The Book of Bart Page 13

  “Seriously,” Josh said with pizza in his mouth, the disgusting brute.

  I took a sip from my glass and nodded.

  “I met him one day late in the school year. We’d both volunteered in an adopt-a-highway program through some after school group.”

  I stifled a yawn. This story sounded like loads of fun.

  “During the clean-up, Coach Mort struck up a conversation with me. He said he’d recognized me from the cheerleading squad. Sophomores normally don’t get to cheer varsity, but I did.” She held out her glass. “Can I get some more wine?”

  I grabbed the bottle and poured her another.

  She took a sip. “I was so naïve.”

  Apparently, they talked about gymnastics, school, and some other boring stuff. I tuned out once I got the gist that they’d really hit it off.

  “I found him so charming and funny. And mature. I remember really being bowled over by his maturity,” Sam said.

  He sounds like an absolute dreamboat. But I digress.

  She blew her nose. “We were together for… eight months. I couldn’t believe it. Nobody like him had ever taken an interest in me. Ever. He made me feel… special. Like I mattered.”

  I knew exactly how this story would end. Next time I saw Coach Mort I might have to give him a cookie.

  “Then he got into college down in Georgia.” Sam’s eyes watered again. “And that was it. He ended things the day he found out. He said the distance would be too much and he didn’t see the point in prolonging the inevitable.”

  I could feel the catch in the story coming. Taste it, almost.

  “Go on,” I said.

  “Well, it turned out he lied about going to school in Georgia. We lived in Charlotte, and he was going to school just down the road at Clemson,” she said. “With some skank named Viola. Who runs off with a girl named Viola?”

  Apparently Coach Mort.

  “It seemed that he and Viola were sleeping together the entire time he was with me. I gave him everything.”

  I perked up. “Everything?”

  She looked down at the floor. I took that to mean she had given him everything, including her virginity. Finally, this story was getting good.

  “I thought we were going to get married.”

  And there’s the catch. Sixteen and she thought she’d found her soul mate?

  Ah, young love.

  Cupid can be a sneaky little bastard sometimes.

  “I didn’t know how to handle everything. First, I stopped eating. Then my grades started to drop. I fell into a deep depression. When my parents went away one weekend, they left their medicine cabinet full of pills. You can figure out the rest.”

  “I had no idea,” Josh said, laying a hand on her back.

  “Now you know the truth,” she said.

  I sat down in the chair diagonal to them. I’d heard this kind of story so many times before. Seeing that my favorite hobby had always been deflowering virgins, a lot of those times I played the role of Coach Mort in the story.

  “Suicides almost always go straight to Hell. Yet here you are. They offered you a way out, didn’t they?” I asked. “That’s why you’re in training.”

  Sam glanced over at me and nodded. “Because of my age and the circumstances, they offered me a certain kind of clemency. They said I could earn my redemption by serving Heaven and one day become an archangel, or go straight to Hell and burn.”

  I tried not to snort.

  Burn.

  Saint Peter and his hooligans are some of the sneakiest salesmen around. They make car dealers look like amateurs. Sam probably would’ve had fun in Hell, at least after the brass tired of torturing her. At some point, they’d have given her the option of becoming a demon so she could somehow get revenge on Coach Mort and advance through the ranks of Hell, like Monica.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said with a knowing look. “That I made the wrong choice.”

  I held up my hands. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “You didn’t have to. I can see it on your face.”

  I paced around the room, trying to improve my poker face. “Do you think he recognized you?”

  Sam went pale. “What?”

  Josh glared at me. “Have some compassion, you hellion. You’re talking to an angel.”

  I frowned. I really didn’t think our relationship would be able to get past this whole me-offing-his-dad thing, which was just petty on his part.

  “Josh, if Coach Mort recognizes Sam, the gig is up. We’re blown. Do you understand what that means?”

  I paused for a moment to see if he would answer. He didn’t.

  “Of course you do. You’re a smart guy,” I said with a slight hint of condescension.

  Josh looked like he bit the inside of his cheeks to control his temper, a smart move on his part. Maybe the kid had some intelligence after all.

  I sat on the arm of the couch next to Sam. “I understand if you want to pull out.”

  “No,” Sam said, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I let him get to me once. He won’t do it again.”

  Steely resolve. I didn’t think Sam had it in her. “Good girl. But you’ve got to minimize contact with him. Don’t look him in the eye, give short answers, that kind of thing.”

  Sam impressed Coach Mort and the cheerleading squad so much in her tryout that they asked her to go on and cheer at the football game tomorrow night. Josh and I were going to the game to mingle, see if we could find out anything about Vixen. Sam would do her best to stomach being a cheerleader and see what she could learn through that group.

  I offered to drive Sam and Josh to the game in my Benz. Josh said he had things to do afterwards, so he’d go separately. I wouldn’t have even bothered showing my car around school, but I figured the kids would assume it belonged to a grownup and leave my baby alone. Then, when the kids realized the car belonged to me, they would be so awestruck by my majestic stallion of a luxury sedan they would strike up a conversation that would either lead to a clue about Vixen or a virgin being deflowered. One guess as to which one I preferred.

  We got out of the car. Sam wore her cheerleader outfit, which showed off enough of her legs and cleavage to make her look awfully provocative. She stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

  “Nervous?” I asked, waving my hand in front of her face. It broke her train of thought.

  “What? Oh. Yeah. I mean, a little.”

  I popped the trunk and buttoned up my overcoat―finally covering up the stupid charm―then called her over.

  “Here. I want you to have a shot of this.” I pulled back a towel to reveal a bottle of vodka.

  She stood back, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “One shot isn’t going to get you drunk. It’s just going to calm your nerves, make it easier to be around those people.” I spun the bottle in my hand. “The best part is, this is unflavored vodka. People won’t be able to smell it on your breath, so one shot will literally do nothing but settle you down. Just trust me on this one.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “You don’t think it will help you relax?” I unscrewed the cap and had a shot myself. This wouldn’t be easy to say, but if I didn’t, Sam probably wouldn’t take the vodka. “You know that thing when you do something for somebody else that isn’t out of spite or malice or a personal desire to see them fall flat on their face or have their spirit broken by epic failure?”

  She squinted, like she tried to figure out what I meant. “Do you mean a good deed?”

  I had a few more swallows of vodka and pointed to her, nodding. “That thing.”

  Sam gasped. “Wait. Are you trying to do something nice for me? Is that what this is?”

  “You don’t need to get all worked up over it. Either you take the shot or you don’t.” I tipped the bottle up and downed about two more shots.

  Sam took the bottle from my hand and drank. Her face tightened as she forced some vodka down her throat.
“It burns.”

  “That means it’s working.” She gave me the bottle and I took another swig “You’ve got this.”

  I walked Sam to the locker room. Coach Mort paced back and forth outside, probably waiting for the cheerleaders to arrive. Sam’s gaze darted to the floor. I decided to run some interference. The less time he had to possibly remember her, the better.

  I said hello to the paunchy, balding man slouched in his windbreaker and shook his hand. Nothing about his touch said demon. Coach Mort was human. Being face-to-face with him after learning what he’d done to Sam left me feeling disappointed and let down. I expected more out of our meeting. I wanted to be proud of him, to slap his butt and tell him he’d done a good job. But there’d been no duty in his actions, no desire to see the world crumble one soul at a time. He was just a selfish piece of dung. I respected what he’d been able to pull off, but I still didn’t like him.

  “Hey, it’s the badminton pro,” Coach Mort said.

  I bowed. “I understand you’re pretty impressed with my friend here.”

  “She’s got some moves.”

  If anyone knew about that, it would be Coach Mort. “Yes she does. Hey, be good to her, okay? She’s a little nervous.”

  Coach Mort gave me a faux salute. “Yes, sir. I treat all my girls with the utmost care.”

  I walked outside and down behind the bleachers, where most of the students hung out during the game. Jenny had her hair up in a ponytail with a bow in green and white―the school’s colors. How precious. I smiled and waved.

  She returned my smile weakly, then resumed whatever conversation she’d been engaged in. It took me a moment to notice, but the kids seemed very aware of my presence. I got a handful of repulsed looks. A few guys made sure to shove their shoulder into me as they walked by. Worse, not one girl gave me an interested look. Not one.

  I saw what was going on here.

  I smirked at the crowd. With one rumor, I’d been excommunicated from the entire student population. Usually I would’ve been the one spreading lies and ruining other people’s popularity, but not at this silly bizarro school.

  To Heaven with them. I popped a cig in my mouth and lit up. Some kid from my English class tried to look menacing as he got in my face. Too bad the Angry Birds shirt he wore under his jacket kind of undercut his intimidation factor.

  “You should go,” he said. “Nobody wants you here.”

  I blew smoke in his face, hoping he would retaliate so I could show everyone who they were messing with, but he didn’t make a move, the coward.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I said, pushing him aside. I needed to find Josh. I scanned the crowd and finally spotted him hanging around a group of kids by the concession stand.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I’m no good here. That rumor has everyone spooked. Let’s meet up after the game so we can go over anything you learned.”

  Josh shook his head. “We’ll have to do it tomorrow. I’m taking Sam out.”

  I swallowed my surprise. He probably would have loved to see me look shocked, but no way would I give him that satisfaction. “Really?”

  “She was pretty shaken up yesterday, so I told her I’d take her out for ice cream after the game tonight. Give her a chance to get away from everything and have some fun.”

  That girl and her ice cream. Ridiculous. “Where are you two going?”

  “A place that serves ice cream.”

  “No shit.” Like I cared anyway.

  Josh and Sam were going on a date? I didn’t like that one bit. I bet they just wanted to collude against me or, worse, they actually liked each other. The thought of those two blissfully happy together made the fire in my veins run cold. The idea in general disgusted me, but Josh didn’t deserve Sam. Period. I had to stop this… Or at least make sure the date didn’t go well.

  Kyle stood by himself, playing with his iPhone by one of the light poles. I put my hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

  “Don’t do that, man, you scared me,” he said. “Which is not a smart thing to do, considering the rumors going around.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, thanks for bringing that up. You busy later? I need to call in that favor you promised me.”

  “I’m in, so long as we’re not, you know, disposing of any bodies or anything.”

  I mock laughed at Kyle. For all I knew, it might come to that. “I’ll be in the parking lot. Come find me after the game.”

  Scanning the crowd of students, I noticed a lot of them buried their faces in popcorn and soda, leaving zero eyes on me. Good.

  I snuck around to the back of the small concessions building behind the bleachers. A large tin of jalapenos sat on the counter, open and halfway used. I peeked inside and saw that they needed to empty out the nasty juice. Since none of the concessions people were looking, I took it upon myself to do it and dumped part of the juice in the bin holding un-popped popcorn and the rest in the ice for the drinks.

  That would teach them to mess with me.

  cracked a window so I could listen to the radio while chain-smoking outside the Benz, waiting for the game to end. The longer I waited, the fewer cheers I heard. Clearly, tonight featured another sterling performance from the lowly Frady-McNeely Eagles.

  When the PA system announced the end of the game, the crowd started filing out of the stadium. I got a few more angry looks, but most people seemed too distracted by my awesome car to notice me.

  “No way, is that your ride?” Kyle asked, standing on the other side of the car.

  “Yeah, man,” I said. “Hop in.”

  I opened the door and slid in, followed by Kyle on the passenger side. He gawked at the interior, running his hand over the dashboard. “Unreal. Why don’t you drive it to school every day?”

  I laughed. “You know how many idiots would key this thing if I did that? Especially with that rumor about me going around?”

  I let Kyle play with the radio while I waited for Josh and Sam to appear. After a few minutes, they emerged from the gym. I turned on the engine.

  “So, what are we doing?” Kyle asked.

  “Following Sam and Josh. I want to make sure they stay out of trouble.”

  They got into Josh’s car and drove out of the parking lot. I made sure to keep a comfortable space between us.

  “Okay… Why do you care what they do?”

  I didn’t have a good answer off the top of my head. If I said I didn’t want them to have fun on their date, he might get the wrong idea about my intentions. “I don’t trust them together.”

  “All right.”

  I don’t know if he bought my excuse or not, but he didn’t say anything else about it, so I didn’t either.

  We followed them to Goodberry’s, a locally owned frozen custard place. I parked in an unlit spot across the street. A lot of high school kids hung out there, only instead of drinking beer they ate custard. The whole thing felt rather silly.

  Since Kyle was a high school kid, he also wanted to hang out there. “Can we get some? My stomach is raging and could use a little Goodberry’s.”

  “We’re on a stakeout, we’re not here to get some ice cream, or custard, or whatever they serve. If we go up there to order something, they’ll see us, which goes against the entire point of a stakeout.” Sheesh. “Tell me about that twisted sister I saw you making out with after school.”

  Kyle slunk down in his seat. “You saw that?”

  “Everyone in the commons area saw it. Who is she?”

  “Just a girl I mess around with sometimes. It’s not serious or anything.” Kyle laughed under his breath. “She’s trying to be part of my harem, I guess.”

  “Look at you.” I held out my fist and Kyle bumped it. “Good job. I didn’t take you for a player.”

  “Th… thanks,” he said with a bashful look on his face. “The ladies love my lanky frame.”

  Josh and Sam sat next to each other on a low brick wall, eating their custard.

&nbs
p; The Templar put his arm around Sam. I hoped he didn’t try to get too physical with her.

  “Josh is making his move,” Kyle said with a chuckle.

  Better not be.

  Kyle laughed. “What do you think they’re saying?”

  “Josh is probably consoling Sam about some guy she likes who doesn’t like her while at the same time trying to work up the courage to tell her the shocking truth about his chronic bedwetting, and that he tends to suck his thumb when he’s anxious.” I turned to Kyle. “It’s all a bit sad, really.”

  A hunched, hooded figure limped past us and across the street. The figure didn’t exactly come across as the type to frequent a custard shop on a Friday night. I sat up.

  Kyle noticed him too. “Who is that guy?”

  Before I could say anything, the figure ripped off the hoodie and screamed. It sounded demonic in nature, a growl I felt in my bones, complete with a screeching that made my eardrums ring. The man stretched his black arms out. The right arm ended in razor-sharp claws, like mine. The other was nothing more than a stump. This had to be the minion Josh attacked.

  Josh and Sam jumped up. It looked like the three of them exchanged some words. I couldn’t make out what Josh said to the beast, but it didn’t seem pleasant. He threw his custard at the minion, who slapped it away.

  Effective weapon, Josh. Really. Not just saying that.

  I started the car. “Get in the back seat.”

  “What?”

  I grabbed Kyle by the arm and threw him into the back. The tires screeched as I made a U-turn. I pressed my foot down on the gas, quickly closing the distance between us and the minion until I ran him over. I hoped the suspension would be okay after such a violent hit. I rolled down my window.

  “Look at this. What are the odds of seeing you two here?” I asked.

  “Bartholomew?” Sam asked. She seemed disoriented.

  “In the flesh.” I grinned. “Need a ride?”

  The pair wasted no time getting into the passenger side of the Benz, with Sam taking the front seat. I hit the gas pedal and we were off.

  “Good job with the minion,” I said to Josh.

  “Thanks.”

  I tried to smack him, but he was out of reach. I tried again, hoping I could somehow overcome that last inch or two separating his body from my hand. No luck.