metal worktables to pull himself together. There was a large spindly model of an isotropic vector matrix sitting in the middle of the table, and Kieran picked it up, turning it over in his hands.
All he could think about was Olivia.
He didn’t want to go to class or to lunch or really anywhere on campus, because he didn’t want Olivia to see his bruises and know how weak he was. He’d really tried to help that girl, tried to do the right thing like he knew Olivia would have wanted. But in the end it was all for nothing.
He was a failure.
A weak, useless loser who can’t even protect himself.
“Oh, hey.” A male voice came from the doorway. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
Kieran looked up and saw Mr. Bennett, the geometry teacher. He was short and chunky with thinning, light-brown hair and glasses. He didn’t have a pocket protector in the breast pocket of his white button-down shirt, but he may as well have.
“Man,” he said when he saw Kieran’s face. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Kieran said, setting the geometry model down on the table. “Same old same old, you know.”
“I do,” Mr. Bennett said, coming forward and sitting down beside him. “Believe me I do. You know, this may come as a shock, but I wasn’t always the studly chick magnet you see before you today. In fact, I used to get my butt kicked all the time, back in high school.”
Kieran laughed and shook his head.
“Hey, look,” Mr. Bennett said. “You can report this if you want to. I’ll back you up on it.”
Kieran frowned and was surprised by how much that expression hurt.
“I can’t,” Kieran said, raising his hand to touch his burning eyebrow. “That will only make it worse. You oughta know that. Guys like them, they can do whatever they want and never have to pick up the check.”
“Okay,” Mr. Bennett said. “But trust me, it does get better. Maybe not perfect, but better.”
“Thanks,” Kieran said. “I’m just gonna stay here by myself for a while, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” Mr. Bennett said. “Take as much time as you need.”
15
Olivia sat in the library with a neatly organized stack of books on the long wooden table in front of her. It was a warm, cozy sanctuary from the bitter New England winter, all rich, polished wood and worn leather and the musty perfume of foxed paper.
She was restless, and eagerly looking forward to the spring and summer, when her favorite outdoor activities— like mountain biking, track, and skeet shooting—would start up again. But for a displaced Florida girl still unused to the cold, spending the evening in the warm library suited her just fine.
The books were all about Allan Pinkerton and the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. She was supposed to be doing research for a social studies paper, but her mind kept wandering back to Kieran.
She hadn’t seen him at lunch or dinner, which seemed odd since they always sat together. And if you missed meals at Deerborn, you were stuck eating out of the rec hall snack machine. It wasn’t like you just popped out for a burger. It was a twenty-minute drive into town, and even though Kieran had a car, one his mother had bought him, seniors were normally only allowed off-campus on the weekends.
They usually saw each other briefly between sixth and seventh periods, too, as she was leaving her chemistry class and he was heading up to the biology lab for his senior science project. He hadn’t been there, and Olivia had to leave to make seventh period english lit.
She was starting to worry about him. She’d even stopped by the school nurse to see if he might have been sick, or having problems with his heart.
No one had seen him.
Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Kieran appeared from behind a tall bookcase. He wore a black knit cap and was slouching in his oversized black parka, looking like a turtle trying to pull its head into its shell. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and the narrow strip of face that
All he could think about was Olivia.
He didn’t want to go to class or to lunch or really anywhere on campus, because he didn’t want Olivia to see his bruises and know how weak he was. He’d really tried to help that girl, tried to do the right thing like he knew Olivia would have wanted. But in the end it was all for nothing.
He was a failure.
A weak, useless loser who can’t even protect himself.
“Oh, hey.” A male voice came from the doorway. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
Kieran looked up and saw Mr. Bennett, the geometry teacher. He was short and chunky with thinning, light-brown hair and glasses. He didn’t have a pocket protector in the breast pocket of his white button-down shirt, but he may as well have.
“Man,” he said when he saw Kieran’s face. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Kieran said, setting the geometry model down on the table. “Same old same old, you know.”
“I do,” Mr. Bennett said, coming forward and sitting down beside him. “Believe me I do. You know, this may come as a shock, but I wasn’t always the studly chick magnet you see before you today. In fact, I used to get my butt kicked all the time, back in high school.”
Kieran laughed and shook his head.
“Hey, look,” Mr. Bennett said. “You can report this if you want to. I’ll back you up on it.”
Kieran frowned and was surprised by how much that expression hurt.
“I can’t,” Kieran said, raising his hand to touch his burning eyebrow. “That will only make it worse. You oughta know that. Guys like them, they can do whatever they want and never have to pick up the check.”
“Okay,” Mr. Bennett said. “But trust me, it does get better. Maybe not perfect, but better.”
“Thanks,” Kieran said. “I’m just gonna stay here by myself for a while, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” Mr. Bennett said. “Take as much time as you need.”
15
Olivia sat in the library with a neatly organized stack of books on the long wooden table in front of her. It was a warm, cozy sanctuary from the bitter New England winter, all rich, polished wood and worn leather and the musty perfume of foxed paper.
She was restless, and eagerly looking forward to the spring and summer, when her favorite outdoor activities— like mountain biking, track, and skeet shooting—would start up again. But for a displaced Florida girl still unused to the cold, spending the evening in the warm library suited her just fine.
The books were all about Allan Pinkerton and the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. She was supposed to be doing research for a social studies paper, but her mind kept wandering back to Kieran.
She hadn’t seen him at lunch or dinner, which seemed odd since they always sat together. And if you missed meals at Deerborn, you were stuck eating out of the rec hall snack machine. It wasn’t like you just popped out for a burger. It was a twenty-minute drive into town, and even though Kieran had a car, one his mother had bought him, seniors were normally only allowed off-campus on the weekends.
They usually saw each other briefly between sixth and seventh periods, too, as she was leaving her chemistry class and he was heading up to the biology lab for his senior science project. He hadn’t been there, and Olivia had to leave to make seventh period english lit.
She was starting to worry about him. She’d even stopped by the school nurse to see if he might have been sick, or having problems with his heart.
No one had seen him.
Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Kieran appeared from behind a tall bookcase. He wore a black knit cap and was slouching in his oversized black parka, looking like a turtle trying to pull its head into its shell. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and the narrow strip of face that
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