Chapter Twenty-One
Bas’s first day back from spring break had begun with a bang. He’d arrived at school early to find both his and Adam’s lockers vandalized. The camera pointing toward the lockers had its lens sprayed black. He sighed and made his way to the office to report the incident. Since janitors cleaned over the weekend, it had probably been done this morning. He was so glad he only had two months left of school before he’d finally be free of these childish pranks.
The red paint was all too familiar, as were the misspelled angry words. Whoever had vandalized his garage was apparently also a student at Northern. He wondered if Nate or Hank had an alibi for both events. While Nate was being kept on a tight leash by the school for his attack on Adam, Bas almost never saw Hank anymore. He knew the ex-football player hadn’t officially dropped out yet, though he’d been expelled. He still lived nearby and hung out with Nate, but was not allowed on campus.
“Good morning, Sebastian,” Mrs. Willcox greeted him in the office. She was a nice lady who wore nothing but muumuus and handled the logging of all visitors.
“I need to report some vandalism. Adam’s and my lockers have been spray-painted with profanity, and it looks like the camera was busted. I didn’t open my locker to see if there was damage inside.” Bas leaned against the counter. “Do you want me to call the police?”
Mrs. Willcox frowned.
“Let me call the principal and the janitor. Is Mr. Corbin in yet?”
“No. I can send him a text to come to the office and not to his locker. I really don’t want him to see that.” It was fine if people attacked him, called him a fag or whatever, and threw glitter and pink paint on him. Bas could handle it; he’d experienced worse. But no one hurt his best friend.
Mrs. Willcox got on the phone and began calling people. Bas checked the time and figured that Adam would probably be done running since it was almost seven. He dialed his friend instead of texting. Some things were just not meant to be said through a text.
Adam picked up, a bit breathless, on the fourth ring.
“Hey, Bas. What’s up?”
“I need you to come straight to the office this morning. No stopping at your locker. Do not pass go or collect two hundred dollars. Just follow the straightest line to the queerest boy in school, ’kay?”
“Okay, but I need my chem book for first period. We have an open-book test.”
“Anything in the actual book you need or just a copy of it?”
“I take my notes and folders home. The book is all I need.”
“’Kay. I will get you a copy. But come straight to the office.”
“Okay, okay. We’re leaving the community center now.” Adam paused, then said, “Don’t think I don’t know you’re hiding something from me. Did someone mess with my locker again? Do you think it’s Nate or Hank?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. But it’s nothing you need to see.”
“You insist on taking the brunt of everything. I’m your friend. You’re supposed to share.” Another pause. “Ru’s gonna walk me to the office. Should my dad come?”
“The school will call if they need him. You know if you bring your boy toy into school, you’ll cause a riot. Is he even awake yet? It’s long before noon.”
“I heard that,” Ru said in the background.
“Love you, sweets!” Bas told him.
“See you in five,” Adam said and hung up.
“Well that was rude,” Bas muttered. The principal had arrived while he was on the phone and was talking to Mrs. Willcox. Bas was betting the man would be thrilled when Bas finally graduated and was out of his hair. He approached the pair slowly, giving them fair warning in case they had grown-up speak they needed to convey before he was within earshot. He’d been brushed aside too many times not to know he’d have to force the issue.
“I need a copy of the advanced chem book for Adam’s first period.” Bas had math but left his calculus book in the library since he was always tutoring people there. He had refused to bring any books home over spring break. But he’d also been smart enough to complete all his homework before the break began.
“The janitor is on the way to open the lockers now. If the books are undamaged, we’ll have them all removed,” Principal O’Brien said.
“Shouldn’t you let the police look at them first? In case there’s evidence?” Bas asked.
“It’s just vandalism. Happens all the time.”
“Repeatedly to Adam and me. My grandmother’s garage was spray-painted with some of the very same things just last week. Maybe it needs a little more than a janitor’s intervention.” Bas folded his arms across his chest, ready for the argument. O’Brien had been putting him off for a while, enforcing minor rules to make up for the lack of the big ones. He’d moved both Adam and Bas’s locker close to the teacher’s lounge to deter vandalism, while making them a more obvious target.
“I really don’t think this merits a visit from the police.”
