I will not hesitate to call the police, do you understand me?”

  Heath nodded woodenly.

  Mr. Jackman released him. “And you’d better hope that there is nothing seriously wrong with Jeff or you are going to be in a lot of trouble.”

  He started to walk away, and then called over his shoulder, “I want you cleared out of here in five minutes.” He paused. “Why is the gym open at this hour anyway?”

  Barbara found her voice again. “We had a game, sir,” she said. “Miss Aynsley is going to lock up at six.”

  “And where is Miss Aynsley?” Mr. Jackman asked, raising his brows.

  Barbara shrugged.

  Mr. Jackman shook his head and strode off purposefully, doubtless to find Miss Aynsley and tell her she was fired.

  Barbara watched him go and then said, “I’d better get Mike.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t think he should drive home, do you?” She inclined her head in Heath’s direction.

  “No, I guess not.” It hurt me the way everyone seemed to be treating Heath as if he were a homicidal maniac.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said.

  I was left alone with Heath, who still stood where Mr. Jackman had left him.

  “Heath?” I said tentatively, not sure of the reception I was going to get.

  He didn’t answer, but his mouth started working, and he began to make a queer, choking sound, folding his arms across his middle. I realized with horror that he was trying not to cry.

  All fear of him left me, and I ran to him, wild to help and comfort him, to end his obvious misery. I threw my arms around him and pulled him close, trying to ease his pain.

  For just a second he remained unyielding, and then he grabbed me convulsively, almost lifting me off my feet. He stood wrapped around me, shaking so hard that I thought he might fall.

  The bare skin of his back w
as damp and silky under my fingers, and I ran my hands up and down his spine, loving the feel of him, attempting to show him with my touch that he wasn’t alone. I kissed his shoulder, his neck, and he shuddered, sinking his hands in my hair and raising my head, kissing me on the mouth. We stood locked that way, and I could feel him returning to normal with the assurance that I was still with him, that nothing had changed despite the ugliness of his recent behavior.

  “I’m sorry, Gaby,” he said against my mouth. “I didn’t mean to do that, he gave me no choice, he just wouldn’t quit. You know, you saw it, what else could I. . .”

  “Shh, shh,” I said soothingly. “It doesn’t matter now. Just try to calm down, we’ll work this out.”

  He made a small sound in his throat and kissed me again, pulling me tighter against him.

  “Gabrielle! I don’t think this is the use for which the gym was intended.”

  It was the absent Miss Aynsley, returning at the worst possible moment.

  I sprang away from Heath, mortified. Dear heaven, why did she have to see us? And parent conferences were in two weeks, what if she told my mother? Her already low opinion of Heath would plummet to new depths. How could I possibly explain that this wasn’t the way it looked? It certainly looked bad enough.

  “I suggest that the two of you make tracks,” Miss Aynsley said dryly. “I understand we’ve already had one unscheduled athletic event in here today, I don’t want another.” She surveyed Heath coolly. “Don’t you think you’d better get dressed?”

  Heath glanced down at himself, as if realizing for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his shirt. He walked over and picked it up, shrugging into it quickly, putting his coat over his arm. I got my things and we headed for the hall, as Miss Aynsley rattled her keys and locked the doors behind us.

  Heath closed his eyes and leaned against a bulletin board, totally spent. I noticed that his upper lip was puffy and he had a long, vivid scratch next to his right eye. The knuckles on his hands were scraped raw. Jeff had landed a few telling blows before Heath had gained the advantage.

  Barbara and Mike rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, walking toward us. Both of them were looking at Heath as if he might attack them at any moment.

  “How is Jeff?” I asked Mike.

  “He’ll live,” Mike answered shortly.

  “He’s not hurt badly?” I asked, remembering what Mr. Jackman had said.

  “I don’t think so, though it would serve him right if he were,” Mike said disgustedly. “He knew Heath could box, but he’s such a jackass he had to take him on anyway.” He cast his eyes in Heath’s direction. “How is he?”

  “I’m fine,” Heath said, not opening his eyes. “Please stop talking about me as if I weren’t here.”

  Mike smiled faintly at the return of the old, familiar Heath. “Glad to hear it, buddy,” he said. “What do you say we blow this dump?”

  “I’m for that,” Barbara said.

  “Let me drive,” Mike added. “You can pick up your car tomorrow.”

  Heath was in no mood to argue. He trudged along with us to the parking lot, silent, lost in thought.

  Mike’s car was a vintage Mustang that had seen better days. Heath and I piled into the backseat, which was split and disgorging stuffing. We had to clear a space by tossing hockey skates, a face mask, and several pucks onto the floor. Mike was a goalie on a regional team.

  Barb’s house was closest, and I got out with her and walked her to the door.

  “What are you going to do with Heath?” she asked me anxiously. “He looks terrible. I don’t think you should just let him go home by himself.”

  “I can’t take him to my house,” I said. “My mother would not be happy at all if she saw him.”

  “Can’t you stay with him for a while at his house?”

  “His father and that girlfriend of his are there,” I said.

  “Great.” She thought for a moment. “Why don’t you bring him inside? We can clean him up and he can take a nap, or something.”

  I stared at her. The upset of the past few hours had affected her mind. “Barb, if my mother would be unhappy, your mother would have hysterics.”

  She made an impatient gesture. “Oh, for God’s sake, Gaby, don’t be an idiot. My mother isn’t home. Remember I told you that she and my father were going to that conference? It’s only Margie, and she’s seen a lot worse.”

  Margie was a nursing student and worked part time in a veteran’s hospital.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll try to get him to come in.”

  I went back to the car and explained the situation. I thought that Heath might object, but all the fight seemed knocked out of him. He had expended it all on Jeff. He merely got out of the car and followed me to the house.

  “Tell Barb I’ll call her later,” Mike hollered after us.

  Barb’s sister Margie took one look at Heath and rolled her eyes. “Well, well. How does the other guy look?”

  “Worse,” Barb said.

  “I hope that’s some satisfaction,” Margie said. She pointed to a kitchen chair. “Sit right there.”

  Heath obeyed. Barb looked at me and grinned. Margie was going to play nurse.

  Margie washed the cut on Heath’s face and put disinfectant on it, and cleaned his hands, swabbing them with iodine. She touched the swelling lip gingerly, and Heath winced.

  “Better put some ice on that,” she said, getting an insulated bag from the pantry and filling it with cubes. Heath held it to his mouth gratefully.

  “Feels good?” Margie asked.

  Heath nodded.

  “Okay. Why don’t you take that with you and lie down in the room across the hall. I think what you need more than anything is rest.”

  Heath looked at me.

  “I’ll be right here,” I said to him.

  Margie took Heath to the bedroom and returned in short order.

  “Thanks a lot, Margie,” I said. She had certainly chosen the right profession.

  “He fell on that bed like a ton of bricks,” Margie said. “I don’t think we’ll be hearing from him for a few hours.”

  “You’d better call your mother,” Barb said to me.

  As I went to the hall phone I heard Margie say to Barb, “What on earth happened to him?”

  Barb’s low voice recounted the afternoon’s events as I dialed my number.

  Craig answered, which meant that my mother wasn’t around. He never picked it up if there was anyone else there to do it.

  “Where’s Mom?” I said to him.

  “She went to the store.”

  “Isn’t Daddy there?”

  “He’s in the garage, changing the oil in his car.”

  “All right. I’m at Barbara’s, and I’m staying for dinner. Will you remember to tell Mom?”

  “Of course I’ll remember,” said the boy who forgot everything, including his lunch, his bus fare, and his homework.

  “Put a note on the refrigerator,” I said.

  “I told you I’ll remember,” Craig insisted, in tones of righteous indignation at my lack of faith in him.

  “Craig, please do it now,” I said patiently. “I’ll wait while you write it.” All I needed was for my parents to get worried about me and start canvassing. I didn’t want to go through any elaborate explanations tonight.

  I heard the phone hit the table as he left, and then he came back on. “I wrote it, Gaby.”

  “Good boy,” I said warmly. He could be a charmer when he chose.

  I hung up and rejoined Barb and her sister in the kitchen.

  “What did she say?” Barb asked.

  “I talked to Craig and left a message.”

  “You’d better call back later, anyway,” said Barbara, who had had some experience with Craig’s lapses in concentration.

  “I will.” This was not a day to tempt fate.

  Margie got up and started pulling open cabinets. “Well, ladies, let’s see what we’ve got to eat.”


  We joined her in rummaging through the provisions, while Heath slept unaware on the day bed in Mrs. Collier’s sewing room.

  Chapter 9

  We made spaghetti and saved some of it for Heath. Barb and I were doing the dishes when she said to me, “Do you think we should call Heath’s house? Maybe his father will wonder where he is.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. I was used to Heath being responsible only to himself, but that was because his father usually wasn’t around.

  “I guess I’d better do it,” I said without much enthusiasm. What if I were asked some questions I couldn’t answer?

  The problem I was anticipating didn’t materialize. When I called Roger answered the phone and he told me that Heath’s father was out to dinner.

  So much for his imagined concern. I left the message that Heath would be home later and hung up, disgusted.

  Heath slept until nine o’clock. We were watching a movie on television when he stumbled into the living room, still half asleep.

  “Lazarus has risen from the dead,” Margie announced.

  “How do you feel?” I asked him.

  “I’ve felt better,” he answered briefly.

  “Do you want something to eat?” Margie said.

  He shook his head. “I’d like to take a shower, though, if I could.”

  “This hotel provides all the amenities,” Margie stated, with a sweeping gesture. “Follow me.”

  She led the way upstairs to the bathroom, and Heath trailed in her wake.

  “What do you think Jackman’s going to do to him?” I asked Barbara, following his retreating figure with my eyes.

  “I think it’s safe to say he won’t be giving him the Student of the Year Award.”

  “Seriously. What’s the penalty for fighting in school?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you have one of those handbooks?” The school published a student handbook each year with a list of infractions and the punishment for each. I had never paid much attention to it, but then again I didn’t go in much for fistfights.