Spark. Brigid Kemmerer
the unintelligible scream of rage when things were being strewn about the hallway. He remembered the bully’s comment about someone being a retard.
Layne sighed. “Thanks.” She bent to start sorting the papers.
The boy poked her arm again, more aggressively this time. He had to be a younger brother—Gabriel could read that dynamic like a book. But the boy signed again, and then pointed at Gabriel.
Layne rolled her eyes and didn’t look at him.
“What’s he saying?” said Gabriel.
“He said thanks,” said Layne.
The boy punched her in the shoulder and said something emphatically. It took Gabriel a moment to work out the words.
“Tell him, Layne.”
Layne sighed again and looked up. Her voice was flat. “He said that was fucking awesome.”
Gabriel grinned. “You can take them next time, buddy.”
He’d spoken without thinking, but before he could glance at Layne to translate, the boy grinned back and held out a fist. Gabriel bumped it with his own.
“This is my little brother,” said Layne. Her hands signed while she talked. “His name is Simon.”
Gabriel bent and began helping them catch the loose papers. “Freshman?”
“Yeah.” She paused, and then signed while she spoke. “It’s Simon’s first year at a real school.” She stopped signing and covered her mouth. “In case you couldn’t tell, it’s not going well.”
Simon punched her in the shoulder again.
Layne dropped her hand. “And he hates it when I don’t let him see what I’m saying.”
Simon was signing again, so fast that Gabriel had no idea how anyone would be able to make sense of it.
But Layne did. “He wants to know if you’re going out for basketball again this year. He just made the JV team. He made me take him to every basketball game last year, so he saw you play.”
Everyone made JV, but Gabriel didn’t say that. “Yeah,” he said, “varsity tryouts are Friday.” He probably didn’t have to show up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the library.” Layne gestured to the mess around them. “I was busy.”
“It’s cool,” he said, feeling a flash of guilt that he’d assumed she was standing him up. “Let me know if those dicks mess with you again.”
“Why?” she said, her voice flat again. “You gonna rumble under the bleachers?”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” She shoved the last of her papers into her backpack. She tapped her brother on the arm, and then signed while speaking, “Come on, Simon.”
Gabriel studied her, nonplussed. “You’re mad at me?”
“Maybe if you thought with something other than your fists, you’d be passing math on your own.”
Gabriel stared, having no idea what to say.
And in that moment of silence, she picked up her backpack and rounded the corner, without once looking back.
CHAPTER 6
Gabriel took a third processed chicken patty from the pan on the stove and another scoop of macaroni and cheese, then joined his brothers at the table. Nick had cooked, which usually worked out best all around. Not that mac and cheese was haute cuisine, but their older brother’s cooking skills topped out at pressing buttons on the microwave. After their parents died, Michael had been all they had left, so they’d spent the latter half of middle school living entirely on frozen dinners.
The table was quiet for a change. Michael was absently eating, his laptop open on the table in front of him. He made an effort to sit at the table with them, but he might as well have been sitting in the garage. Chris was glowering at his plate. Gabriel wondered what was up with that, but he couldn’t stop rolling Layne’s words around in his head.
Maybe if you thought with something other than your fists, you’d be passing math.
Nick jabbed him in the arm with his fork. “What’s up with you? Usually you don’t shut up about my crap cooking.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Chris snorted, finally looking up from his plate. “That’ll be the day.”
Gabriel kicked him under the table. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing’s up with me.”
“Becca’s with Hunter,” said Nick.
Chris rolled his eyes and stabbed a piece of chicken.
Gabriel smiled. “Want to come out with me and Nicky and blow stuff up on the beach?”
Michael’s hands went still and he looked up over the laptop. “You’d better be kidding.”
He wasn’t, but Michael didn’t need to know that. “Don’t worry. Go back to your ‘work.’ ” Gabriel made little air quotes with his hands.
“You’re supposed to be lying low,” said Michael. “Do you have any understanding of what that means?”
Gabriel ignored him.
“I’m talking to you,” said Michael.
Gabriel’s fork clinked against his plate and he leaned in against the table. “Don’t start this shit with me, Michael.”
Nick put a hand on his arm. “Stop. It’s fine.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything, just glared across the table at his older brother.
But Chris was staring across the table at Nick, his eyes telegraphing something Gabriel couldn’t figure out.
He drew back. “What? What’s with the look?”
Nick pulled his hand back. “Chris is going out with Becca later.”
“I’ll alert the media. So what?”
“So . . .” Nick pushed the macaroni around on his plate. “Quinn was giving her a hard time about leaving her sitting at home, and I made some comment that we should make it a double date, and she said yes.”
“You like her?”
“Maybe.” Nick shrugged and looked at his plate, pushing the macaroni noodles with his fork. “It’s something to do.”
The only time Nick hedged like this was when he really liked a girl. Gabriel smiled. “Don’t you mean someone?”
Now Nick snapped his eyes up. “It’s not like that.”
Oh, this was fantastic. “You know she had her tongue down Rafe Gutierrez’s throat, like, three days ago.”
“I said it’s not like that.” The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Michael was looking over the top of the laptop again. “Easy.”
Nick’s eyes were like ice. “Maybe we should talk about what happened in third period today. I didn’t even ask if you were okay.”
What a bastard. “Shut up.”
“What happened?” said Michael.
“Nothing,” said Chris. He glared at Nick across the table.
Good little brother. “Yeah,” said Gabriel. “Nothing.”
“It was all over school,” said Nick. “Lights exploded for no reason at all. They’re getting experts in to check all the wiring.”
Michael