Beyond the Chocolate War by Robert Cormier

deadly calm, a part of her elsewhere, not in the car, out of his reach, beyond his presence.
    "You okay?" he asked, frowning, emotions in a whirl, wanting to say something , the right thing, but confused, not knowing what to do or say.
    "Yes," she answered. But the yes was unconvincing.
    "Sure?"
    "I'm sure."
    They agreed to do nothing about the assault, decided not to report it to the police. After all, there had been no rape and no injuries inflicted; they had not really seen the assailants, had no evidence, no clues to their identities. What's more, Laurie said she did not want to talk about the attack, not to the police, not to anybody.
    "Talking about it makes me feel dirty," she said. After a long pause: "I don't feel clean anymore."
    He kissed her lightly on the cheek, not daring anything else. She didn't flinch but did not respond. "I'll call you tomorrow after school," he whispered. She did not reply. Then she went into the house, walking slowly, robotlike. Watching her go up the steps, he dreaded the possibility that he had somehow lost her, that things would never be the same again. And told himself: Tomorrow everything will be different, will be better. He clung to that thought. That's all he had.
    Now, on top of all that, a Vigil meeting. The last thing in the world he needed.
     
    Carter saw the Finger and swore.
    He'd avoided Archie this morning, feared somehow that Archie would look into his eyes and know immediately that he had sent the letter to Brother Leon. Carter knew his strengths and weaknesses, knew what he was good at and what he lacked. Confident about his prowess as an athlete, he was no great shakes when it came to Archie's specialties: intimidation, outguessing people, anticipating their thoughts and actions. Archie was always one step ahead.
    Frowning at the bulletin board, as if the λ would disappear if he stared long enough, he wondered whether he had made a mistake. He'd taken a terrible chance when he'd decided to tip off Brother Leon about the visit That kind of thing was outside his experience. He had painstakingly written the letter in fourth-period study, printing with his left hand. Delivering it to Leon had been easy—he had merely slipped it into the letter box inside his office door. The agony came after the letter had been delivered. The realization of what he had done. The possibility that Leon would know through 'some shrewdness who had written it And would inform Archie. Leaving the school, looking over his shoulder, feeling as if unseen watchers were stalking him, Carter was filled with regret. He should have minded his own business, let the Bishop come, let the chips fall. Jeez. Head down, moving in his muscular, athletic way—movements that always kept people out of his path—Carter began hours of torment. Found it hard to concentrate on his homework. Pushed his food around on his plate at supper. Finally plunged into dreamless sleep. But didn't feel rested or refreshed when he woke up.
    He turned away from the bulletin board, blinking away the afterimage of the inverted Y that remained printed on his brain. He spotted Archie Costello heading in his direction, surrounded by stooges, as usual. Carter looked around in panic, spotted the door to the janitor's storage room. He stepped into the room, closed the door softly behind him, didn't turn on the light Listening to the hammering of his heart, he waited, picturing Archie passing by in all his swagger and insolence. What's happened to me? he thought.
    Ah, but he knew what had happened to him. Why he was hiding here in the storage room among the mops and brooms and buckets.
    Writing the letter had been the action of a rat.
    An informer.
    A traitor.
    He had become one of the things he'd always hated, a thing hiding in the dark now, afraid to face the world.
    And all because of Archie Costello.

A German shepherd sat, silent and still, beneath a hovering tree on the sidewalk in front of the white cottage with black shutters on