Eleanor by Johnny Worthen

nuthin’, you know. Gotta keep clean for a while.”
    â€œNot a problem,” said Russell. “Pass the bottle.”
    The boys passed the bottle around until it ran out and Greg smashed it on the street. Then he offered them beers from the cab of his truck. While he passed them out, Russell flicked his knife open and closed with the regularity of a dying heartbeat.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    H alloween was on Wednesday, half a week away. Eleanor spent the weekend playing cards with her mother, cleaning the house, doing homework, and worrying herself sick thinking about what Russell would do to David. Of course it had been David they were talking about. David they’d ambush on Halloween. David they’d hurt.
    She could warn him, but that would only postpone things. She couldn’t walk him home every night. Even if she did, she couldn’t protect him, only use her senses to steer him along a safer path. “Safe” was relative with people like Russell Liddle and Greg Finlay. Eventually they’d catch David and let loose their fury on him. The longer it went unspent, the greater it would be. It didn’t matter if David never actually did anything to any of them. That never mattered. They’d blame him for things he couldn’t imagine, strike out at him for their fears, their delusions, their own misfortunes and shortcomings. It would be wicked and brutal and savage, and even if he survived it, David would never be the same, and the attackers would never be made to account.
    Tabitha sensed Eleanor’s mood and tried to draw her out, but Tabitha went in and out of focus under the pain pills and was easily deflected. That weekend was a particularly bad one for her, and Eleanor put her mother to bed early each night after she fell asleep in her chair, cards cupped in her fingers. Eleanor told her mother that she was still upset about the incident in the hall with Barbara, but she suspected her mother was not so easily deceived and knew something else was troubling her daughter.
    By Monday, Eleanor had a plan. It was foolish, dangerous, expensive, and it probably wouldn’t work, but she could think of nothing better. The only other plan that rivaled her crazy one was a confession to the police about what she’d overheard. But in so small a town, as precarious as she felt her existence in Jamesford to be, she dispelled it.
    The school was abuzz about the rodeo’s outcome. Jamesford High had won overall first place with individual trophies coming for marksmanship, female barrels, and male calf roping. It was the best Jamesford had done in a decade, and Principal Curtz arranged for a special cake at lunch in celebration.
    Mrs. Hart made a point of congratulating David in her class and made him stand up. Eleanor felt Russell’s hatred across the room as the other students gave David another round of applause. He’d been the only sophomore to trophy. Eleanor heard Russell grumbling about his cheating, but he said it low enough that only his closest neighbors, part of his gang, could hear it.
    Eleanor made herself sit with David at lunch. Her usual table was filled with David’s friends, and she had trouble getting a chair. When she did, she had to force herself to remain calm. Barbara was practically sitting in the same seat as David, rubbing against his shoulder like an animal marking territory.
    Eleanor choked back an urge to scream and patiently waited for the group to thin. She ignored Barbara’s inane prattle when David tried to tell a story about his dad giving him the gun when he shipped out last spring. She was interested in the story of David’s father and wanted to strangle Barbara with her color-coordinated shoe laces.
    While she waited, Eleanor ate heartily. Eleanor took seconds on her lunch and thirds on the cake. Miss Church, the cafeteria leader, was surprised to see her eat so much and made only a half-joking comment about Eleanor’s skinny legs