Free Fade to Black by Alex Flinn Page B

it?”
    She stops. “I’m a friend of Alex’s.”
    “Sure you are.” When she keeps standing there, not answering, I ask, “Ever been to his house?”
    “No. We’re friends from school.”
    “How ’bout his car?” I say. “Ever eat lunch with him?” I know she hasn’t. I’ve seen Crusan sitting alone enough times. He’s got no friends at all, not even fake friends like mine. “Do you choose him for your lab partner in science class?”
    “Alex and I don’t have science together.”
    “How about the others? He’s in those smart classes. You must have something with him. You ever do a project with him? You ever sit by him, even?”
    She starts to turn again. “I don’t have to answer that. I’m not the one who—”
    “’Cause the answer’s no, right?” I’m standing now, walking toward her. “Right?”
    “Shut up, you … you get away from me.”
    “It’s no.” I’m practically singing it. “No. You’re no better than me. You like to think you are. But you’re as afraid of catching something as anyone.”
    “Shut up!”
    “Or maybe you don’t want your friends seeing you with him.”
    “Screw you.” I can see the anger in her eyes. It looks like it could come out and zap me, almost. I don’t care. I hate her.
    “Know what I can’t stand?” I say. “People who think they’re up there…” I point at the trees. “When really, you’re as down here as me and everyone else.”
    “I don’t have to talk to you.”
    She turns and walks away.
    “No, you don’t want to talk to me. And it’s ’cause you know I’m right.”
    She’s practically running now. People are staring, and I laugh. I laugh.
    But then it hits me. If Crusan died, would they be accusing me of murder?
    I stop laughing quick.
    Fifth period, the kid from the office hands me a note from Mom. Skip football practice, it says. We’re going to see a lawyer.

Tuesday, 11:40 a.m., courtyard, Pinedale High School
    DARIA
    All the girls ,
    around me
    sit on my bench .
    It smells like friends .
    All of them
    around me ,
    pretty clothes ,
    long hair .
    All of them ,
    around me .
    Some say names .
    Some don’t .
    All of them ,
    around me
    say things ,
    ask questions .
    All of them
    around me ,
    wait to see
    what
    I say .

Tuesday, 3:01 p.m., Memorial Hospital
    ALEX
    “I saw him at school today.”
    It’s Jennifer. It’s barely three, so she must have come the minute school got out. She has her uniform on, and this time the barrettes are white, instead of red. I wonder if she ever wears one white, one red. She holds out two books she brought me. The covers look a little girly, but I know I’ll read them anyway.
    “Saw who?” Though I know. Doctors have been in and out all day. They say I seem better, maybe well enough to go home tomorrow, that the cuts were just surface things, and it’s good I drove away when I did. I tell them I don’t feel well enough to talk to the police. I don’t, actually. I’ve spent all day thinking about what to do about Clinton. I still don’t know.
    “Clinton. I can’t believe he had the nerve to go to school. I saw him at lunch and told him what I thought of him.”
    “You shouldn’t have done that.”
    “Why not? After what he did, he should be in jail, not school.”
    I should tell her the truth about Clinton, but I don’t. They’ve been sticking me with needles all morning, and Mom was here, hovering and worrying I’d catch pneumonia or something just by being in this place. I don’t think Mom trusts the doctors here.
    Now she went to school to get my sister. She let Carolina go after her principal promised she’d keep an eye out. But Mom’s still scared to let her walk home by herself.
    “You just shouldn’t have,” I say.
    “I couldn’t help myself. I hate him. And you shouldn’t have to deal with that crap—I was thinking last night that I would hate to be you.”
    That makes me mad. She’s all proud of having told Clinton off, like I’m some weakling whose