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I went into defensive mode the second I detected Kenny's tone. I spotted Jeff chillin' with a few friends. One was beefy with a buzz cut. The other was a tall, popular kid the girls were all crazy for. Hm. The darting eyes. Stiff postures. They were plotting strategy. One of the pals smacked Jeff's arm, jerked his chin to the west.

Brandon. Should have guessed.

I whipped open my cell, dialed the school, and got the cavalry coming, never taking my eyes off Brandon as I talked. He wasn't hurrying. He was strolling. What the hell was he trying to do? Get himself killed?

Time
to
kick
ass.
Kenny was at my side, his eyes—my eyes—cold.

“Intimidate first. Kick ass
only
if it's necessary,” I said out loud.

Three against one. I'd faced worse odds before. I could do it if I had to. I really hoped I wouldn't have to. With a wince, I remembered the last time I'd fought off multiple attackers. So much blood.

“Hey, guys.” I was going for calm and cool as I approached the group, positioning myself between them and Brandon. By the way they'd jumped, I must have been anything but.

“Back off, Ellison.” Jeff took a step toward me.

“Can't do that, Dean.”

He grinned, took another step. “Uh, not sure you noticed, but I brought friends.”

“Yes, I see that.” And just to totally mess with their minds, I held out my hand to one. “Hi. Dan Ellison.” And then the other. “Hey, I'm Dan. Good to meet you. You should know I've already called the police and school security.” I cupped a hand to my ear when I heard a siren in the distance. “Ah. That must be them.” I grinned. They backed up.

“Come on, man, let's get outta here,” the first kid said to his pal.

“Good idea. I'd hate to mess up that pretty face. Might mess up your bid for prom king.” I let the smile drip off my face. “But I'd do it.”

Pretty Boy jerked his head, and Buzz nodded. “See you later, man.”

“You guys suck.” A vein throbbed in Jeff's neck. He shot a nervous look over his shoulder when the siren came a bit closer. “This isn't over. You can't protect the little dick forever.” He stalked off. The siren kept going to wherever it was heading.

Brandon looked at me. “You never called the cops.”

I nodded. “True. But they didn't know that.”

“I didn't need your help.” He wouldn't meet my eyes. What the hell was he thinking?

Give
him
the
point, dude
, Kenny suggested.

“You're probably right.” I shrugged. “I saw three against one and had to even the odds a bit. But I really just gave them an out. I figured they didn't really want to fight.”

“Dean does.”

“Yeah, well, he's deranged.” I was suddenly impatient with the game and blurted out what was really on my mind. “Okay, enough. Just what the hell were you trying to do?”

Brandon's eyes went round before they lowered. “Nothin'. I was just minding my own business.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save it for the principal. I'm not buying it. I watched you. You were baiting the hook. I swear, if you were female, I'd have said you were working it, man. Now tell me why.”

Brandon's face reddened. “None of your goddamn business. I didn't ask you to butt in.”

“No, but I
am
in, and if I'm gonna get my ass kicked saving yours, I damn well wanna know why.” I glared at him, and he caved under the weight.

“I was gonna do it, Dan. I was finally gonna stand up for myself and get Dean off my back.”

I stared at him for a minute. I knew Brandon was hurting, but this was just crazy. “And the fact that he brought backup didn't change your mind?”

All the color fled from his face. “I…I couldn't back down now. It…well, it would have been worse.”

He had a point. Still. It didn't sit right with me, this bravado of his, but the bell rang. I leaned down, grabbed the backpack he'd dropped to the grass. “Here. Next time, just call me, okay?”

He grabbed the pack like it was filled with treasure and ran into the school. I watched with my hands on my hips, thinking.

He
lied
to
you,
Kenny said.

Yeah, I noticed that.

He
looked
like
you
did
in
juvie. That “I'm not gonna take it anymore” look.

I nodded. I'd noticed that too.

————

I was late to first-period speech class. I had to stop at the principal's office and tell Mr. Morris what happened. Sure, it was snitching, but I was determined to make Jeff's life as difficult as I could. I didn't know Pretty Boy and Buzz's names—they'd never introduced themselves. Bad manners. Appalling really. Anyhow, there were only about twenty-five minutes of class remaining by the time I got there.

“Mr. Ellison, nice of you to join us today.”

“Sorry, Mr. Williams. I have a pass.”

He took it, glanced at it. “I hope whatever business you had in the principal's office is concluded.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.” See? I had manners. I took my seat, my face burning, aware that every eye in the classroom was trained on me.

“What the hell happened?” Julie whispered.

“Dean,” I muttered.

Just then, the PA system crackled to life, and the principal called Jeff Dean to his office. Every head in the classroom swiveled his way as he collected his stuff and left, glaring at me the whole way.

I heard her suck in air and then she scribbled furiously on her notebook, angling it so I could read it.
Lunch—fifth period?

I looked at her, eyebrows raised. We never had lunch together. Well, we did—technically. Same lunch period. But we'd never sat together. Maybe Colleen and Beth had other plans? I nodded.

Just friends, I reminded myself when my heart threatened to break a rib. I forced myself to concentrate on Mr. Williams's lesson. The teams were poring over flashcards. I glanced at the one sitting on top of Lisa's notebook. It held a list of taglines from commercials.

1. Because you've got a lot riding on your tires.

2. A diamond is forever.

3. Don't leave home without it.

I recognized all three of the slogans. “What are we supposed to be doing with these?” I asked Julie.

“Identify the emotion each one makes us feel.”

“What does that have to do with speeches?”

“No idea.”

I grabbed a sheet of loose leaf and a pen and jotted down my ideas: “worry,” “pride,” and “trust.” I slid my sheet to Lisa, who was busy writing her answers.

“Okay, folks, there isn't enough time to review your responses before the bell rings. Here's what I want you to do. Consider how popular commercials appeal to our emotions to sell products and apply those techniques to winning your arguments. I want each of you to take one of the slogans and write an essay about the emotion it makes you feel and why it would or wouldn't convince you to buy that product. Due by end of the week.”

The bell hid our collective groan.

“See you at lunch.” Julie offered me a brief, tight smile and left.

Do
the
American
Express
slogan,
Kenny suggested with an evil grin.

“Why?” But he'd closed the door to his room, shutting me out.

Peace, Love, and Hair Gel

I heaped a couple of burgers, a baked potato, an apple, and a bottle of water on my tray, lugged it to my usual spot, and wondered if the butterflies constructing a house in my gut would allow me to actually eat. I saw Colleen and Beth sitting at their favorite table, and my anxiety deflated. Julie would probably end up sitting with them anyway. No sense getting all worked up over nothing. I grabbed the first burger, bit in, and nearly choked when a tray slammed onto the table next to me.

“You're an ass, you know that?”

I considered that and shrugged. I'd been called worse.

Oh, tell me you're not gonna take this crap?

I would take his crap. For now. “Well, gosh, Brandon, I had no idea. Please enlighten me.”

“Morris gave Jeff in-school suspension.”

Again? It worked so well the last time.

“A whole week!” Brandon flung himself to the seat beside me, shoved the tray away with a sneer. “And he's benching him. No football.”

I blinked, waiting for the part where this was bad enough to warrant calling me an ass. Kenny sat across from me, glaring.

Brandon huffed out a frustrated breath. “Come on, man, think about it. If he can't play football, he's going to be pissed, and I mean like volcanic eruption
pissed
. And then he's gonna erupt all over
me
for ratting him out. So, thanks a lot, man. Appreciate your help.” He stood up, but I slapped a hand to his shoulder, pushed him back down.

“Hold it.”

“You shouldn't have butted in. I had it. I had it, and you screwed it all up. I didn't need help. I
wanted
him to come after me.”

I peered closely at him. His eyes looked okay to me. There were no marks on him that I could see. So he wasn't using. Then why the hell was he making no sense? “Okay, first, whether you know it or not, you were about to do the dumbest thing of your life. I don't like being called an ass because I stopped you from that. Second, ISS was the right call, if you ask me. And third,
I'm
the one who snitched, not you, so Dean's more likely to come after me, and fourth, he knows I'll be watching out for you if he does try to take you down. Even though you called me an ass.” I released my grip on his shoulder. “Now you can leave.”

He continued to sit, but he wouldn't look at me. After a minute, he moved his tray close and bit into a turkey sandwich. Swallowed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Damn
straight.

“No problem.” I was about to say more when I smelled her.

Julie.
Kenny sighed happily and grinned at a point over my shoulder.

“Um. Hi?”

I twisted my head around. She stood behind me, tray in hand, her shoulders clenched and her eyebrows raised over the rims of her glasses. That enormous sack she called a purse dangled off the arm holding her tray, yet somehow, she managed to keep it level.

Brandon leaped up. “I'm outta here.”

“No. Stay. Julie and I have a project we're working on, but you can eat with us.” I wanted Brandon to stay where I could see him.

Brandon's eyes darted from me to Julie and back to me. He nodded and slid over so Julie could sit beside me. She put her bag on the floor and grabbed one of her club sandwich wedges. She followed my gaze and managed half a smile. “I was able to get the club sandwich, and I'm not even a member.”

Beside her, Brandon moaned.

“That was really lame,” I said.

Julie smiled tightly and shrugged, twisting the cap off a Snapple, fumbling it. “Yeah, I know.”

I couldn't stop my grin. “Why are you so nervous?”

My perceptiveness surprised her, and her mouth dropped. “I
am
nervous. I guess you heard about Jeff's suspension?”

“Yeah, Brandon just told me. Good.”

She angled her head, thought it over. “Yeah. Guess so.” She frowned, glanced around, and leaned closer. “You, uh, need to be careful. I heard him threaten you. He said he's going to get even with you for reporting him to Mr. Morris.”

Beside her, Brandon gasped, but I shook my head. “I'm not worried, Julie.”

Her eyes widened. “You should be. Jeff's got…a lot of problems.”

Brandon went rigid beside her.

“Yeah. About that. Why don't you two clue me in.” I waved a hand between them.

“It's your fault,” Julie shot at Brandon, and he flinched.

“I was trying to help.”

“Help? His mother
died
.”

“I know!” Brandon said too loudly, and heads turned. “I know that, okay? But I did it to help.”

“Did what?”

Julie stared at Brandon. Actually, Julie
dared
Brandon with a lift of her eyebrows.

He shoved his tray away. “Fine. I ratted him out to his parents.”

Kenny whistled.
No
wonder
Jeff
is
pissed
off.

Julie glared. “It totally messed Jeff up.”

“If he's so messed up, why do you hang out with him?” Brandon demanded while he stared at his ice tea bottle.

Julie shrugged. “I don't have much of a choice. He's going out with Colleen.”

Brandon rolled his eyes. “Right, and you go everywhere Colleen goes.”

“Hey, I don't—”

“Stop.” I held up a hand before Julie got herself any further riled. “I'm still confused. You said you were trying to help?”

Brandon pressed his lips into a tight line. Julie cocked her head to the side, another dare. There were a few eavesdroppers hanging on to our conversation. I shot a look at one girl with spiky hair until she turned back to her own lunch.

“He…look, it's a long story, and you'll probably just take his side anyway, like everybody else, so let's just skip it, okay?” He grabbed his water bottle and got up. “Thanks for—” he started, shifted, looked down at the table. “Just…thanks.”

“No problem,” I said again, staring after him as he shuffled away, shoulders hunched and head down.

“Hey, you okay?” Julie nudged me with her shoulder after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh yeah. Fine. Just thinking.”

“About Jeff? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“No, about Brandon. That kid worries me.” I'd finished the first burger and was now chewing on the second, thinking. “He lives next to you. Does he have any family problems you know of?”

Julie shook her head. “No, not at all. They seem to get along pretty great.” She picked the crust off her sandwich, popped it into her mouth. “You're actually the first person I've seen talk to him. Everybody did pretty much take Jeff's side. Except you. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should help him.”

My face was suddenly burning, and I lowered my eyes, bit back the lame
Aw, shucks
that danced on my tongue. “Julie, I feel bad for him. I know what it's like, and I don't want to see anybody get hurt.” I chugged half of my water.

“
You
know what it's like?”

The disbelief in her tone pissed me off. I capped the bottle, deliberately put it down before I responded, “Yeah, I do. You really think I built all this muscle just for the hell of it?” I watched her eyes flicker down my body and her lips part. There was a dark part of me—hell, it was probably Kenny—that was perversely excited by her obvious interest. But I didn't sweat all those hours running and lifting weights just for a girl's reaction. It was my only means of defense. I'd been no bigger than Brandon when I was locked up. And they'd come for me that first night. I was thirteen years old and luckily just hitting a growth spurt.

Let's just say I made the most of it.

She frowned again. “Jeff'll hurt you.”

I laughed. “I'm not worried. Why are you? You don't even like me.”

“Are we back to that again?” She sighed dramatically.

I didn't want to get into it all over again, so I changed the subject. “I don't hurt so easily anymore.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a minute. “You forgot the first day of school already? You were pretty easily hurt then. And that was one punch. The thing about Jeff? He doesn't fight fair.”

“Neither do I.” I leaned closer. “I took that punch because I knew Mr. Morris would see it.” I winked.

You
are
such
a
liar.

She doesn't know that.

You
sure
about
that, bro? Look at her face.

She knew.

“You glared at me. You totally hated me.”

Okay. I guess we
were
getting into it again. I nodded. “I did. I was pissed off when I found out you saw the whole thing. You could have helped Brandon but didn't. You forced me to take a big risk I shouldn't—” I mashed my lips together. I'd said too much. Damn it.
You
see?
I poked Kenny.
This
is
why
it's too dangerous to be friends. It's easy to slip up.

She drew in a deep breath. “What? The risk to your popularity? Or your pretty face? Oh, wait. I know. The risk to getting on the football team.”

Popularity? Football? Please. I tried to laugh, but I was far too disgusted. “I don't give a rat's ass about football, Julie.” How much could I say so she got it? What could I tell her without taking an even bigger risk? “There's a reason a guy starts a new school in a new town in his senior year. You could have stopped that fight, but you didn't. So I had to, and the whole time, I'm rehearsing the stuff I was gonna have to tell my parents when we were packing up to move. Again.” I grabbed the water bottle in one hand and my tray in the other and stood.

“Dan, wait. I know about you, and it's cool really—”

What?
Oh God, no.

The food congealed in my gut, and the world slipped away. My hand convulsed around the water bottle, and the plastic cracked under the strain. Run. Right now. Run.

“Dan? Daniel, stop it. Look at me.” She pulled the water bottle away from me, forced me to look at her. “Everyone's been talking about your scars. We know you got into a bunch of fights and had to leave your last school because somebody got…got really hurt. And now whenever you see fighting, you have to stop it, but you're afraid you'll have to leave again. I get that. But you can't mess with Jeff. He'll do worse than your scars.”

Relief washed over me, relief so great it was like plunging into the ocean on a hundred-degree day. Is
that
what everybody was saying? The whole school thought I was Tyler Durden. I could work with that. As long as they didn't know the real story, I still had a shot at getting through the next few months.

————

At the day's last bell, I hurried to my car, anxious to get away from everyone. I was pissed at Brandon for being stupid, pissed at Julie for forcing me to risk even more than I already had, pissed at Kenny for pushing me to make friends, pissed at myself for letting my guard down, and pissed at God for watching me splash in the deep end of the pool and not tossing me a ring.

Thinking about Brandon had me replaying the earlier scene when he baited Jeff. What the hell was he thinking? No sane person would seek out his bully's attention unless—

I froze mid-step.

Oh God,
no
. My brain started connecting the dots. Damn it, why hadn't I seen it? The way Brandon protected his backpack earlier? He packed a knife or gun inside it—I was sure of it. The problem with weapons was that you could be disarmed and the weapons used against you. That was exactly why I'd developed my own body into a thing of strength and power.

I got into the car, slammed the door, and threw my head against the headrest. How did I miss this? Brandon was plotting.

Kenny rubbed his hands in glee.
Epic! Next time, don't stop him. It will be better than
Fight Club
.

I clamped my hands to the steering wheel instead of Kenny's neck. “I am not going to let him get hurt, no matter how
epic
you think it might be. He's not thinking straight. He doesn't know he can't possibly win.” I choked when I realized what I'd just said.

Kenny's laughter ended. He stared at me from the seat beside me, eyes full of knowledge.
Maybe
winning
isn't his goal.

With hands that shook, I raked hair off my face and tried to form a plan from the dozens of thoughts buzzing around my panicked mind. I had to stop him, had to stop Brandon from killing himself to get away from Jeff's torment or, worse, killing Jeff. I knew what it was like to live with blood on my hands.

Kenny's eyes—my eyes, whatever—gleamed dangerously in the sun beaming through the car's windows.
And
how
are
you
gonna
do
that? You're much better at causing suicides than preventing them, don't you think?