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Authors: Jack D. Ferraiolo

The Quick Fix (19 page)

BOOK: The Quick Fix
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“If you can't hear me,” the voice whispered, “I might as well hang up.”

“Fine,” I said. “We'll play it your way. What do you want?”

“I want you to look at something for me, but I don't want to show it to you.”

“O-kayyy … Is this a riddle? Because I hate riddles.”

“I know better. You didn't think I gave you a phone just to talk to you, did you?”

“I have no idea why you gave me a phone.”

“You do now.” There was a click as the whisperer hung up. I looked at the display. There was only one bar of battery life left. Whatever was on this phone, I had to find it in a hurry.

The first thing I checked was the contacts list. It was empty. I checked messages (voice and text), recent call records, mobile e-mail accounts. Nothing. Then I checked pictures. There was one. The battery life bar was blinking. I had very little time left. I selected the photo so that it filled the phone's screen, but the picture was still too small
to make out any details. All I could see was that there were two figures facing each other, as if they were talking or shaking hands.

I turned the phone off. There was no sense staring at the picture. It wasn't getting any clearer, and all I was doing was wasting what little battery life was left. I needed help, and at the moment, there was only one kid I trusted with something like this.

I had seven minutes before I had to get to homeroom. I had to hustle if I was going to catch him in his office. I closed my locker door, then turned to run. Standing in front of me was Jenny Finnegan.

“Pardon me,” I said.

She stood there and smirked at me.

“All right, let's try this, then,” I said. “Get the hell out of my way.”

“Vinny wants to talk to you.”

I laughed. “Is this your new job? Vinny's message girl? Refresh my memory, did Nikki ever have to do anything like this?”

Her face tightened. “I can't wait to see how smug you are when I put you in the Outs.”

“You? Put me in the Outs? Ha! I've seen you work
under pressure, sweetheart. All I need to do is say ‘Boo!' and I've got you on the run.”

Her hands ducked behind her and came back out with two squirt guns … little pink numbers. I had to admit, she was pretty fast.

“What do you have to say now, Matt? Huh? Something smart, I'm sure.”

I laughed. “Who are you trying to fool? I hope it isn't me. If Vinny wanted me in the Outs, he wouldn't send you.”

“I'll say it was an accident.”

“I hope one of his operatives heard that. I want Vinny to hear how stupid you think he is, that he'd fall for a lie that bad.”

“There aren't any operatives, sweetie. Just me and you.”

“Oh yeah? Tell that to Ricky Ryan over there,” I said, pointing behind me. “He's in Vinny's crew, right? Because he's been watching us like we're a Vegas floor show and his girlfriend's in the chorus.”

Jenny was rattled. She tried to hide it, but she wasn't good at improvisation.

“Or Susan Myers,” I continued. “She must be really
thirsty. She's been drinking from that water fountain for the past five minutes.”

Jenny looked over at Susan, slowly, as if she didn't want to but had run out of the willpower to stop herself. Susan looked back at her and winked. A brief window opened, so I jumped through it. I grabbed both squirt guns and ripped them out of her hands. I threw them behind me. They clattered down the hall. One of them cracked. Water started puddling around it.

“You want to be tough?” I asked. “You should probably be a little more focused.”

Jenny looked like she was about to jump on me and rip my throat out with her teeth. Something behind me caught her eye. I turned to see Ricky Ryan leveling his gaze at her. His head was moving gently from side to side. Jenny backed down, but only physically. Her expression was still full of the painful possibilities she was conjuring up for me.

“If that's all,” I said, “I have someplace to be.”

She didn't say anything. Just stared at me. Ricky Ryan was still doing his headshake, but this time it seemed to be indicating a direction. He was telling Jenny to follow him.

She pushed past me, then turned and walked backward
down the hallway. She picked up the squirt gun that lay unbroken on the ground, all the while not taking her eyes off me. When she was close, Ricky took her by the arm and guided her away.

Susan Myers approached me. “Vinny wants to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I heard. I've got someplace to be right now.”

She pulled a squirt gun on me, but her heart wasn't in it.

“Yeah, that's not going to work,” I said. “You need me for something or you would've let little Miss Jenny pop me just now. She blew the bluff and trashed your leverage.”

Susan sighed and put her squirt gun away. Then she whistled, and the two hulking eighth graders who grabbed me on Monday appeared out of nowhere. “She didn't trash all of my leverage.”

“Touché,” I said. “If it's all the same to you, I'd rather walk than be carried.”

“Follow me,” she said, and flashed me what appeared to be a genuine smile. She glanced at Jenny, who was a few paces ahead of us, then looked back at me and rolled her eyes. “Amateur,” she said.

I grinned. Jenny might never get all the comeuppance
she deserved—at least not in any obvious way—but it looked like she hadn't gained anyone's respect. She wasn't about to make people forget about her sister.

We walked over to a janitor's closet. Jenny was standing like a sentinel outside, trying not to make eye contact with me. It was obvious that Ricky had had a little talk with her. Susan motioned for me to go in. I nodded to her. “You better keep an eye on that one,” I said, pointing to Jenny. “She's ‘dangerous.'”

Susan and Ricky both snickered. I was pretty sure I could hear Jenny's teeth grinding.

I walked into the closet. Vinny was sitting in a chair, surrounded by the same enormous goons as before.

“You're doing a great job with Jenny,” I said. “It only took two more of your ‘employees' to help her do a simple job correctly.”

One of Vinny's guards stepped forward and sucker punched me in the gut. I felt like I was going to throw up my last four meals. I staggered backward, until my back hit the door.

“That's for being a hypocrite,” Vinny said. “
You
had the simple job of dropping off a duffel bag in a locker, and you managed to screw that up.”

“Yeah, like it wasn't the blackmailer who tipped off Katie and the Thompsons,” I said sarcastically. “You'd have to be stupid to think that first drop-off was anything other than a setup, and I know you're not stupid. So I have to think you were just looking for an excuse to have me punched in the stomach.”

“I don't need an excuse.”

“You do now. The next kid that tries gets his hand broken.”

“You still have a job to do.”

“The hell I do.”

“You botched up the first time, so now you get to do it again,” he said.

A tall, thin kid standing behind Vinny held an envelope out to me. I glared at Vinny. “Take the envelope, Matthew,” he said.

“I don't take orders from—”

“Take it!” he yelled. “Take it or I'll have them staple it to your chest.”

Five of the goons moved toward me in unison. I grabbed the envelope out of the skinny kid's hand. There was another ransom note inside. It was a photocopy. I skimmed it. Another drop. 6:55 tomorrow morning. Same place: locker 416. I put the note back in the envelope.

“Okay,” I said, “so now the only thing left between us, Vinny, is for you to tell me what was in the photo.”

Vinny flinched. I had surprised him. “None of your business,” he said, recovering quickly.

“Sure it is. You made it my business. Now tell me.”

He stood up. His hands tightened into fists. “
You
don't give
me
orders!”

“Tell me.”

He punched me in the face. It wasn't the hardest punch I'd ever gotten, but I'd never mistake it for a kiss on the cheek. His guards took a step closer to us, but they looked unsure about what to do.

“Wow,” I said, rubbing my jaw. “Those gym classes are really paying off for you. Feel better now?”

Vinny was breathing hard and massaging the knuckles on his hand. He looked confused, as if he was unsure of where he was and why his knuckles hurt.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“You know what happened to me,” he said. “You know why I do this.”

“You don't have to anymore. You've proved your point.”

His eyes were set and stony.

“But it's not really about that anymore, is it?” I asked.
“It's something different now. The bullied has become the bully.”

Vinny glared at me. “This is it, Matthew … your last case,” he said. “I bet you didn't think this day would come, but I assure you, it's here.”

“You're a fortune-teller now?”

“I'm not telling your future,” he said, “I'm making it.” Vinny looked at the skinny kid behind him. The kid grabbed a duffel bag and handed it to me.

“You screwed up,” Vinny said, “and I can't let a thing like that go unpunished. Plus, quite frankly, I'm sick of you … you and your smug, superior attitude.”

“Look who's talking,” I said.

“I think it's time you had a view of the Outs from the inside, Matthew. Maybe you'll learn that you should've been taking it seriously all along. So, do the job right this time and you'll only get splashed.”

“Your pep talks need a little work,” I said.

“Do it wrong or don't do it at all, and … well, you remember Triple D?”

I did. Triple D stood for Dirty Diaper Dexter, one of the first kids Vinny ever put in the Outs. The whole school had found Triple D slumped over one of the bike
racks, wearing nothing but a diaper, the front of which was soaked with yellow liquid; the back was smeared with … well, use your imagination. I heard through a reliable source that it was actually chocolate, but no one cared enough to set the record straight. He was so far in the Outs, he was the guy other kids in the Outs knocked around when
they
wanted someone to bully.

“Go ahead, Matthew,” Vinny snarled. “Say something smart.”

I opened the bag. It was the same as before: four boxes of candy and a large stack of cash. I smiled. “I don't have to, do I? The smell of flop sweat speaks for itself.”

I opened the door and walked out. No one followed me. Susan was still standing outside the door, but Ricky and Jenny were gone. “How'd it go?” she asked, as if I was coming from somewhere normal, like taking a quiz.

“Not bad. Could've been worse.”

“Still might be.”

“Sure … but I doubt it. Might want to get your résumé together,” I said. “I have a feeling you'll be looking for work soon.”

“I've already got a couple of things lined up,” she said, “but thanks for the advice.” I gave her a puzzled look, but
all she did was smile at me. “See you around, Stevens.” She turned away. As far as she was concerned, our conversation was over.

It was a long walk back to my locker to grab my first-period books. I was a little shaky. I had never seen Vinny that panicky before. The good news was that he was distracted, which might make him sloppy. The bad news was that he seemed determined to put me in the Outs, and sloppy or not, he had the means to get it done. I had one day to find some wiggle room. And I still had to talk to Jimmy Mac.

rest of my morning was filled with classes I couldn't get out of. As soon as the lunch bell rang, I went to the cafeteria to grab lunch before heading over to Jimmy's office. I was halfway through my hot dog when I spotted Nicole Finnegan, a.k.a. the former Nikki Fingers, sitting at a table by herself, mumbling into her sandwich. Someone was walking toward her. It was Katie Kondo. She may have been in the Outs, too, but you wouldn't know it by looking at her. She looked the same, dressed the same, had the same almost-a-scowl expression on her face. The
Outs was like an invisible symbol hanging over her head. Every kid in school knew it was there, but Katie would be damned if she would give in to it. She stood across from Nicole and asked her a question.

BOOK: The Quick Fix
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ads

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