Chapter 2: Sinner Number Two
So, the saga continues. Oh, retelling this makes my eyes flash. And flash. And flash.
Fifth period rolls around again. I am giddy with excitement to see if today will be as funny as yesterday. But no. Today, notes. The class sighs. I hate notes – because they mean homework. So, I sit through another mild period. Some of the stuff in the PowerPoint in which we take notes was funny, but not everything. I leave at the bell. My hand always hurts after History notes. So, I go to my next class and enjoy the rest of the school day.
Boring time over. Now for the good stuff. After class, Stephanie talks to Joe until everyone leaves. Then, the teacher holds the next class out in the hall – so they don’t witness the taking of a soul. As soon as my History teacher locks the door again, Stephanie brings Joe forth. Joe starts fighting to get away from Stephanie. But Stephanie is four inches taller. And she’s an athlete. This scrawny kid isn’t going anywhere.
The teacher grabs the book from his locked drawer in his desk and takes Bryce’s head.
“Welcome, Joe, to a new you!”
And the kid who stole the cotton yesterday smiles. His eyes flash.
“Go to class. We shall talk afterschool.” The teacher ushers. He lets them go into the hall and his next class in.
“You guys are crazy.” I reply. “C’mon, it’ll be funny.” Tibby says. My best friend Katie is standing at her side. Tibby grabs my arm and starts pulling me to my History teacher’s room. They manage to drag me all the way there and sneak an Expo marker from his whiteboard. They start drawing on a small whiteboard outside his room. I manage to sneak away and to my car before they can catch me leaving. Just before I exit the North hall of the school I hear a booming voice – my History teacher – yelling, “What are you doing?” to them.
But I wish I had stayed. I could’ve seen innocent Tibby become a sinner. I shall never forget her sin – shame. I laugh. Now that I think about it, she was truly a good pick. Good work.
I am dozing to sleep when my phone buzzes. I groan and answer it – it’s Katie.
“Gavin, something’s wrong.”
“Like what?”
“Tibby never came home from school. I’m worried.”
“Have you called her?”
“Yes, but she isn’t answering.”
“Oh great. Call her parents.”
“I did. They didn’t answer either.”
“The school?”
“Too late to try.”
“Then I don’t know. Maybe she’s just feeling down.”
“It’s not like her to ignore me.”
Her voice escalates.
“Good God. Um, I don’t know. Do you think we should call the authorities?”
“Maybe-’’
The line goes dead. My phone turns off. Almost like magic. I stare into my phone. But I am too tired to call back. I fall back into my pillow and doze off again.
