Free Circle of Silence by Carol M. Tanzman Page B

Henry says.
    Jagger takes it in without blinking before turning to me. He
sounds concerned. “What are you going to do now?”
    “Are you kidding?” Marci looks like she wants to gag. “Throw it
away. Right this second. I can’t imagine the diseases the poor thing has.
Had.”
    “I don’t think we should toss it. We need to keep it for
proof,” Raul says.
    “Of what?” Jagger asks.
    Henry says, “Foul play.”
    Jagger can’t help laughing. “ F-O-W-L play? Now, that’s good, Henry.”
    Henry actually smiles. “ F-O-U-L. As
in, this is a seriously bad sign that MP wants Val to stop reporting.”
    “You’re right.” I dig into my backpack and pull out a copy of
the email. “Got this a few days ago.”
    The group gathers to read. Marci blinks. “And you didn’t tell
us?”
    “I didn’t think they’d actually do something to me. Tell the truth. Does anyone here think we should back
off the story because MP says so?”
    “Give us a little credit,” Raul mutters.
    “Wait a sec. We should stop
reporting it.” Marci points to the locker, at the same time Phil throws me a
satisfied look. “Whoever did this is crazy. You’re just feeding his,
their…whatever by giving MP all this publicity. Not only that, but this is
clearly a ‘Locker Violation.’ Wilkins will be pissed. You should tell him.”
    “You can’t be serious,” I protest. “He might squash the story.
It’s my locker, Marci. I get to decide whether or not to keep quiet.”
    “Like that will ever happen,” she mutters.
    Phil holds up a hand. “It doesn’t matter to me what you guys do
about Campus News . Right now you have to decide
about the bird. You can’t leave it here or maggots will—”
    “Phil!” Marci shrieks. “That’s disgusting.”
    “But true,” Raul says. “How about we find a plastic bag, wrap
it tight.”
    “And keep it where? Not in the Media Center or this is the last
you see of me.” Marci pouts.
    “Freezer,” Henry suggests.
    “Gross,” Marci mumbles.
    “I have twin brothers. If they see it next to the ice cream or
whatever, they’d dissect it in two minutes flat.”
    That pulls Marci out of her funk. “You should see Val’s fridge.
There’s no room to freeze a candy bar, let alone a bird.”
    “What the hell?” Raul says. “If we find a bag, I’ll keep it.
Tell my mom it’s a science project. She’s seen worse.”
    Everyone except for Jagger goes off in search of a plastic
bag.
    “Looking a little pale there, ValGal.” Although he sounds
lighthearted, his concern feels genuine. “You sure you’re all right?”
    Before I can say “I’m fine,” his arms circle me. Omigod! I’ve
forgotten what it’s like to be this close to him. The body wash, or aftershave
or whatever he uses that smells so good. The way my head reaches the soft part
just below his shoulder. The shift as he leans into me, creating tiny bolts of
lightning at every spot his body touches. Even though I know I should, I can’t
push away.
    “I’m really sorry,” he whispers.
    Before I can ask if he means the dead bird or the way he
treated me last year, we hear the excited chatter of the team just before they
round the corner. Instinctively, I jump aside. Jagger winks before turning
toward the team.
    Our little secret.

9
    In bed that night, I feel the events of the day
swirling around my brain. The dead bird, Jagger’s hug. Marci pushing us to back
off the story, Jagger’s hug. Was it a friendly “you found a creepy thing in your
locker” hug—or something more? I consider calling him to ask, but that thought
lasts about ten seconds. I’d feel really stupid if he doesn’t know what I’m
talking about. As in, I hug girls all the time, so don’t think that was
something special.
    Then there’s the lock mystery. It wasn’t broken, so someone got
the combination from somewhere. It would be easy for Tracy Gardner—locker to my
left—or Lawrence Gold on the right—to sneak a look. But Tracy’s headed