Condemned

  CONDEMNED

  evil is in the eye of the beholder

  Christopher Renna

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 Christopher Renna

  Cover design copyright © 2021 Christopher Renna

  Edited by Angela Houston. ahjoyediting.com

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Published by Christopher Renna

  North Syracuse, NY 13212

  Printed in United States of America.

  CONDEMNED

  Digital Ebook

  Print ISBN 978-0-578-85886-9

  LCCN 2021903259

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Condemned

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

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  ALSO BY CHRISTOPHER RENNA

  Darkness on the Horizon

  Before the Sun Rises

  The Butterfly House

  A Long Story Short (a collection)

  The Unspeakable Kind

  FORTHCOMING

  The Souvenir Game

  The Darkness Burns Within

  The Boy in My Shadow

  to Vicky

  for a friendship that knows no limits

  ONE

  "Jared Smith passed away."

  Those were the words that Miss Campbell, the English teacher, announced to the senior students at the beginning of first hour. Her expression appeared as a mix of somber sympathy and restrained indifference as if she didn't know which emotion to express. Although, her perpetually relaxed eyes and mouth rarely provided students a hint at her true mood anyway. She could return a low-graded essay to a student with a few spoken words, and the student would ponder whether she'd offered encouragement or guarded disappointment.

  The room reacted with a mix of gasps, a few exclamations, and dazed silence.

  "He passed away Saturday night," she continued. "There will be a few extra counselors at school in case anyone needs—"

  "How'd he die?"

  Conner Preston's eyes strayed from Miss Campbell to Adam, the boy who'd asked the question.

  Since kindergarten, Adam Wheeler had always been the most vocal kid in class. So, it was no surprise that he was the first to ask.

  "I don't know," the mildly gray-haired Miss Campbell said. "Perhaps his family will release more details. Until then, I suggest everyone give the family some privacy during this difficult time."

  She approached Allison Jones, who sat quietly crying at her desk near the front of the class. Gently rubbing Allison's shoulder as she passed, Miss Campbell said, "I know some of you will want to attend the funeral. When that information is available, I'm sure the school will let you know."

  Conner glanced over his shoulder to Trevor Helms. Their eyes met for only a moment, but it was long enough for Conner to interpret Trevor's silent message. What the hell, man?

  At the front of the class again, Miss Campbell said, "I'm not sure if we should begin our lesson as we normally would, or if we should work quietly as individuals."

  Allison muffled a sob.

  "Quietly as individuals," Adam called out.

  Miss Campbell sucked in her bottom lip as if to control a show of disapproval. "Fine. Open your textbooks to chapter eight. I suspect some of you didn't read the assigned section on correlatives."

  She returned to Allison's desk. "Do you need to visit a counselor?"

  With the shake of her head, Allison said, "No. I'm fine. It's just"—she flicked her wavy, dark brunette locks from her face—I've never known a kid that died before."

  "Ah, I understand." She patted Allison's hand. "I'm sure there are a lot of students upset by the news."

  A guy in the back of the class muttered, "He was a freak anyway."

  In the suburb of Newman, Connecticut nearly all the students had grown up together. Jared Smith's family had moved to town during the second grade. He'd made friends easily and had quickly become part of the popular group. It was a role he'd maintained until the summer before senior year.

  On the first day back to school, Jared was noticeably different from his usual friendly, outgoing self. He was moody and withdrawn. He shunned people and avoided the social circle he'd once been a prominent member of. In fact, he acted as if he didn't want friends at all, opting to alienate himself from everyone at school.

  A few weeks had passed when Jared was caught fighting with a boy in the hall. Likely, he would only have received detention if he hadn't punched the other guy in the face. As a result, he was suspended for three days. And when he returned to school, his attitude seemed even worse.

  Jared was suspended again the following month after throwing a book at a teacher's head. Two weeks later, he was formally expelled for breaking the History teacher's thumb during an argument. No one knew what had triggered Jared's change in personality. It was a mystery that even his younger sister, Leah, seemed at a loss to explain. After his expulsion, she avoided the topic altogether. Now, a month later, he was dead.

  At the end of class, Conner slung his backpack onto his shoulder and waited for Trevor. They walked out of the room silently. In the hall, Trevor spoke first. "Yo. It's fing-cray about Jared, right?"

  "Yeah. I mean, it's weird, man. I don't know what to think."

  "He was on the decline. Moody as hell before he was kicked out of school. Something was off."

  "We already knew that. I was talking about the fact that he's dead."

  Maneuvering his way through the crowded hall, Trevor pivoted and then walked backward. "Think he committed suicide?"

  "Dude, I don't know." Conner motioned to the door leading into the gym. "Until he started getting into trouble and acting all crazy, he was our best friend. But I feel like I don't know anything about him anymore."

  Trevor looked like he was going to say something, but he nudged Conner in the side instead. They were good friends akin to brothers. Sometimes words weren't needed between the two, and it had been that way since first grade. They had gravitated to each other's awkward outsider reputation. Conner, the shortest and skinniest boy in class and Trevor, the only kid with an African American mother and Caucasian father. Now, both were tall, lean, and muscular young men considered two of the best looking and most popular boys in school.

  A body collided into them from behind, sending them staggering forward.

  Conner spun around. "What the hell, man?"

  Smirking, Adam slapped Conner and Trevor each on the stomach. "Caught ya off guard."

  Lurching forward, Trevor swung his fist into Adam's shoulder.

  "Ow, man. Go easy," Adam hollered as he rubbed his arm. "We got a game Thursday. Don't damage the goods."

  Rushing down the concrete steps into the boys' locker room, the three approached a couple sophomores.

  "Move aside, runts," Trevor announced.

  The two younger boys
stepped closer to the wall with annoyed expressions rather than the expected fear of upperclassmen.

  At his gym locker, Conner dropped his backpack and then peeled off his T-shirt. "What do you think about Jared?"

  Adam kicked off his sneakers. "It's effing crazy, man."

  "No." Trevor groaned with slight irritation. "It's fing-cray."

  "Fing-cray?" Adam stood with one leg in his jeans and one leg out. "Where'd you get that Asian slang from?"

  "Asian slang? Dude, seriously? You're going to pull some bigoted crap with an African American dude?"

  "Whatever, caramel-bro. I'll go fing-cray on your ass, real quick."

  Conner slipped his gym shorts on as Trevor and Adam jabbed at each other. Then he pulled a tank top over his head. "Jared's dead."

  The laughter abruptly stopped, and Adam appeared unnerved. "I don't know what to think about that. He was our buddy until—"

  "He went off the deep end," Trevor finished.

  Adam tousled his dark brown hair. "I kinda wanna know what happened. But there's a part of me that's like, just leave it."

  Sitting on the bench, Conner said, "Even though he wasn't our friend in the end, I still feel bad for his sister and parents."

  None of them spoke while the noise of clattering metal doors and voices filled the locker room. Then Trevor sat. "You think we should stop by his house?"

  "I don't know."

  "It would be kinda weird," Adam said. "They might be pissed that we didn't come around during the summer when Jared started acting crazy. And now we knock on their door?"

  "Let's just wait and see if we hear anything else," Trevor said. "Then we'll decide if we should stop by."

  In agreement, the three continued to dress for class and then rushed to the gym before the teacher blew his whistle.

  * * *

  Jared's death continued as the popular topic of discussion throughout the morning. No one knew what had caused his death, nor did anybody know whether he'd been sick or not. Leah had never hinted that her brother was experiencing health issues. Yet it was pointed out by many that she hadn't attended school the previous Thursday or Friday. Then, Jared died over the weekend, and she obviously wasn't at school on Monday or today.

  Conner set his tray of food onto the table and then sat. Adam and Trevor arrived moments later, chatting about the upcoming basketball game Thursday night.

  Looking from one end of the cafeteria to the other, Conner noted that everyone was carrying on as usual. "I thought maybe I'd see more sad faces or something."

  "Really?" Adam asked before spooning pasta into his mouth. "A lot of people aren't sad, because he stopped being friends with them. It's not nice to say, but it's true."

  Trevor agreed. "I'm like low-level sad. I probably would have cried or something when Miss Campbell told us. But I was more shocked than anything."

  "Yeah, you're right," Conner muttered. "The only person I saw crying was Allison, and she wasn't even friends with him."

  "My mom texted," Adam said. "She said I could go home."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "If the office didn't excuse it, then it would be on my transcript. My parents would be pissed if I screwed up my chances with college."

  Trevor nudged Conner in the ribs. "Hey, stud, here comes Hailey."

  Conner ribbed him back. "Knock it off."

  Hailey Brooks headed their direction with her constant companion, Jasmine, and another friend of theirs, Miguel. All smiles and shining, shoulder-length blonde hair, she was one of the prettiest girls in the senior class. Sitting, Hailey purred, "Hey, boys."

  "What's up?" Adam replied, sliding over so Jasmine could sit between him and Trevor.

  "What's up?" she repeated with a trace of amused surprise. "How are you guys doing? You guys were really good friends with Jared."

  "We're fine," Conner replied.

  She set her hand on his and looked into his blue eyes. "I'm so glad. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

  Trevor chuckled, and she shot him a disapproving look.

  Conner dropped his foot on top of Trevor's, pressing down hard and causing Trevor to flinch with a subdued grunt.

  She searched inside her pink purse. "If any of you need to talk—"

  "That's what the counselors are for," Adam replied. "But I'm fine. How about you, Trevor?"

  "All good."

  "What about you, Conner? You need a helping hand?"

  Trevor chuckled again.

  Conner shot Adam a dirty look. Now everyone at the table was thinking about the night Hailey had given Conner a thirty-second hand job until she freaked out and explained that despite her occasional slutty clothes and flirtatious manner, she was a good Christian girl. Then she'd demanded to go home.

  "A listening ear," Hailey stressed. "You're so gross."

  "What?" Adam grinned. "What do you mean?"

  Miguel blurted, "Ready for the big game, Thursday?"

  "Hell yeah," Adam boomed. "We're gonna kick their asses."

  "Lancaster's had a really good season so far."

  "You gonna be there to cheer us on?"

  "Maybe if Levi wants to go," Miguel replied. "He has a wrestling match on Friday."

  "You guys dating now?"

  "Ha," Jasmine scoffed. "More like hooking up."

  Tuning out the voices at the table, Conner watched Hailey. She gazed into a compact mirror, applying lip gloss as an obvious ruse to avoid the discussion taking place. When she finally glanced at him, she smiled faintly and then turned her attention to her salad.

  Trevor's laughter yanked Conner out of his daze.

  "He do a screwlock and pin you to the bed?" Trevor teased.

  "I wasn't putting up a fight," Miguel replied.

  The table hooted with laughter again.

  "Are you doing okay?" Hailey asked Conner.

  "Yeah. I'm all right."

  "You didn't know anything bad was going on with Jared?"

  "No. Why? Did you hear something?"

  She shook her head. "My sister said Leah seemed out of it the last couple weeks."

  "What did she mean by that?"

  "I guess she was exhausted. Didn't seem too happy. I'm not sure."

  "If Jared was sick, it's weird that no one mentioned anything. You know? You'd think his parents or sister would have said something to someone. I mean . . . jeez, if he was dying."

  "Some people think he committed suicide."

  "I heard a few people say that too."

  "Do you think he did?"

  Shrugging, he replied, "I have no idea."

  He thought of his last one-on-one interaction with Jared several weeks earlier. Conner had rushed to the restroom from Biology II class. The moment he entered, he instantly froze at the sight of Jared gripping the edge of a white porcelain sink and staring at himself in the splotchy mirror. His face was thin, pale, and damp with sweat. Strands of his dark hair stuck out here and there at odd angles.

  "Oh, hey," Conner said.

  Jared seemed so transfixed by his reflection that he didn't respond.

  "You okay?" Conner stepped closer. "What's wrong, man?"

  For a few seconds, Jared remained focused on his reflection, then his eyes shifted to Conner in the mirror. Teary-eyed, he regarded Conner with contempt.

  The look made Conner uncomfortable. "My bladder is about to explode. I gotta piss," he said and then hurried to the wall of urinals.

  Once he returned to the row of sinks, he was surprised to see Jared still stationary, staring at his reflection.

  As Conner washed his hands, he said, "Are you sure you don't need help with something? You need to talk?"

  The fluorescent lighting did little to conceal the puffy, darkened skin under Jared's eyes. With tears rolling down his cheeks, Jared clenched his teeth. "Please. Leave. Me. Alone."

  Conner reached for Jared's shoulder, but Jared slapped his hand away and growled, "No!"

  Startled, Conner slinked back. "Sorry, man. I'm going."
>
  He paused at the door, contemplating a return to Jared's side, but he decided against it. Before the door swung closed, he heard Jared cry, "Why are you doing this to me?"

  * * *

  After basketball practice, Trevor drove Conner and Adam home in his white Toyota Camry. Parked at the curb in front of Conner's house, he said, "Let me know if you guys want to do something later."

  "Nah. I have that damn essay to write," Conner replied, getting out of the car. "I need this paper to raise my A."

  Adam shut the back door and then leaned inside the passenger window. "I might watch a movie later. Maybe I can convince my mom to order pizza for dinner if you wanna come over."

  "Cool, I'm down," Trevor replied. "I'll text you."

  "Yep." As Trevor drove away, Adam asked, "You sure you don't wanna hang later?"

  Conner shrugged. "If I get the essay done, I'll let you know."

  "Okay." Adam jogged across the street to his house. From his porch, he yelled, "You really gonna write that essay or are you just bummed out about Jared?"

  Turning, Conner thought a moment, then shouted, "Both."

  "I hear ya."

  Inside, Conner dropped his backpack next to the front door and then walked to the kitchen. His thirteen-year-old brother, Mason, stood by the stove. Dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top, he resembled Conner at that age. A lean frame with muscles finally starting to develop. Blue eyes. Short, dirty-blond hair in need of a trim.

  Mason poured a glass of juice as Conner sat at the kitchen table.

  "How was school?" Conner asked.

  "Eh. Okay." Mason sat. His eyes focused on an olive-green fabric placemat. "Sorry to hear about Jared."

  Conner sucked in air. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

  "So? You know what happened?"

  "Nope."

  "You weren't friends with him anymore, right?"

  "Not really." Conner crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. "Are Mom and Dad home?"

  "Mom's upstairs." He glanced at the oversized clock on the wall. "Dad's probably on his way home."

  Conner grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge. "I got homework."

  The moment Conner stepped onto the stairs, his mother appeared on the landing above. Still dressed in business attire, not a single blonde hair was out of place.

  "Hi, honey," she said. "I heard about Jared. How are you doing?"