The List
Chapter Seven
"Who is Craig Sommers?" Mrs. Hardy asked, sitting down at the table.
"He's one of the guys in my Creative Expression's class," Joe answered. "It says he had been playing tetherball alone and the line wrapped his throat, strangling him."
"That's rough," Frank commented with a frown, wondering if it had been an accident, considering the class he shared with Joe.
"Yeah," Joe agreed. "He was the coolest kid in the class."
"You don't like the others?" inquired Mr. Hardy.
"Some are okay," Joe admitted. "But there are a few who I could do without."
"Like Tim?" Frank asked casually, still wondering what was going on the previous afternoon.
"Tim's not so bad," Joe stated, surprising Frank.
"Who is Tim?" Mr. Hardy wnated to know, picking up his coffee and taking a sip.
"He's a senior in my class," Joe informed him. "He lives over on Brayman with his sister and mom." Joe dug into his breakfast, ending the conversation.
"Want to go to the beach after school?" Frank asked Joe once they were on their way.
"Sure!" Joe agreed, his face lighting up. "Maybe the girls can....." he stopped, remembering Vanessa had to help her mom out. "Why don't we wait?" he asked. "I want to drive out to the Benders and see how they are doing."
"Great idea!" Frank agreed. "We can grab some take-out and furnish dinner to help out."
"Sounds like a plan," Joe agreed as Frank pulled to a stop in the back of the school. "See you at lunch," he added, getting out and taking off.
Joe hurried inside to his locker, grabbed his algebra book and headed for the gym. Tim had asked him to meet him there before first period.
Frank had gotten inside and was on his way to his locker when he saw Joe going in the opposite direction of his first class. He started to follow but someone grabbed his upper arm, preventing him from following.
"How's Joe?" Biff asked, stepping around in front of Frank and releasing him.
"He still won't tell me anything," Frank replied, his brown eyes flashing in frustration.
"I couldn't believe it when Phil told us Creative Expression was a class for kids who might be suicidal," Biff stated.
"Shh!" Frank hissed. "No one is supposed to know."
"Why did they put Joe in that class?" Biff demanded. "He would never do anything like kill himself."
"I used to think so, but now I'm not so sure," Frank said. "He does have the same attributes as a textbook example and we did find those pills in his pocket." Frank shook his head. "If only he weren't keeping so many secrets."
"Have you...." Biff began but someone fell into him. "Hey! Watch it!" he said, reaching out to help the guy up. The boy regained his balance and backed away, mumbling he was sorry and took off.
"It's getting crowded out here," Frank observed. "And late," he added, looking at his watch. "We had better get to class."
Joe entered the gym and saw Tim leaning against the far wall. He started over and Tim came to meet him. "Okay," Joe said. "Why did you ask me to meet you here?"
"I tried to talk to you yesterday, but there were always too many people around," Tim told him.
"So, talk," Joe ordered, looking at him questioningly.
"I wanted to thank you," Tim said, causing Joe's eyes to shoot wide open in surprise before narrowing suspiciously.
"For what?" Joe wanted to know.
"For stopping my sister," Tim told him. He saw Joe still didn't know what he was talking about. "The girl in the alley with the pills," he explained. "She found them and didn't know what they were. When I found out she had taken them, I jumped all over her. She said she thought since I had them, they were candy or something. Then she told me you scared her in the alley and she dropped them," Tim ended, looking at the floor.
"What were you doing with Valium?" Joe asked, concern creeping into his voice.
Tim shrugged. "I just had them."
Joe put a hand on Tim's shoulder, but he backed away. "I don't need your sympathy," Tim snarled.
"That's a relief," Joe stated. "Because I wasn't going to give you any. You've got a kid sister who obviously looks up to you," he continued. "Whatever you do is going to affect her."
"What do you know about it?" Tim demanded, glaring at Joe.
"I've got an older brother," Joe reminded him. "And I idolized him for years. I still look up to him."
The rage Tim felt seemed to vanish. "I don't know what to do," Tim admitted. "At times, it seems like the more I try, the worse things get."
"Have you tried talking to anyone?" Joe asked, his voice almost drowned out by the bell announcing home room.
Tim shook his head. "Jenny, my sister, is too young and mom is part of the problem."
"Your friends?" Joe asked.
"What friends?" Tim demanded with a curt laugh. "I don't have any real friends."
"Yes, you do," Joe informed him. "Me. I'll listen and help in any way I can. But maybe," he continued before Tim could say anything, "you should start by talking to Patty. She is a licensed psychiatrist," he pointed out, remembering the diploma on the wall in her office.
"I don't know," Tim replied hesitantly.
"Well, think about it," Joe encouraged him. "And in the meantime, I'm here if you need to talk."
"Thanks," Tim said, smiling at Joe. "I guess we had better move or we will miss first period as well as homeroom."
At lunch, Joe noticed his friends acting decidely different. "Okay," he said, finally having had enough. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"What do you mean?" Chet asked with a nervous little laugh.
"Either tell me, or I'm leaving," Joe stated firmly, his blue eyes hard as he stared at his friends.
"It's my fault," Frank admitted after no one had spoken and Joe started to gt up. "I told them about Annabell."
"And?" Joe demanded, figuring there had to be more to it.
"And none of us think it's fair for you to not even tell Frank who the mother was," Callie said, elaborating on the lie Frank had begun.
"I promised I wouldn't," Joe said, his eyes reflecting hurt. "Would any of you want me to break a promise I had made to you?" he demanded, getting up and leaving anyway.
He had only taken a couple of steps when Valerie stepped in front of him. She took his arm and turned him around, leading him back to the table. "Don't be mad at Joe," she begged Frank and the others. "I asked him not to tell. Annabell's my daughter," the sixteen-year-old informed the stunned group.
She turned and looked at Joe. "You were right," she told him. "I did need to stop hiding. I am not ashamed of Annabell and it's okay if people know I'm a mother." She gave him a smile that lit up her entire face. "With friends like you, I can handle anything anyone throws at me," she said.
"I owe you my daughter and my parents. If it wasn't for you, I would have put Annabell up for adoption and never returned home. I'll never be able to thank you," Valerie added.
"You don't have to," Joe replied gently. "Just take care of yourself and Annabell."
"Would you like to sit with us?" Callie asked the girl.
"Thank you, but no," Valerie declined. "I need to go to the library before my next class. But thank you," she said again before leaving.
"I'm sorry, Joe," Frank said, looking up at his brother who still stood there holding his tray.
"We are too," Phil said, speaking for everyone as heads nodded their agreement.
"That's okay," Joe forgave them with a grin. "But don't let it happen again," he added, trying hard to look stern, but failing.
"Sit back down," Chet said, snatching Joe's tray from his hands and putting it back on the table.
"Did Vanessa know?" Frank asked Joe as he sat down. Joe nodded and told them about the trip to the hospital.
The group finished eating and got up to leave as an announcement came over the loudspeaker. "Classes have been canceled for the rest of the day," the principal said, causing cheers throughout the school. "All students please prepare to leave immediately."
"I wonder what that's about?" Frank said a frown forming on his face.
"Who cares?" Joe asked. "We're free."
"But why were classes canceled?" Phil asked, picking up on Frank's train of thought. "They usually give us a reason when classes are canceled."
"Let's find out," Joe said, carrying his tray up to the lunch room window. The others followed suit.
"Maybe I ought to go and see what's wrong," Frank suggested. "I doubt Principal Dylan would like it if we all went charging into his office."
"Fine," Joe said. "We'll meet you at the van. I've got to run to my locker anyway."
Frank left for the principal's office and Joe took off for his locker while the others went outside.
Joe had to pass by the room where his Creative Expression class was held to get to his locker. As he neared the room, he heard a drawer slam shut. Assuming it was Amy, Joe rapped on the door. Receiving no reply, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open, going inside.
"Amy?" Joe called out, not seeing anyone. He turned to leave but never made it as something heavy crashed onto the back of his head. Joe fell to the floor unconscious.
Chapter Seven
"Who is Craig Sommers?" Mrs. Hardy asked, sitting down at the table.
"He's one of the guys in my Creative Expression's class," Joe answered. "It says he had been playing tetherball alone and the line wrapped his throat, strangling him."
"That's rough," Frank commented with a frown, wondering if it had been an accident, considering the class he shared with Joe.
"Yeah," Joe agreed. "He was the coolest kid in the class."
"You don't like the others?" inquired Mr. Hardy.
"Some are okay," Joe admitted. "But there are a few who I could do without."
"Like Tim?" Frank asked casually, still wondering what was going on the previous afternoon.
"Tim's not so bad," Joe stated, surprising Frank.
"Who is Tim?" Mr. Hardy wnated to know, picking up his coffee and taking a sip.
"He's a senior in my class," Joe informed him. "He lives over on Brayman with his sister and mom." Joe dug into his breakfast, ending the conversation.
"Want to go to the beach after school?" Frank asked Joe once they were on their way.
"Sure!" Joe agreed, his face lighting up. "Maybe the girls can....." he stopped, remembering Vanessa had to help her mom out. "Why don't we wait?" he asked. "I want to drive out to the Benders and see how they are doing."
"Great idea!" Frank agreed. "We can grab some take-out and furnish dinner to help out."
"Sounds like a plan," Joe agreed as Frank pulled to a stop in the back of the school. "See you at lunch," he added, getting out and taking off.
Joe hurried inside to his locker, grabbed his algebra book and headed for the gym. Tim had asked him to meet him there before first period.
Frank had gotten inside and was on his way to his locker when he saw Joe going in the opposite direction of his first class. He started to follow but someone grabbed his upper arm, preventing him from following.
"How's Joe?" Biff asked, stepping around in front of Frank and releasing him.
"He still won't tell me anything," Frank replied, his brown eyes flashing in frustration.
"I couldn't believe it when Phil told us Creative Expression was a class for kids who might be suicidal," Biff stated.
"Shh!" Frank hissed. "No one is supposed to know."
"Why did they put Joe in that class?" Biff demanded. "He would never do anything like kill himself."
"I used to think so, but now I'm not so sure," Frank said. "He does have the same attributes as a textbook example and we did find those pills in his pocket." Frank shook his head. "If only he weren't keeping so many secrets."
"Have you...." Biff began but someone fell into him. "Hey! Watch it!" he said, reaching out to help the guy up. The boy regained his balance and backed away, mumbling he was sorry and took off.
"It's getting crowded out here," Frank observed. "And late," he added, looking at his watch. "We had better get to class."
Joe entered the gym and saw Tim leaning against the far wall. He started over and Tim came to meet him. "Okay," Joe said. "Why did you ask me to meet you here?"
"I tried to talk to you yesterday, but there were always too many people around," Tim told him.
"So, talk," Joe ordered, looking at him questioningly.
"I wanted to thank you," Tim said, causing Joe's eyes to shoot wide open in surprise before narrowing suspiciously.
"For what?" Joe wanted to know.
"For stopping my sister," Tim told him. He saw Joe still didn't know what he was talking about. "The girl in the alley with the pills," he explained. "She found them and didn't know what they were. When I found out she had taken them, I jumped all over her. She said she thought since I had them, they were candy or something. Then she told me you scared her in the alley and she dropped them," Tim ended, looking at the floor.
"What were you doing with Valium?" Joe asked, concern creeping into his voice.
Tim shrugged. "I just had them."
Joe put a hand on Tim's shoulder, but he backed away. "I don't need your sympathy," Tim snarled.
"That's a relief," Joe stated. "Because I wasn't going to give you any. You've got a kid sister who obviously looks up to you," he continued. "Whatever you do is going to affect her."
"What do you know about it?" Tim demanded, glaring at Joe.
"I've got an older brother," Joe reminded him. "And I idolized him for years. I still look up to him."
The rage Tim felt seemed to vanish. "I don't know what to do," Tim admitted. "At times, it seems like the more I try, the worse things get."
"Have you tried talking to anyone?" Joe asked, his voice almost drowned out by the bell announcing home room.
Tim shook his head. "Jenny, my sister, is too young and mom is part of the problem."
"Your friends?" Joe asked.
"What friends?" Tim demanded with a curt laugh. "I don't have any real friends."
"Yes, you do," Joe informed him. "Me. I'll listen and help in any way I can. But maybe," he continued before Tim could say anything, "you should start by talking to Patty. She is a licensed psychiatrist," he pointed out, remembering the diploma on the wall in her office.
"I don't know," Tim replied hesitantly.
"Well, think about it," Joe encouraged him. "And in the meantime, I'm here if you need to talk."
"Thanks," Tim said, smiling at Joe. "I guess we had better move or we will miss first period as well as homeroom."
At lunch, Joe noticed his friends acting decidely different. "Okay," he said, finally having had enough. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"What do you mean?" Chet asked with a nervous little laugh.
"Either tell me, or I'm leaving," Joe stated firmly, his blue eyes hard as he stared at his friends.
"It's my fault," Frank admitted after no one had spoken and Joe started to gt up. "I told them about Annabell."
"And?" Joe demanded, figuring there had to be more to it.
"And none of us think it's fair for you to not even tell Frank who the mother was," Callie said, elaborating on the lie Frank had begun.
"I promised I wouldn't," Joe said, his eyes reflecting hurt. "Would any of you want me to break a promise I had made to you?" he demanded, getting up and leaving anyway.
He had only taken a couple of steps when Valerie stepped in front of him. She took his arm and turned him around, leading him back to the table. "Don't be mad at Joe," she begged Frank and the others. "I asked him not to tell. Annabell's my daughter," the sixteen-year-old informed the stunned group.
She turned and looked at Joe. "You were right," she told him. "I did need to stop hiding. I am not ashamed of Annabell and it's okay if people know I'm a mother." She gave him a smile that lit up her entire face. "With friends like you, I can handle anything anyone throws at me," she said.
"I owe you my daughter and my parents. If it wasn't for you, I would have put Annabell up for adoption and never returned home. I'll never be able to thank you," Valerie added.
"You don't have to," Joe replied gently. "Just take care of yourself and Annabell."
"Would you like to sit with us?" Callie asked the girl.
"Thank you, but no," Valerie declined. "I need to go to the library before my next class. But thank you," she said again before leaving.
"I'm sorry, Joe," Frank said, looking up at his brother who still stood there holding his tray.
"We are too," Phil said, speaking for everyone as heads nodded their agreement.
"That's okay," Joe forgave them with a grin. "But don't let it happen again," he added, trying hard to look stern, but failing.
"Sit back down," Chet said, snatching Joe's tray from his hands and putting it back on the table.
"Did Vanessa know?" Frank asked Joe as he sat down. Joe nodded and told them about the trip to the hospital.
The group finished eating and got up to leave as an announcement came over the loudspeaker. "Classes have been canceled for the rest of the day," the principal said, causing cheers throughout the school. "All students please prepare to leave immediately."
"I wonder what that's about?" Frank said a frown forming on his face.
"Who cares?" Joe asked. "We're free."
"But why were classes canceled?" Phil asked, picking up on Frank's train of thought. "They usually give us a reason when classes are canceled."
"Let's find out," Joe said, carrying his tray up to the lunch room window. The others followed suit.
"Maybe I ought to go and see what's wrong," Frank suggested. "I doubt Principal Dylan would like it if we all went charging into his office."
"Fine," Joe said. "We'll meet you at the van. I've got to run to my locker anyway."
Frank left for the principal's office and Joe took off for his locker while the others went outside.
Joe had to pass by the room where his Creative Expression class was held to get to his locker. As he neared the room, he heard a drawer slam shut. Assuming it was Amy, Joe rapped on the door. Receiving no reply, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open, going inside.
"Amy?" Joe called out, not seeing anyone. He turned to leave but never made it as something heavy crashed onto the back of his head. Joe fell to the floor unconscious.