man.”
“Sure.”
“It wasn’t. I mean, maybe you thought it was. Maybe I can see why you could think that, but it wasn’t.”
“ Can you see why I’d think it was you?” I’m still trying to figure out if he could have done it, even if he didn’t do this. If he could have, maybe it’s the same as if he did. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
“I’m not following what you mean.”
“You’ve done a lot of other stuff. Why should I believe you didn’t do this? Why would anyone believe you, Cole?” I know he didn’t do it, but I want to see him squirm. I hate him for all the stuff he’s done to me since I’ve been here. I hate him for scaring my family, too. I want him to at least think about that for once. “Everyone’s sure you did it because they all know what a raging asshole you are. Everyone.”
When I say “everyone,” Clinton’s face changes, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. He turns away and walks to the door again and looks out, but I know it’s just for something to do this time. He stands by the door a long time, and I sit there, quiet, feeling my face hurt. Finally he comes back.
He says, “Look, I know I wasn’t nice to you, but…” He gestures at me. “This was over the line. I wouldn’t do that.” He takes a breath, a shaky one, and looks away. “You’ve got to believe me. My parents—they split up last year, and my mom’s trying her best with us, but this is killing her. I don’t expect you to care about me, but you know my mom. And my sister, Melody. They’re good people. Probably I’m not a good person, but I’m not… I wouldn’t do this. Cutting someone up. A baseball bat—shit—maybe I’m a jerk, but I’m not an animal. I didn’t do this. I didn’t—”
“I know you didn’t.”
I don’t know why I say it. I was planning on playing with him, toying with him awhile to see what he’d do. But when it comes down to it, I can’t. He’s there, practically blubbering, talking about his mom, and it makes me think of my own family, my parents. Clinton’s still going, but when I say that, he stops. He looks at me.
“Huh?”
“I know you didn’t do it,” I say. “I saw the guy who did this. It wasn’t you.”
His face breaks into a big, doofy grin like he’d kiss me if … well, if he wasn’t him and I wasn’t me.
“That’s great.” He points toward the door. “Did you tell them?”
I shake my head no. “I said I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” His smile begins to fade.
“Cole, you’ve been hounding me since the first day I walked into school. You left notes in my locker. You threw rocks at my house. My family’s afraid to go outside because of you. You bother me every chance you get, and I’m sick of it.”
“Look, man, I’m—”
“Sorry. Right. For now, so I’ll tell the cops it wasn’t you.” Clinton’s looking at the door again. “They can’t hear us. I can take you down. I have every reason to let you rot in jail and get you off my back.”
“Would you do that?”
“I want to. I really want to.”
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“What about this is right? I know you threw the rock at my house. Daria doesn’t make stuff up, and she couldn’t have known that if you didn’t do it. You did it. You hurt my sister, hurt all of us. But they’ll give you a hand slap for that. You think that’s right?”
“I don’t know.”
I don’t say anything. He paces across the room, then comes back. “No. No, it wasn’t right. It was a crummy thing to do. I didn’t want to hurt Carolina. She’s a sweet kid.”
“But you wanted to hurt me?”
“No. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I didn’t want to get hurt, either. I wanted you out of here. I don’t hate you. It wasn’t personal, but I didn’t want to sit by you in class. I didn’t want to get AIDS.”
I nod. “I didn’t want HIV, either. But you can’t catch anything, being in class with me.”
“How can you be sure, though?”
“You get HIV
“Sure.”
“It wasn’t. I mean, maybe you thought it was. Maybe I can see why you could think that, but it wasn’t.”
“ Can you see why I’d think it was you?” I’m still trying to figure out if he could have done it, even if he didn’t do this. If he could have, maybe it’s the same as if he did. Maybe it doesn’t matter.
“I’m not following what you mean.”
“You’ve done a lot of other stuff. Why should I believe you didn’t do this? Why would anyone believe you, Cole?” I know he didn’t do it, but I want to see him squirm. I hate him for all the stuff he’s done to me since I’ve been here. I hate him for scaring my family, too. I want him to at least think about that for once. “Everyone’s sure you did it because they all know what a raging asshole you are. Everyone.”
When I say “everyone,” Clinton’s face changes, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. He turns away and walks to the door again and looks out, but I know it’s just for something to do this time. He stands by the door a long time, and I sit there, quiet, feeling my face hurt. Finally he comes back.
He says, “Look, I know I wasn’t nice to you, but…” He gestures at me. “This was over the line. I wouldn’t do that.” He takes a breath, a shaky one, and looks away. “You’ve got to believe me. My parents—they split up last year, and my mom’s trying her best with us, but this is killing her. I don’t expect you to care about me, but you know my mom. And my sister, Melody. They’re good people. Probably I’m not a good person, but I’m not… I wouldn’t do this. Cutting someone up. A baseball bat—shit—maybe I’m a jerk, but I’m not an animal. I didn’t do this. I didn’t—”
“I know you didn’t.”
I don’t know why I say it. I was planning on playing with him, toying with him awhile to see what he’d do. But when it comes down to it, I can’t. He’s there, practically blubbering, talking about his mom, and it makes me think of my own family, my parents. Clinton’s still going, but when I say that, he stops. He looks at me.
“Huh?”
“I know you didn’t do it,” I say. “I saw the guy who did this. It wasn’t you.”
His face breaks into a big, doofy grin like he’d kiss me if … well, if he wasn’t him and I wasn’t me.
“That’s great.” He points toward the door. “Did you tell them?”
I shake my head no. “I said I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?” His smile begins to fade.
“Cole, you’ve been hounding me since the first day I walked into school. You left notes in my locker. You threw rocks at my house. My family’s afraid to go outside because of you. You bother me every chance you get, and I’m sick of it.”
“Look, man, I’m—”
“Sorry. Right. For now, so I’ll tell the cops it wasn’t you.” Clinton’s looking at the door again. “They can’t hear us. I can take you down. I have every reason to let you rot in jail and get you off my back.”
“Would you do that?”
“I want to. I really want to.”
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“What about this is right? I know you threw the rock at my house. Daria doesn’t make stuff up, and she couldn’t have known that if you didn’t do it. You did it. You hurt my sister, hurt all of us. But they’ll give you a hand slap for that. You think that’s right?”
“I don’t know.”
I don’t say anything. He paces across the room, then comes back. “No. No, it wasn’t right. It was a crummy thing to do. I didn’t want to hurt Carolina. She’s a sweet kid.”
“But you wanted to hurt me?”
“No. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I didn’t want to get hurt, either. I wanted you out of here. I don’t hate you. It wasn’t personal, but I didn’t want to sit by you in class. I didn’t want to get AIDS.”
I nod. “I didn’t want HIV, either. But you can’t catch anything, being in class with me.”
“How can you be sure, though?”
“You get HIV
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