Part Two

Monday. School. Morris parked his Jeep in the parking lot, but instead of getting out and heading over to where his friends would be, he simply sat. Finding that he was gritting his teeth, he leaned his head back on the headrest and made himself relax. He had to stay calm, especially today.

Finally he heard the first bell booming out of the loudspeakers. Jumping out of the Jeep, he grabbed his books off the passenger seat and briefly recalled Simon Camden sitting there, wasted, but sober enough to give him that puzzled look when he -- He closed his eyes and cleared his head; he wasn't going to think about that. Opening his eyes and assuming the old Morris swagger, he headed out of the parking lot toward the school building.

Mike and Tom were waiting for him just inside the door. They grabbed him and dragged him into a corner of the hall. Morris could tell by their faces that he was dead, but he smiled innocently at them anyway, hoping he could bluff his way through.

"Hey guys, what's up?" he asked.

"Do you know what that little prick Simon Camden did?" Mike snarled. "He told his parents about the party, and they called the cops!"

"Half the senior class got busted," Tom added furiously. "My parents had to pick me up at the police station." His eyes narrowed and he leaned in, pushing Morris back into the wall. "All because you insisted on bringing that asshole."

"Get out of my face," Morris said, shoving Tom away from him. "And it's not my fault. If you guys hadn't been feeding him the Everclear punch, everything would have been cool."

The warning bell rang. A teacher standing down the hall yelled at them, "Break it up, guys, and get to class!"

Mike and Tom stood over him menacingly for a minute, and then withdrew. "We told you not to bring the little faggot," Mike said. Morris's stomach contracted at the word, and he felt his face reddening. "Don't think anyone is going to forget about this," Mike warned as Morris slid around them and headed for class.

Morris kept his head down as he hurried down the hall. Hopefully they would think that his red face was because of their threats and not … He wasn't going to think about it. Right now they were just blaming him for inviting Simon to the party. Maybe it would all blow over – but only if they didn't find out that Morris was the one who told the Camdens. And that meant he had to find a way to keep Simon from telling anyone.

*****

When Morris walked into Economics, Simon was already there. Morris watched as a huge grin spread across Simon's face at the sight of him, and he nearly ran back out the door. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he marched grimly to his desk across from Simon's.

Morris was barely in his seat when Simon leaned over and said fervently, "Guess what!"

"What?" Morris mumbled, concentrating on digging through his backpack and not looking at Simon.

"I talked to my parents, and they agreed that it wasn't your fault!"

"So?" Morris asked coldly. He was suddenly very aware of the other kids in the class all around them. Pretending to be involved in unpacking his Econ book from his backpack, he tried to peer at them out of the corners of his eyes. They were definitely watching and listening. Did they suspect something?

"So they said we can still be friends!" Simon said, his enthusiasm undimmed by Morris's tepid reaction.

"Great," Morris snapped. "That really makes my day." Noticing a couple of the other kids smirking at his put-down, he felt a little better.

He let himself glance at Simon. The younger boy was clearly astonished, his feelings hurt. Good, Morris thought heartlessly. Maybe he'll shut up now.

Simon turned back to his desk and spent the rest of the class staring straight ahead as the teacher droned on about supply theory. Morris took elaborate notes, concentrating on not paying any attention to Simon. As soon as the bell rang, Morris jumped to his feet and practically ran out into the hall to his locker. He was still transferring books to and from his backpack as fast as possible when someone grabbed his arm. Simon, of course.

"What do you want?" Morris asked gruffly, shaking his arm out of Simon's grasp.

Simon whined, "What's the matter? Are you still mad about the other night?"

The other night … Morris cringed. This was exactly what he didn't need. He knew very well that Simon couldn't be trusted not to blab all over school about Morris's confession to the Camdens. That would be bad enough, but what if Simon remembered what had happened in the Jeep? The kid had been pretty out of it, but still. With Simon, you never knew what he might say to somebody without even thinking about it. Morris could not risk having his entire senior year ruined by Simon's big fat mouth. He was going to have to be mean.

He took a deep breath. "You bet I'm mad," he snarled so nastily that Simon jumped backwards a step. "I put myself on the line getting you invited to that party, and you thank me by acting like an asshole. Now my friends are pissed at me because your stupid parents called the cops on them and got them in trouble. So yeah, I am pretty friggin' mad!"

Simon was so shocked that he didn't even point out that it was Morris's own fault the party had been busted. He just stood there, his mouth hanging open and his face pale. Morris felt a sharp pang at the look in Simon's eyes. He fought it down. This was necessary, he reminded himself.

Shoving Simon out of the way, Morris slammed his locker closed and took off down the hall to English. He could feel Simon's eyes on his back as he walked away, but the younger boy didn't make any move to follow him. This was exactly what he wanted to happen, Morris reminded himself. So why did he feel so terrible about it?