Upstander by James Preller (free ereaders .TXT) 📕

words, but did not, Mary hoped, necessarily agree with the message.

“Droop, apologize to Hallenback.”

Droopy stared at Griff for a long moment. “Sorry, Hallenback,” he relented.

“Are you hurt?” Griff asked.

David cautiously probed the bump on the back of his head. Checked his fingers for blood.

“All right, you can go home now, Hallenback. Practice is over. You got lucky today. Mary here has a soft heart. She’s your guardian angel. But you keep running, Hallenback. Don’t you stop,” Griff said. “We’ll be following you. Go on, get going.”

David glanced sideways at Griff. His face remained tilted down and away, the way a beta dog might stand before an alpha. He never glanced toward Mary or the others. Only Griff. “I will,” he said, scarcely above a whisper, talking to a spot on the ground. “You’ll see. I’ll get better.” And off he went in his uneven, Hallenback-styled shamble. Bizarrely determined to do his best, as if that were the lesson of the day. To try harder. Not that these guys were cruel and to be avoided at all costs. Not that he had a right to be treated with decency and respect. But that he needed to get better—then his problems might go away. David cut around the school and behind the back. The gang of four—Griff, Cody, Droopy, and Mary—watched him go.

“What a chimp,” Droopy said.

“You’re an idiot,” Mary replied.

“Speaking of french fries,” Cody said. “I’m hungry.”

21[court]

Now it was out in the open, the fact laid bare: Mary had witnessed firsthand the cruelty of Griffin Connelly. There was no going back. No thought of friendship or more advanced relationships. All that was over. But Mary couldn’t leave the group this minute, not with Hallenback still out there. If she wasn’t around, things could get uglier.

“Let’s follow him,” Griff said.

“Hold on,” Mary countered, stalling for time. She tried to keep the distress out of her voice, didn’t want to sound weak. “Leave him alone. He’s not worth it, Griff. We can go swimming or get a slice in town.”

Griff looked at her with scorn. “Oh, are you still here, Mary? I thought you had to go home?”

Droopy snickered. He took pleasure in their hostilities.

Mary glared back. “I’m still here.”

Griff eyed her for a long pause, then said, “Because if you want to go, then go. Feel free. Nobody’s stopping you.”

“I know that,” she said, staring right back.

Mary gripped the handlebars of the bicycle. Her knuckles went white. She hated being in this position. The way Griff took charge of everyone but somehow made it all seem like it was their choice. The way he cheered on Cody to perform that dangerous stunt—just because Griff thought it would be amusing to watch.

The group pedaled aimlessly on the grass field behind the school. Cody and Droopy chatted and laughed, loose and relaxed; neither Mary nor Griffin spoke a word. There was no sign of Hallenback, but they spotted a boy shooting baskets by himself on the playground court in the distance. Red shorts and a sleeveless tee. Dribble, dribble, dribble—like the sound of a steady heartbeat—then spin, shoot, nothing but net. He was smooth. It made Mary think of Chantel, and a pinprick of regret punctured her heart. Griffin set sail in that direction.

If the boy saw the riders coming, and he must have, he did a good job of not showing it. He set up at the foul line, eyes fixed on the rim, as if nothing else in the world existed but that orange basket. Griff pulled up halfway between the basket and the foul line, directly in the boy’s vision. Griff sat balanced on one leg. He crossed his arms, cool as a breeze. Mary fell in with Cody and Droopy, who kept pedaling their bikes, slowly circling like a pack of wolves around vulnerable prey.

“You didn’t see anybody come by here, did you?” Griff asked.

“Looks like a french fry,” Cody chirped.

The boy had a sweet face, blond hair and long, lanky arms. He looked at Griffin and the others. “I’ve been shooting around,” he shrugged, lifting his chin to indicate the net.

Hmmm, interesting. Mary knew he was lying. And if she knew, it was certain that Griff knew, too. But how would Griff react? He was unpredictable to her now. What she thought she knew was no longer true. Mary wasn’t sure what he’d do next, like an unknown chemical the teacher provided for experiments in science lab. A volatile mixture. Griff slid off his bike and dropped it to the ground like he’d forgotten gravity existed. He clapped his hands, made a target. “Let’s see that ball.”

The blond boy snapped off a crisp bounce pass. Cody and Droopy dismounted, eager to join this new game. Mary remained seated on her bike, parked to the side, silently watching. The kid looked uncomfortable, but at the same time, he worked hard not to show it. “You new around here?” Griff asked. He took an awkward shot. The ball clanged away.

The kid’s name was Eric, they learned. And yes, he was new to the area. Same grade as them.

“When’s school start anyway?” Cody asked.

“Thursday the fifth,” Mary said. “Twelve days from now.”

“At least it’s a Thursday,” Cody said. “I can handle a two-day week. It should always be that way.”

Droopy thought that was a genius idea.

Griff peppered the boy with a series of questions, half teasing and half curious, testing him. Droopy and Cody bounced around, carrying on a dopey conversation. Just when Mary began to relax, Griff held the ball in his hands. “You don’t mind if I keep it for a while, do you?”

It was a clear challenge.

The boy stood motionless, seriously outnumbered. He glanced at Mary, his eyes full of calculation. He was doing the math, Mary decided. And he was gorgeous.

To his credit, Eric played it as cool as he could under the circumstances. He ignored whatever threat floated in the air and pretended everyone was a gang of old pals, hanging out, having a