The Domino Effect by Andrew Cotto Page A

said, pinching his mouth to one side. “I was meaning to have you to my apartment, but I might as well speak with you now.”
    “No, no, it’s OK, Mr. Wright. I’ll come upstairs later. I’ll come later. What time works for you?”
    “I understand you were involved in an altercation, of sorts, outside the dorm recently.” Not much of a listener, that guy. “And I wanted to let you know how troubled I was by that. Troubled and concerned.”
    “Hey. I was just on my way home, and those guys were messing with me. No big deal, though. Nothing happened.”
    “Well, I imagine there was more to it than that,” he said, with that all-knowing tone adults have.
    “Nah, not really,” I said. “That was it.”
    He squinted and crossed his arms. “Despite my efforts, I suspect there is something going on, a rivalry of sorts, between the two camps, and I want it to stop.”
    “Talk to them,” I said.
    “To whom?”
    “The wrestlers.”
    “I recently met with their coach, and it is his contention that his players are being provoked.”
    He was right, and he was wrong. Like a lot of things, it was kind of complicated. I probably could have provided some insight, some help in figuring things out before they got out of hand, but I didn’t say a word.
    “You know, Daniel,” he said. “The reason I brought Mr. King down to your room is that I understood you were someone who could bring people together. An ambassador of sorts.”
    “Oh yeah?” I laughed. “Where’d you get that idea?”
    “A little birdie told me.”
    “Nah,” I said. “That’s not me.”
    He stroked his beard and sized me up.
    “Hey,” Brenda, thankfully, interrupted
    Within the gray surroundings her auburn hair seemed especially bright. She settled next to me, and it felt good having her by my side. With a mitten-covered hand inside my elbow, she shifted her eyes from me to Mr. Wright. I began to move us away, but she held me in place while extending her free hand. “Hi. I’m Brenda, Danny’s friend.”
    “Hello Brenda,” said the English teacher. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Mr. Wright.”
    “Mr. Wright, huh?” She played her own straight man. “My mother said I’d meet you someday.”
    He laughed. She smiled. I pulled her along.
    “Come on.”
    “OK,” she said. “So long, Mr. Wright.”
    “Au revoir,” he called after us. “Think about what I said, Daniel.”
    We escaped Mr. Technicolor Sweater and stopped on the road behind the dining hall, beneath a tree with bare branches. Dry leaves scratched past our feet as we kissed.
    “What was that all about?” Brenda pulled away to ask.
    “What?”
    “What Mr. Wright asked you to think about.”
    “I forget,” I said. “You ready to go?”
    We’d been spending our afternoons in a classroom at the Language Arts building.
    It was private and warm, and it only cost me a couple of Early Birds to get Grohl to cough up the information. I should have gone to him right away, because this place worked. I could feel Brenda becoming more and more relaxed, and I got to touch her and she touched me back. It’s all I could think about. I tried to pull her along, on the road behind the dining hall, but she wouldn’t budge that day.
    “Was Mr. Wright talking about those boys?”
    “What boys?”
    “The wrestlers.”
    Brenda had heard about what happened. Everyone had heard. And even though I wasn’t happy about it, I wasn’t complaining either, because it was after she’d heard that things had started happening between us in the Language Arts building. I’d take that trade any day. Hell, they could have hung me from the chapel by my undies if it got me closer to Brenda. The bad thing was that she had gotten kind of obsessed with the whole rigamarole regarding the shoes and the wrestlers and my roommate, who still didn’t talk to many people, or even come out of the room that much.
    “I’m worried,” she said. “Kyle Chester is in my math class, and he