Upstander by James Preller (free ereaders .TXT) 📕

“So you lied, huh? I knew it.”

“I didn’t want any drama,” Eric replied.

Mary studied him closely. Eric was soft-spoken, almost shy. Maybe it was left over from the awkwardness of their initial meeting out on the court. Or just first-day jitters. He seemed nice, though, with bright blue eyes, and confident in a quiet way.

Eric asked, “Did he do something wrong?”

Mary leaned closer and advised, “Just steer clear.”

Eric cast another furtive glance at Hallenback. “Considering the way he looks at me, that’s not going to be a problem. I don’t think he likes me.”

No, Mary thought, he definitely doesn’t. And it puzzled her. Why would Hallenback have an issue with the new kid? Eric didn’t do anything to him. Except, maybe … he was a witness to Hallenback’s humiliation. Covered in ketchup. Maybe seeing Eric brought back all that embarrassment.

Mary, too, felt a similar regret surrounding that day. Eric associated her with that afternoon on the basketball court. Mary and Griff’s crew. She wasn’t proud of that connection. They talked a little more. Eric told her he didn’t own a cell phone, which was different. That’s not how things normally worked in this town. Maybe he was one of those kids from a “progressive” home, where there’s no TV, everyone’s a vegan, and the father wears a beard like a wizard.

“I’ll see you around,” Mary said, not wanting to linger any longer. Already eyes from the back of the room were upon them. But before stepping away she felt compelled to say, “Just so you know, I wasn’t part of it that day on the basketball court.”

Eric raised his eyebrows. “Seemed like you were.”

“I don’t hang out with them anymore,” Mary said. It was important that he knew that. “I’m not like that.”

Eric nodded, not meeting her eyes. If he believed her, Mary couldn’t tell.

Lunch was the next hurdle of the day, marking a clear hierarchy of the social order. Everyone staking out groups and tables, people and places. Mary had successfully avoided Chantel for the remainder of the summer. They texted a bit, in short bursts, but Mary made excuses whenever getting together came up. Chantel had soccer and AAU basketball and strict parents, so the cooling of their friendship wasn’t that dramatic. At least, Mary didn’t think so, until they almost literally bumped into each other in the cafeteria. Mary turned and Chantel stopped short, almost spilling a lunch tray on Mary’s shirt. “Oh, hey!” Mary said in surprise.

“Hi,” Chantel answered. There was no warmth in her insincere smile.

They looked at each other awkwardly, close enough to touch and yet a million miles away. Chantel saw something over Mary’s shoulder, lifted her chin in greeting. “Save me a seat,” she called out.

Mary looked back and saw a few sporty girls gathering at a long table. Everyone busy staking a claim to their place in the pecking order. “Here we are, seventh grade,” Mary said. “We made it.”

“Um-hmmm,” Chantel replied. “I’m gonna—”

“Sure, sure,” Mary said, stepping aside to let Chantel pass.

And that was it. No one had to say a word of explanation. It was all understood. Mary hadn’t done anything wrong. Not a single thing. She wasn’t obligated to be friends with Chantel. People changed friend groups all the time. Why did it feel so uncomfortable? Mary took a seat next to Alexis, across from Tamara and Chrissie. Everyone was full of hugs and compliments. Mary’s boots were a huge hit, even though it was technically too soon in the season to wear them. Tamara made a little joke about it.

“Did I see you talking with her?” Chrissie wanted to know.

“With who?”

“You know,” Chrissie said. “Your friend.”

Mary looked back over her shoulder. Chantel was looking the other way, telling a story with expressive hand gestures. “She’s not,” Mary answered flatly, wondering if it might actually be true.

Off by himself, Eric sat with the soggy company of a meatball sub and a bag of chips. Rookie mistake. Never, ever order the meatball sub. Griff walked over, standing by Eric’s elbow like a shadow. They talked briefly. Griffin smiled, titled his head, turned to walk away. Eric stood and followed. He took a place at Griff’s table, along with Cody, Droopy, Hakeem, Marshall, Sinjay, Will, and Pat. Mary’s heart went cold. There was always someone willing to follow Griffin Connelly. Too bad Eric was one of those guys.

Mary was glad when the day ended and the final bell clanged, and she pedaled home by herself on the bicycle that Griffin had given her.

Only 179 more school days to go.

It would be a five marshmallow afternoon.

26[wolves]

Saturday night and an empty house. Mary was alone and loving the freedom and solitude. She could do anything she wanted—there was no one looking over her shoulder—and it was laughable to see what kind of everyday, normal, boring activities she chose. Mary made a big bowl of popcorn in the microwave. Read for a while. She thought about lounging on the couch and watching a scary movie, but it was already dark outside and she wasn’t absolutely 100 percent sure she could handle the fear factor.

There were times when Mary wished she had a dog. Those times were morning, noon, and night, every single day of her life. But now, alone in her groaning, buzzing, creaking home—the house was never this loud when people were around—Mary strongly felt that lifetime desire. Dog as companion and protector. So she got a little spooked when at nine thirty there were voices at the front door, and sharp knocking.

“Little May, Little May, let us in!” Jonny roared. “Or with a huff … and a puff…” She heard laughter, giggling. He wasn’t alone. She peeked out the window and saw a thin girl in a black skirt with stringy auburn hair and another boy she’d didn’t recognize. He wore a big, loose afro and dark shades, which was ridiculous because, yeah, it was dark out. He puffed on a vape; Mary saw its glow intensify, then fade