Condemned Page 3

  She scanned the classroom. "Looks like everyone's on time. Great. No tardy arrivals."

  Conner slipped his essay, The Effects of Steroid Use in Athletes, out of his backpack. Once she'd retrieved the paper from him, he relaxed in his seat and opened his textbook to the section on correlatives and interjections.

  "There will be no school announcement regarding Jared Smith's funeral," she said. "But the teachers were asked to inform senior students of his parents' wishes. Since you're all seniors, I have the duty of informing you that his parents have decided to have a private service. So, there will be no school transportation, nor will there be any excused absences for the funeral."

  Conner glanced at Trevor. Trevor glanced at Adam. Then Adam exclaimed, "What?"

  Miss Campbell tsked. "Mr. Wheeler, control your tone."

  "They don't want his friends to be at the funeral?"

  "I think it would be in everyone's best interest to honor his parents' wishes. I'm sure they're going through a really tough time right now."

  Adam slouched in his seat and sighed. "Whatever."

  "Why would you?" a boy asked.

  The students turned in their seats and looked at Steve Croft.

  "Jared didn't have friends," he continued. "He was like mentally losing it. He probably wouldn't want any of us there anyway."

  Allison huffed. "We've known him our whole life."

  "Since second grade," another girl added.

  "Not before he died," Steve emphasized, as if reminding everyone of something they had forgotten. "We all knew him before—"

  Miss Campbell clapped her hands together. "This isn't the time or place to be discussing this. You guys can have this debate another time. Right now, I'd like to begin class."

  Adam shook his head. "Well, I don't think—"

  "Mr. Wheeler, the discussion is over. Everyone, open your books to page ninety-six."

  * * *

  "That pisses me off," Trevor said on their way to the gym.

  Conner and Adam both agreed.

  "I kinda didn't want to go," he said. "But now I feel like going just because we're not supposed to."

  "Me too," Adam said. "But we need to find out when the funeral is. How are we gonna do that?"

  "Duh. Kayla probably knows," Conner said. "You can text her."

  Adam pulled his phone out of his pocket and rapidly typed a message. "You know she has a thing for me."

  Trevor laughed. "Whatever, man."

  "I'm serious. Last night she mentioned hanging out."

  "She did not."

  "Uh, huh. When she was leaving and I walked her to the door."

  "If you say so."

  "Trust me. I'm gonna get—"

  "Who cares," Conner said more loudly than intended. "Let's stay focused on the funeral at the moment. Not Kayla."

  "What's to focus on?" Trevor asked. "We don't know nothing until she texts back."

  Short of the locker room, Conner stopped and faced his friends. "All right. So, we've decided that we're definitely going to go to the funeral, right?"

  Trevor and Adam both nodded.

  "It's probably soon." He locked eyes with Adam. "That means we might be skipping school."

  "I know. One unexcused absence won't kill me. I mean, I don't think it will. Right?"

  Conner chuckled. "You're so paranoid."

  Trevor draped his arm around Adam's shoulders. "Dude, you're the star basketball player. Skipping school one day isn't going to matter to the recruiters already kissing your ass. Toughen up, man."

  Adam tugged Conner by the shirt and hooked his arm around Conner's neck, pulling him close. "Fine. I won't worry about skipping school. We're in this together. Always and forever."

  At their lockers, Trevor leaned against the metal door. "You know, we should have kept that promise with Jared too."

  Conner sat on the bench and hung his head. "Guess we let him down, huh?"

  "Yep," Adam muttered. "But we didn't turn against him. He turned against us."

  "We're doing the right thing," Trevor said. "It won't make up for not being friends anymore. But we'll be there for him."

  The gym teacher, Mr. Chambers, appeared at their sides. Legs spread in a wide stance, he dropped his hands to his hips and exhaled as if annoyed. "Let's hustle, boys. You ain't even undressed yet, and most of the other guys are already headed to the gym. We're lifting weights today. Better get your asses in gear."

  The boys whipped off their shirts and started kicking off their shoes.

  "You might be the most popular studs in school," Mr. Chambers continued, "but if someone has the weights before you, you're going to wait your turn like everyone else."

  "Aye aye," Adam replied.

  "That's right!" Mr. Chambers bellowed and then walked off.

  Conner laughed as he slipped into a pair of gym shorts. "Like we're going to wait in line."

  Fresh out of the shower, Adam tossed his wet towel into his locker. "Oh. Hey. Got a text from Kayla." He tugged on his briefs and then sat on the bench. Tapping on the screen, he said, "She said the funeral is Friday morning at ten o'clock. There's gonna be a really short service at the church. Then he's gonna be buried at Trinity Cemetery. I don't know where that is. Do you guys know?"

  "My grandpa is buried there," Trevor said. "It's not that far. It's like five miles away."

  "Really?" Adam asked, apparently surprised by the information.

  "Jeez, man," Conner uttered. "We drive by it almost every time we go to away games."

  "Oh." He shook out his jeans, then slid a leg into the denim. "If it was called Newman Cemetery, I'd probably know exactly where it was. Why's it called Trinity?"

  "Not all cemeteries are named after the town they're in," Trevor said. "It's probably named after the Holy Trinity."

  Adam raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

  "The Father," Conner said, "the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

  "Oh, yeah. Okay. Yeah, I knew that."

  Trevor shoved his foot into his sneaker. "Which reminds me. Are we really going to try to talk to a priest?"

  "Don't know," Conner said. "Maybe we won't have to."

  "Yeah, right! Like his parents are just going to tell us the whole freaky story."

  Conner snatched his backpack from the locker and dropped it at his feet. "I don't think anyone would want to tell us that story. Seriously, think about it, guys. We're talking about the devil and possession and strange, creepy crap like that. Would you just tell anyone a story like that even if it was true?"

  The school bell rang.

  "Crap. Gonna be late." Adam slammed his locker shut and then jumped over the bench. "See you guys at lunch."

  Conner watched Adam zigzag past a few guys and out of the locker room. He turned toward Trevor. "I don't know what we're going to find out about Jared. Maybe nothing. But I want to try."

  As Conner headed to his next class, he thought of Jared's parents. Surely, they would be glad to see him, Trevor, and Adam at the funeral. Mr. Smith would shake their hands firmly. And despite her grief, Mrs. Smith would offer a half-hearted smile and gently hug them. Then Conner would tell Mr. Smith how much Jared enjoyed watching reruns of Frasier because he liked to watch his dad laugh, even though Jared didn't always understand the humor. Trevor would tell Mrs. Smith how Jared always smiled when he smelled lasagna or freshly baked bread or toffee pudding because it reminded him of his mother. And Adam would tell them what a great friend Jared had been—of course, failing to mention the details of the past five months when Jared had ignored them as if they hadn't been friends since the second grade.

  * * *

  The day continued as usual. All talk of Jared's death had dwindled to brief comments slipped into conversations about school, sports, and other unrelated topics. However, at the end of the day, Jared's name had returned to the lips of the boys' teammates.

  As the three walked to Trevor's car, they caught sight of Scott Reed dashing toward them across the parking lot. "Do you guys know
if it's true?"

  They stopped in their tracks and looked at their lanky power guard.

  "What?" Conner asked with an exhale.

  Scott narrowed his eyes. "Someone said that Jared was possessed by a demon."

  Exasperated, Adam replied, "Shut the hell up, Scott."

  "I'm serious. I just got a text from Eric."

  "Which Eric?"

  "Eric Hughes"

  "How the hell would he know?" Trevor asked. "And we don't know nothing about that."

  Evidently, the possibility that Jared died under extraordinary and sinister circumstances had generated renewed curiosity. At that moment, Conner understood that Jared's death would once again be the popular topic at school the next day. Increasing remorse pulsated stronger with each beat of his heart. He didn't want Jared's memory to be scarred by spooky stories about his alleged condition.

  "You don't really believe in that crap, do you?" he asked Scott.

  "I don't know. But it would be hella extra if it were true."

  "What?!" Adam exclaimed. "For real?"

  "I'm just saying."

  "You're talking crap," Conner said. "You don't know anything about it. We don't know anything about it."

  "So you guys really don't know nothing?"

  "No," Trevor replied. "How would we? How would anyone? You know how Jared was before he got kicked outta school. I seriously doubt anyone knows the true tea."

  "Yo, I'm just asking." Scott followed the three to Trevor's Camry. "The four of you guys used to be really close, like fam. I thought you'd know something."

  "We don't," Adam said. "And dude, it's really effed up that you're talking crap about him. He's dead."

  "I'm not talking crap. I was asking a question. But I guess it's a stupid rumor."

  "Duh," Conner said. "I bet someone made up the story 'cause of the way he was acting."

  Scott lingered as the three got into the car. "Yeah, you're probably right. Guess I'll see you guys at school tomorrow."

  Trevor reversed the car then braked and powered down the window. "Hey, Scott!"

  Their teammate turned. "Yeah?"

  "Who else did Eric tell that story to?"

  Scott looked at them in disbelief. "Everyone."

  THREE

  Trevor cruised out of the parking lot, but once he hit the street, he sped away like he was running late for an appointment. "This is fing-cray. What the hell, man? Are we going to keep playing stupid tomorrow when everyone is talking about demons?"

  Conner glanced at Adam in the back seat, who simply shrugged in response. Looking at Trevor, he said, "We don't have control over the situation. People are going to talk whether we want them to or not."

  They drove for a couple of blocks before Adam said, "I'm starting to wonder what the hell we're doing."

  "What do you mean?" Conner asked.

  "I mean, if we just heard these stories at school, I'd probably laugh and call people stupid. But now . . ."

  "Now, what?"

  "After Kayla told us that her aunt talked to the priest . . ."

  Trevor stopped at a red light. "You believe it, then?"

  "Maybe we should just convince everyone that it's a stupid rumor. And then people will stop talking about it, and everyone will forget all about it."

  Driving again, Trevor said, "Look, the next couple days the kids at school are all going to be talking about possession and all that crap. But if we go to the funeral, they'll believe we got the truth from his parents."

  "You think they'd believe us?"

  "If people know we went to the funeral, then yeah, I think they might."

  "Maybe," Conner said. When Trevor turned left onto Cottage Drive, he suspected the intended destination, but he asked, "Where are you going?"

  "Where do you think?"

  Adam drew in a deep breath and leaned forward to situate himself closer between Conner and Trevor. "But . . . what . . .?"

  "But what?" Trevor asked as he slowed the car and then parked in front of the Smiths' house.

  They stared at the white two-story, upper-middle-class suburban home. There were no lights on inside. And there were no cars in the driveway.

  "I guess they did move away," Conner said. "It looks empty."

  "Maybe no one's home," Adam said.

  Trevor pointed at the porch. "Those two flowerpots are gone. And you know Mrs. Smith would still have pumpkins and Indian corncobs on the porch until after Thanksgiving. Plus, look by the garage."

  "Oh, yeah," Adam replied. "That tall metal pole with the wind chime isn't there."

  "Yeah, they moved." Conner peered at the house. The setting sun was casting shadows on the exterior of the house. Now it appeared creepy rather than inviting. "The house looks—"

  "Haunted," Trevor said.

  "It definitely looks kinda scary," Adam said. "Um. You know, I saw a freaky thing happen in there."

  Conner and Trevor both looked at Adam.

  "It was kinda scary then. It's a lot scarier now."

  "What are you talking about?" Conner asked.

  "I didn't tell you guys 'cause it was weird and it freaked me out. And it was about the time that Jared stopped being our friend. So I just didn't say anything."

  "You can tell us now," Trevor said.

  Hesitant, Adam cast his gaze to the house, then to his best friends again. "Okay. Whatever you guys think, you think. I'm just gonna tell you anyway."

  "Dude, we're brothers. You can tell us anything. No matter how crazy it sounds."

  "You guys remember when Jared messed up his hand, and it was all bandaged for like a week?"

  "Uh, huh," Conner mumbled. "What about it?"

  "That was the weekend his dad told him to fix the fence in the backyard. Remember? We were all gonna help him, but you guys went to Trevor's family reunion or whatever."

  "Oh, yeah," Trevor said. "You two said he cut his hand on a nail."

  "He did. But that's not the whole story. I left out the freaky part."

  Smoothing his hair, Adam blinked his hazel eyes as if working up the nerve to talk. By habit, he always seemed to ponder his words before saying something important. It was as though he feared losing his train of thought or possibly saying something stupid.

  "So, anyway, I went over to his house. Uh, this house. We pulled apart the old fencing and started putting up the new pieces. We got most of it done. And he seemed fine. I mean, basically his usual self. Except he was getting frustrated when things didn't go right with the fence. Nothing major. But I totally thought he was overreacting.

  "He was trying to yank an old piece of wood off, and he lost his balance and that's when the nail tore his hand up. Deep too, man. I told him that he might need stitches. But he said he was fine.

  "We went inside to cool off while he cleaned up his hand. I was hanging in the kitchen, checking my socials and stuff. He was taking a long time, so I went to the bathroom to ask what the hell was taking so long. But when I got to the door . . ."

  Of course, as always, Adam paused. Not for dramatic effect. Not for lack of words. He needed his buddies to encourage him.

  "Go on," Conner said.

  He glanced at the house and then practically wedged his torso between the two front seats. "I heard the water running. The door wasn't closed all the way. I almost walked in, but I saw him standing in front of the mirror. Just staring at himself. And he had blood smeared on his face."

  Trevor exclaimed, "What!"

  "Yeah. He had blood all around his mouth. He looked like a deranged person with smeared lipstick all over. And he was just staring at the mirror. The look in his eyes freaked me out, so I sneaked back to the kitchen and yelled that I was going home because my mom texted me for something."

  Conner listened to the hum of the engine and then asked, "He didn't see you?"

  "No."

  "Didn't say anything?" Trevor asked.

  "He was totally zoned out. And he'd already been acting kinda weird. Well, not weird. He was irritated. So, I didn
't wanna say or ask anything. He seemed really out of it. I didn't wanna hear anything he had to say about it. I was already too freaked out."

  Trevor shifted his position, ran his hand along the steering wheel, and then cleared his throat. "That would have freaked me out too."

  Conner agreed. He took a deep breath and forcefully exhaled. "Um, I have a freaky story."

  He proceeded to tell them about his interaction with Jared in the boys' restroom. When he was finished, he stared at the dashboard, waiting for Trevor and Adam to speak. But neither uttered a word.

  Conner's eyes swept from Trevor to Adam. "No comment?"

  Finally, Trevor said, "Maybe he was schizophrenic or bipolar or something like that. Maybe this demon crap is stupid talk because Jared was having like a mental breakdown or something."

  "You think?" Adam asked.

  Trevor shrugged. "It's possible."

  "Wait a sec," Conner said. "So, you never had a freaky thing happen while you were with Jared? Only me and Adam did?"

  "I never said that."

  "Then you do have a story."

  "I don't want to talk about it right now."

  "We just told you ours. But you don't want to tell us yours?"

  "Yeah, c'mon," Adam said. "Lay it on us."

  Trevor shifted the car then pulled away from the curb. He drove to the end of the block before speaking. "Okay. Jared totally creeped me out once. And I didn't tell you guys because we weren't really hanging out with him anymore. I figured, what's the point, you know? You guys thought the same thing after your experience."

  Conner and Adam responded with a unified "uh, huh."

  "For a while, I thought maybe I imagined it, but now I'm pretty sure that I didn't."

  "Imagined what?" Conner asked.

  "I think it was like a week or so after Adam's experience. Jared and I were shooting hoops at my house. Then we hung out a while on the patio. I don't remember who started it, but we started wrestling around. You know, trying to one-up the other. Anyway, he pinned me to the ground. His hands were cold as ice."

  He quickly glanced at his friends before directing his sight back to the road. "Like seriously freezing. I mean, it actually hurt a little bit because his grip felt so cold on my arms. So, I was like yelling 'stop, get off me,' and when I . . . I swear to God, his irises were all black. Like totally blacked out. Scared the hell outta me, and I yelled 'Jesus!' Then his hands were suddenly warm again and his eyes were normal."