Free Endangered by Lamar Giles

stops abruptly, and Brock Parham says, “Hey, sexy, you new here?”
    We’ve been classmates since the third grade. His memory isn’t bad, and he’s not half as clever as he thinks. This is what happens when a Hall Ghost suddenly returns to the land of the living. A turf war.
    With my books gathered, I try to slide by him and Taylor, but Brock grabs me by the elbow in a way that might’ve seemed gentle if I’d asked him to touch me. He’s taking liberties, as he’s known to do. Thus me busting his ass on Gray Scales two years ago.
    Crime: Brock plays football. So did Nelson Barclay, who, until an unfortunate locker room incident, was a rising gridiron star and a closetedgay kid. That incident was engineered by Brock, and involved intricate paper arrows made out of the pages from gay porn magazines. The big block arrows were constructed with care I’ve only seen from my mother’s arts-and-craftsy friends, and taped along the walls and lockers like directions through a maze. All pointing to Nelson’s locker, where a huge sex toy had been rubber-cemented to the door in a way that would’ve forced him to hold it in one hand while he worked the combination lock with the other. Nelson never gave his cruel teammates the pleasure of seeing him fondle a plastic penis while suiting up. Instead, he left the locker room, never to return.
    Punishment: I knew a secret—a couple actually—about Brock thanks to his brief relationship with Ocie back in the day (one of her lowlights if I’m being honest). As obnoxious and homophobic as he is, he’s got a passion that he shares with his father. Comic books. Nothing wrong there, I’ve read a few myself, and can respect the art. It’s more than a love for them, though. It’s a lifestyle, at least part of the year. They do conventions. As cosplayers—people who wear intricate costumes in homage to a favorite fictional character.
    We don’t have any cons locally, which Brock’s probably seen as a blessing. At the time of the Nelson Barclay incident, I had no way of tailing him to any out-of-state events. But this is one time where a little internet research did the job for me. There were plenty of photographers at GorgonCon, North Carolina. A whole lot of lists for best cosplayers. Guess who made the cut.
    Brock and his dad. Or as their con buddies probably referred to them, Batman and Robin.
    And, no, not cutie Robin from the late-nineties movies. I’m talking little green man-panties Robin. It took me all of fifteen minutes to find,crop, and post the photo on Gray Scales . Within a day, Nelson’s sexuality fell off everyone’s social radar as the school refocused on Portside’s own Caped Crusader.
    That was then. This . . . is something I’m not in the mood for.
    I want to bite his hand and rip his shoulder from the socket. I also want to go back to being a Hall Ghost tomorrow. I can’t let some hair frizz and the attention of an a-hole like Brock ruin my cover forever. I say, “Please take your hand off me.”
    He might’ve complied, and this might’ve ended quietly.
    But Taylor smacks Brock’s arm away. “Don’t touch her, dick.”
    A whiff of masculine aggression raises hackles on the backs of onlookers. Now we’re officially the morning entertainment.
    Brock raises his hands, palms out, feigning peace. “My bad, Durham. Just wanted to know who the new girl is.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œI’ve seen a girl who kind of looks like you. Nerdy chick with glasses, antisocial, major stick up her ass. That can’t be you, though. Unlike her, you’re cute, in a future-hot-teacher kind of way.”
    â€œOh, screw you, Brock.” I realize the opening I give him a half second too late.
    He says, “My bear costume is in the cleaners, but if you’re still willing . . .”
    A collective ooohhhh sounds along the hall, the