Free Borderline by Allan Stratton Page B

You’re aware of it?”
    I flash on me getting expelled, Dad going bananas. “Yes,” I whisper.
    â€œSo perhaps you’d like to tell me what happened on Roosevelt Trail?”
    â€œN-nothing, sir.”
    â€œNothing?”
    â€œNo, sir. Nothing.”
    â€œYou weren’t in a fight with Harrison?”
    â€œNo, sir. Not really, sir. I don’t care what Mr. Bernstein told you.”
    â€œWho says he told me anything?” Mr. McGregor bunches his bushy eyebrows. “What would he have told me?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’m not sure.” I wriggle like a fish on a hook.
    McGregor reels me in, nice and slow. “Harrison reportsthat you were zigzagging your bike in the middle of the road. He asked you to move to the side, so he and his friends could drive by. You turned your head, insulted his family, and crashed into the curb. When he came to help you up, you blamed him for the accident and accused him of attacking you. Which is why he stepped forward, to clear his name in advance. Is Harrison’s account accurate?”
    â€œI…I forget.”
    â€œForgetting is a habit with you, isn’t it, Sabiri? A theme.”
    I stare at the carpet.
    â€œLook at me when I talk to you.”
    I glance back up.
    â€œWhen Harrison was called to my office Friday, he came right away,” Mr. McGregor says. “You, on the other hand, chose to run. Today you answer every question with ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I can’t remember.’ Your cowardice speaks to your character, Sabiri.”
    â€œYes, sir,” I mumble.
    Mr. McGregor sticks his head into the outer office and asks his secretary to send for Eddy. While we wait for Duh Turd, he paces the office, lecturing me on how I have to obey the rules, submit to authority, answer questions, and not waste his time.
    Eddy shows up as the lunch bell rings.
    McGregor makes us shake hands, then gives us a cold once-over. “No action will be taken regarding this morning’s incident. But I’ve made note of it for future reference. In the meantime, Sabiri, for running away, swearing, and evasiveness, you will serve one-hour detentions for the rest of this week, in the main office before class. Harrison, for the remark overheard by Mr. Bernstein, you get a one-hour detention to be served now.”
    Eddy and I leave the vice principal’s office. He flops on the bench to do his time.
    â€œI’ll get you for this,” he says under his breath.
    â€œFor what? I didn’t do anything.”
    â€œTell it to the undertaker.”
    Â 
    After lunch, I get to period three before Eddy’s detention ends. At the last period change, though, I see Eddy coming toward me. Thank God I’m short and skinny. I slip sideways through the mobs in the corridors, zipping from one tall person to the next. It’s like I’m in a video game: Academy Hell Race .
    I make it to History and catch a break. Mr. Bernstein’s changed the seating plan. He’s moved Eddy to the backcorner: Siberia. Me, he’s moved to the front by the door, where I’ll have a chance to escape at the end of class. Luckily, he’s shifted other guys too, so it’s not obvious he made the change for me.
    End of the day, another break. Eddy’s got football practice. I wait till Mitchell tells me he’s doing warm-ups, then walk my bike home as fast as I can. As I pass the field, I hear Eddy’s crew chant: “Sa- bi -ri. Sa- bi -ri. Sa- bi -ri.”
    At least I’ll be safe at home, I think.
    But I’m not.

Fourteen
    D ad’s already arrived home when I wheel in. His morning tour of Toronto’s new high-security bio lab got canceled, and he managed to catch an early flight. There’s wrapped gifts in the living room. Guilt much?
    â€œGreat conference, great city,” Dad says. “I’ll take you soon.” Sure. And introduce me to your secret girlfriend while