Secrets: The Hero Chronicles (Volume 1) (27 page)

Please forgive me!!!! I will answer every question you ask.

Yours,

Nicholas

MY WAY

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“N
icholas, wake up. Come on, get up. You can’t need any more sleep. You’ve been asleep for 12 hours.”

I felt so alive, no sickness at all. I showered and dressed. I met Cora at the bottom of the stairs. She handed me a bagel and cream cheese and a cup of apple juice. I ran back upstairs to get Elle’s letter. Last night I was positive that I was going to throw the letter away, but now I was sure I was going to give it to her. I was confident that giving her the letter was for the best. Cora was already in the truck waiting for me.

“Are you okay, Nicholas?”

“Yeah, I feel great, Cora. I don’t know how to explain it. This is the best I’ve ever felt.”

“Well, that’s good, considering the day you had yesterday.” Cora was staring at me. She looked concerned. I couldn’t blame her. Last night I was dying, and today I feel more alive than ever.

“Not sure why, but I’m feeling like I can take on the world. So where are you taking me to get on the bus today?”

“I’m taking you to a bus stop on Hanover Court. I’ve got all of the stops mapped out for the rest of the year. Those poor reporters,” she snickered.

“Okay, the bus should be coming now,” Cora said as we pulled up to the stop. Sure enough, the bus was at the end of the street.

“Nicholas, don’t worry about anything. Everything will work out.”

“Okay.” I knew she was right.

I walked over to the bus stop with the rest of the kids. Cora waved. I smiled and waved back. The bus driver didn’t seem shocked to see me, but everyone else on the bus was. I sat down and the bus began to buzz with excitement.

“Hey, Nicholas.”

“Hey, great to see you.”

“Are you going to be riding our bus?”

Smiling, I tried to acknowledge everyone who talked to me. It was weird but today, instead of sinking down in my seat and trying to hide, I embraced the idea of everyone wanting to talk to me.

We went over the first speed bump before the school. That’s when I saw what looked like a large festival. There were news vans, tents, and trailers everywhere. People were swarming like ants. There were several police officers directing traffic. As a reflex, I ducked down in my seat. To my surprise, the people on the bus saw me and reacted in their own way. They put their backs up against the windows to block anyone from seeing inside the bus. They were protecting me. When we got through the sea of news people, everyone relaxed and sat back down in their seats. It made me feel so good that everyone on the bus would protect me.

We pulled up to the bus drop-off, and unlike yesterday, I was able to get off the bus without being mobbed. I walked toward the school, but then without thought, I turned and headed toward the sea of reporters. What was I doing? I had to confront them. I had to speak to them, but why? What would I say? What was the point of me going down there? The school and the students were willing to do so much to protect me, to make sure I was safe, but I didn’t want them to have to protect me. It wasn’t fair for one student to cause this much trouble for everyone. I couldn’t be that selfish.

Halfway between the buses and the reporters stood one lone police officer. He was the barrier between them and the school. His eyes were focused on the growing blob of media that oozed in every direction, trying to get as close to the school as possible.

When I was a couple of feet away from him, he turned and said, “Hey, you don’t belong down here, kid!”

“I’m sorry, officer, I forgot something down there.”

He put his arm up to stop me.

“Trust me, I forgot something.” I walked by him and I didn’t look back. I was so close to them now. It was too late to turn back. When I got to the edge, a couple of reporters saw me. Electricity ran through the group; a wave of reporters surrounded me, shouting all types of questions. Okay, I’m here. Now what?

I cleared my throat and the crowd went quiet.

“Hi, my name is Alexander Nicholas Taylor Keller.”

The crowd erupted into a chorus of questions. It was deafening. I held up my hand like a teacher does to quiet a classroom, and to my surprise, it worked.

“If you would like me to continue, then you must be quiet.” The majority of them quieted down and shushed the other reporters who were still talking.

“As I said before, my name is Alexander Nicholas Taylor Keller. I have been in hiding for the last five and a half years. My aunt and I decided that it was best for me to hide so that I could have a normal life. As you can see,” I motioned to the crowd surrounding me, “we were right.

“We moved here earlier this year and I have been attending Winsor High School all year. The entire school has been great to me, even willing to help me avoid you. But I can’t allow the school to treat me differently than any other student. It’s just not fair. I know you have questions for me, and that’s fine because I will answer as many as I can. That’s the reason why I came down here this morning, but it has to be my way. I will only take questions in writing, sent to the school and addressed to me. I will also do interviews by written request only.” All at once the group exploded with questions. I held up my hand again. They quieted, but not as quickly as before.

“But if you continue to stay out in front of the school or show up anywhere else to find me or harass any of my friends, I will not answer any questions. I will go back into hiding, and this time you will never find me. You have one day to leave here.” I turned and walked toward the school. They shouted more questions at me, but I ignored them. They followed me up to the police officer. He struggled to push them back, but managed.

“You forgot something, huh?” the police officer said.

“Yes, I did.” All of my actions were automatic. I was on cruise control. Something inside me was controlling everything. I knew that if I followed it, everything would end up perfectly.

I patted my jacket where Elle’s note was safely tucked away. Closer to the school, I could see two people standing outside by the main entrance, waiting for me—Principal Kitchen and Superintendent Spears. Mrs. Kitchen was smiling and Spears’ face was beet red. He looked like he had swallowed a whole bottle of hot sauce.

“What do you think you are doing, young man? We just watched you on the morning show.” Spears spat out the words like they were venom.

“Talking to the media,” I said.

“Well, I can see that. You should have talked to me, I mean us, about that decision. We went to great lengths to keep your secret and to keep the media away, and now on the first day with the new restrictions, you go out to greet them. What were you thinking?”

“Well, Superintendent Spears, the way I look at it, I just saved the school a lot of money because I won’t need all of this extra security. I am just like any other student now.”

“But, but—” He looked like he was going to explode.

“Thank you, Mr. Keller, for thinking of the school,” said Mrs. Kitchen. “We are both happy. Right, Superintendent Spears?” He didn’t move or even acknowledge Mrs. Kitchen. “Well then, off to class, Mr. Keller, and please don’t be late again or next time, detention,” she said with a smile.

The first four classes went smoothly, no problem. I talked to everyone who talked to me, and even some who didn’t. I still felt so alive. I even carried on a conversation with Melissa and Erin in biology. Their perpetual jabbering didn’t bother me at all for once. At last, no secrets. This new freedom was exhilarating. I headed to Coach Hoff’s class, excited to see Elle and give her the note.

The hall between fourth and fifth period was unusually packed with people. Standing in front of Coach Hoff’s classroom was Oliver with a couple of his friends. It didn’t matter who was out front because all that mattered was seeing Elle. Could this be the day when Oliver just smiled, or better yet, turned away?

“So you think you’re some big shot being on TV?” He was speaking a lot louder than his normal bullying. I realized he was doing this out here on purpose for everyone to see. He got what he wanted; everyone was watching us. His audience.

“Oliver, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. I just want
you
to get out of
my
school. You’re a big fake, Nicky—oops, I mean Alex, or whatever your name is. Some hero. Who knows, you could have lied about that too. And your parents are probably still alive and well.” He began to laugh.

The force and speed with which I pinned Oliver against the wall knocked his friends to the ground and petrified him. There was no fire inside me; I was completely in control. My heart was pounding hard, but not quickly. My rage was controlled—no sudden jerks of movement or any sudden force of power. My strength and speed were smooth and precise.

“Oliver, you may call me Nicholas if you’d like.” He struggled, but my forearm was under his chin, holding him firmly in place. “You shouldn’t worry about what people call me, and just because they put you on a couple of billboards does not make this your school. You shouldn’t worry about me so much. You should probably worry about yourself.” While I held him there, I couldn’t see his friends, but I knew they weren’t going to try anything. They were backing up, putting distance between themselves and Oliver.

“Oliver, you’re a loser,” someone yelled from the crowd. I let Oliver down from the wall.

“You think you have what it takes, Keller?” He coughed. “You think you are captain’s material? Then I challenge you to the rite of passage.”

Several people around us were giving him evil looks and saying things under their breath. I looked through the crowd making sure Elle was not there to see what had just happened. The last thing I wanted her to see right before I gave her the note was this ugly incident or Oliver challenging me to the rite of passage. Coach Hoff was walking straight down the hall toward the classroom. He looked at me and gave me a big way-to-go, that’s-what-I’m-talking-about wink. I turned back toward Oliver, but he was gone.

I walked into the classroom. I received a round of applause from some of the students already in there, but then my heart sank. Elle wasn’t there. I searched the room and saw Jennifer and Julie, but no Elle. For the first time all day, I grabbed my Tic Tacs and took two. Where was she? Why was she not in class? My confidence faded. I felt like everything I had done was for nothing if there was no Elle. Coach Hoff dismissed us immediately for lunch. I had every intention of going to eat in the lunchroom because I felt like being around people, but the staircase now seemed to call to me.

I sat alone under the stairs, eating my lunch. I was so ready to see her and give her the letter I had written, but now I didn’t know if I could. What if she was changing classes or changing schools? I was being ridiculous. Her parents would never move her because of me.

The door opened, but then there was silence, no sounds of anyone going up the stairs. I heard a few soft footsteps, and then she appeared in front of me. I blinked my eyes several times to make sure she was not an illusion. It was her. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look upset. I jumped to my feet, banging my head on a step. I grabbed the letter from my jacket and handed it to her. I didn’t say anything. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t think it was time to talk.

“Nicholas, you can come over tonight,” she said, then turned and walked away.

I felt better after lunch, even though she didn’t talk to me or look at me during class. Having confronted the media that morning, I decided not to bother riding the delivery truck home. It didn’t seem necessary anymore. I walked out to the bus and noticed that there were half as many news vans and tents as before. The only remaining crews were breaking down their mobile newsrooms. Feeling good, I sat back in my seat, but sank down just in case it didn’t work with everyone.

Cora was waiting for me at home with her arms folded. “So you’ve decided to do whatever you want now?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Going and talking to the media—what else could I be talking about?”

“You told me that I had to find my reason for staying here,” I reminded her impatiently.

“Yeah, and how does talking to the media help that?”

“I don’t know. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Nicholas, I am trying to protect you and you are making it difficult.”

“What are you protecting me from now?”

“This may work for a little while, but when they realize you’re not going to do interviews, they will be back and will try to find you.” Cora looked as angry as Superintendent Spears. Was she trying to control me too? “Nicholas, you still have to do what I say,” she continued. “Just because we aren’t moving, doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”

“So whatever happened to both of us making decisions together?” I asked.

“That option flew out the window when you decided to talk to every news person without talking to me first. You are going to do what I tell you to do, and that’s that,” she fumed.

“Cora, you are not my mom!” The words left my mouth full of anger and regret.

“You’re right, I’m not Beth—” Cora stopped mid-sentence and stormed into the house.