The Secret Talent by Jo Whittemore

Author:Jo Whittemore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-07-07T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

7

The Truth About Tim

“You can’t do that!” I exploded. “We had a deal.”

Ryan studied his nails, unconcerned. “And I’m changing it. I don’t see why you’re freaking out. Have you even seen the tasks?” He took the paper back from me and pointed to an item. “Look: iron my pants. I only have one pair, your pair, so that’s an easy one.” He smiled reassuringly.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why are you torturing me? There’s nothing I’ve ever done to you that deserves this.”

Ryan’s smug expression slid into a scowl. “How about every time you strut down the hall like you own the school? Or how all the girls flock around you and ignore everyone else? Or all your family members who think you’re so perfect?” He practically spat the words. “And with all that, you still have to make the coolest kids in class laugh at me?”

“Geez, let it go!” I threw my hands in the air. “You were being a jerk. You deserved it.”

Ryan’s calm demeanor returned. “And you deserve this.” He waved the paper in my face. “This is for all the ordinary kids like me who never get justice.”

I shook my head. “No. Forget it. This time I’m—”

“Timmy, let me paint a picture for you,” said Ryan, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “You’re in sixth grade now. You’ve still got two more years at Abraham Lincoln Middle School. If I reveal your dance video and the fact that you can be blackmailed, how well do you think the next few years are going to go?”

I clenched my jaw but didn’t say anything. The kid was an evil genius.

“Let me help you see it,” he continued. “Because of the video, you’ll lose all your admirers. Because of the blackmail, you’ll be running favors for anyone who can dig up dirt on you. Your best bet is to keep working for me.” Ryan placed a hand on his heart. “I will personally guarantee things don’t get worse for you than this.”

There haven’t been many times I’ve wanted to cry. The last occasion, four years ago, was after my aunt Rose, Uncle Theo’s wife, had died, and it was more out of sadness for Uncle Theo. Right now, though, I had to fight back tears of fear, frustration, and rage.

Ryan had complete control of my life.

All the mocking images came back again, complete with laugh track, until Gabby’s voice busted through.

“Whoa! That’s not . . .” She approached us, V grinning beside her. “Ryan Durstwich?” She reached out and tentatively poked him in the shoulder.

Ryan gave a chuckle that sounded friendly enough, but to me should’ve included flames and him holding a pitchfork. “Impressed?” he asked.

“Uh . . . yeah!” Gabby turned to Vanessa. “You did all this?”

Vanessa giggled and blushed. “Well, I didn’t do that much.”

“Don’t be modest,” said Ryan. “I was a mess; I’ll admit it.” He checked his phone. “But I should be getting home.”

I snorted. “Like anybody there misses you.”

Vanessa and Gabby stared at me.

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