Tap Out by Eric Devine

Author:Eric Devine [Devine, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, young adult, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780762445691
Publisher: Running Press Kids
Published: 2012-09-11T00:00:00+00:00

14

I’m exhausted, couldn’t sleep and have no fucking interest in school, but I’m here because it’s safe. How fucked up is that? I stayed up all night waiting for Cam. Or Dave. Neither showed. Maybe Cam found what he needed, but my guess is whatever it is wasn’t here at all. I’d put money on the fact that he’ll be back and that Dave will get even with me. Here or at home. It’s just a matter of time.

Rob’s fight’s tomorrow, and Fridays are when Cam usually gets tore up, so I’ve got to get my head straight.

The wall-eyed janitors are watching TV, looking stoned. Neither even flinches when I bang around with a sweeper and dustpan. Franks isn’t here, probably stalking kids in the hall, so I take off to the English wing. I’ll sweep there and over in Bio. If he wanted more, then he should have been here to tell me.

The English hall’s as boring as Lance’s class, a whole lot of teachers talking and kids melting in their seats. I peek in Myers’s room, and she’s sitting at her desk reading a stack of papers, red pen in one hand. It’d be fantastic if she read my essay while I’m out here. I’d love to see her freak out. I sweep by and nothing happens. I pass by again and she’s just reading and writing notes.

The Bio hall still reeks, but at least there’s more action. Some lab’s using the burners. I pass by and a kid takes the tubing from the glass piece and lights it, waves it at his partner. They laugh until the teacher turns around, and the partner slams into the glass piece, which smacks the ground and turns into shards. The first kid turns off the gas and is looking all innocent at the ground by the time the teacher approaches.

I step into the room. The teacher’s about to speak, probably to give them hell, but stops when he sees the sweeper. “Did someone call for you?” His head’s wrinkled in confusion, and I feel a little bad for him. All these years around douche bags like us and these pickling chemicals, bet his brain’s shot to shit.

“Just passing by.” I point at the mess. “You want me to get that?” I don’t know why I felt the urge to help, but I look up from the pile and the lab partners stare at me like I’m Jesus.

“Yes. Yes, thank you.”

“No problem.” I twitch my wrists and set the head flat, then twist and slide the bristles around the pile and scoot the mess into the hall. I push it forward and hear the teacher behind me, “Now, what were you two doing?”

“Look at the grease monkey turned janitor.” Dave moves away from the classroom he’s left. “You trying out all the cocksucking jobs until you find the right taste?”

I grip the handle to steady myself. He steps and I can see that from the edge of his chin to the middle of his forehead is an oval bruise, dark purple and swollen.

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