Even Thistles Bloom, page 6
Todd doubted the local police force would bug a teenager’s car, but he didn’t have the energy to object. He slumped against the library wall and prepared himself for a long, frigid night. Looks like I’m faking sick tomorrow after all.
Todd dragged himself into art. He’d tried to sleep yesterday, but his mother had spent the day screaming four-letter words through the phone. Her banker would need hearing aids after that conversation.
“Look who’s back,” Minh said.
Todd dropped into his seat and gestured to Cathryn. “Sorry.”
“Sorry about what?” Cathryn asked. Todd squinted at her, but her face showed genuine confusion. She must not have been watching us. He blinked his bleary eyes clear. Was it just him, or was she wearing a lot more makeup than usual? Cathryn hadn’t struck him as the Tina Lockard of the sophomore class, but maybe she was trying to burst free from her shy-girl cocoon.
Oliver instructed them to draw the next phase of evolution. Todd drew a stick figure of a guy with his eyes wide open, figuring he could say humans would evolve beyond the need for sleep. His thirty-second art project complete, he focused his energy on the upcoming economics class.
“How do you talk to a girl who’s mad at you?”
“In the doghouse already?” Minh said as she added a cybernetic arm to the humanoid figure she was drawing.
“I’d advise an apology,” Cathryn said.
“A little groveling never hurts either,” Minh added.
“I don’t grovel,” Todd said.
Minh shrugged. “Your funeral.”
Todd leaned his forehead against the table. Missing two class periods shouldn’t be enough for him to lose his chance with Claire, should it?
“If I were to grovel, hypothetically, what’s the best method?”
“You don’t have to grovel,” Cathryn said before Minh could answer. She, like Todd, had drawn a simple human figure and stopped. “Just be sincere about your apology.”
“Yeah, but the apology only gets you out of the pit,” Minh countered. “You’ll need more than smooth talking to get invited to the penthouse.”
“Like what?”
“Doing her favors, bribing her with gifts, planning a date…” Minh tapped her lower lip with her pen. “Whatever you do, don’t start your apology with a compliment.”
“Why not?”
Cathryn looked up from the book she’d buried herself in. “It will come across as trying to buy her forgiveness. Also, follow Benjamin Franklin’s advice: ‘Never ruin an apology with an excuse.’”
“Why are girls so complicated?”
Oliver reached their table before the girls could answer. He gushed over Minh’s kickass robot chick and told Todd humans had already developed the ability not to sleep. Apparently, the teacher was a caffeine addict.
Oliver frowned at Cathryn’s drawing. “That doesn’t look very evolved.”
“The next most likely evolutionary developments are things like an increased ability to multitask or greater resistance to blue light from screens,” Cathryn said. “Nothing much will change to humans’ exteriors. The idea that an increase in interracial marriages will lead to more people having beige skin tones represents a misunderstanding of the complex genetic factors determining—”
“Cathryn.” Oliver closed his eyes and touched his pointer fingers to his thumbs. He stayed that way until the silence grew awkward. Cathryn looked at Minh, who shrugged.
He opened his eyes with a gasp. “In our next class, I want you to go wild, break all the rules. Break the very laws of physics!” He threw a fist to the ceiling and transitioned to the next table, leaving Cathryn confused.
Todd turned his drawing into a paper football, more to procrastinate crafting his apology than anything else. Minh held up her fingers in a goal post, and Todd shot it in, missing the days when he kicked real footballs. The bell rang, ending his procrastination. By the time he arrived, late, to economics, he was no closer to earning Claire’s forgiveness.
Mr. Patel lectured on supply and demand curves, something Adam had a better handle on than Todd. For a change, Todd wished the lecture would last longer, but Mr. Patel released the class to project work before Todd finalized his apology.
Todd turned to Claire. I’m sorry I ditched you for two days. I know this project is important to you, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.
“Uh, your hair looks nice.”
“It’s the same as always.” She spoke in that exaggerated way that had the dual effects of preventing her stutter and making her sound like she was explaining something to an idiot.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. If Cathryn and Minh were correct, he couldn’t apologize after a compliment. Maybe Claire would assume he’d been sick.
“I did some market research while you were gone,” she said, placing particular emphasis on the last words. Todd grimaced, but she didn’t accuse him directly. Instead, she showed him her notebook. “Land and overhead are expensive in the cities, and urban chicken coop laws are complicated. We may want to locate in a suburb.”
A loud knock silenced the class. Two uniformed police officers strolled into the room, an odd-looking pair. The white guy towered over Mr. Patel, but his Latina partner barely reached his shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Patel, but we’re looking for Todd Easdon,” the policewoman said, her voice deeper than her short stature suggested it would be.
Todd rose, his feet leaden. He looked at Claire, expecting an angry scowl, but she just wrote more notes, as if she’d expected to complete the project by herself. Her lack of faith in him hurt worse than her glares.
As Todd followed the cops to the office, his stomach roiled as if hungry wolves were tearing his hope parasite to shreds. Adam waited for them, leaning against the doorway.
“You won’t learn anything else from him. It’s like I said. We’ve never been to that house.”
“Go back to class,” the male officer said.
The two officers ushered Todd into the principal’s office, where Principal Evans offered his chair to the female officer and took a seat beside Todd. The male officer stood, looming near the desk with his muscled arms crossed over his chest. His badge labeled him Officer Johansen.
“Your buddies from across town already ratted you out,” the woman said—Officer Quintero, according to her name badge. “We know you were buying their products last night.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Todd said. Technically, Adam had been the shopper.
Quintero leaned her elbows on the desk. “They specifically mentioned a stocky white male with short fingers on his left hand, and a twin.”
“So?” Todd restrained a grimace as his voice rose to a squeak. He forced his nerves calm. “So a couple of guys have it out for us. Not like they’re the only ones.”
“We know it was you.”
“Do you?” Todd said, relying on Adam’s favorite fallback. “Did you see us there? No. You’re relying on a drug dealer’s testimony. Not exactly reliable.”
Principal Evans cleared his throat. “I know you’re on the honors track, Todd.”
Todd blinked, brain scrambling to figure out why the principal mentioned that. “Even more reason to trust my word over theirs.”
Principal Evans shook his head. “You have one foot on each path, but they’re heading in opposite directions. If you continue this way, you’ll tear yourself in two.” His eyes held no condemnation. Rather, he looked like a father giving advice to his son.
Todd bristled at the presumption. “It’s my life. Aren’t you teachers supposed to foster independence or some shit like that?”
“Independence means making your own decisions. You can choose honesty, or you can follow your brother, but you may not like where he’s leading you.”
The words hit like a battering ram. Claire had said something similar last year. Then, he’d chosen wrong, but what was the right decision now? Turn in his twin, the only person who cared about him? Not a chance.
Todd lifted his chin and met Officer Quintero’s eyes. “I wasn’t buying anything last night, and neither was Adam.”
Principal Evans stood. “Someday you’ll have to decide what kind of person you want to be, Todd.”
The officers escorted him out, and Todd’s stomach loosened, but it ratcheted tight again when he spotted Cathryn waiting in an office chair.
“Come on in,” Principal Evans said, gesturing for her to join them.
Todd’s pulse roared in his ears as she disappeared with the officers. He feigned a casual air as he strolled out of the office, but as soon as he shut the door behind him, he paced, feet echoing in the empty hallway.
She would tell. Of course she would tell. She was one of those goody two-shoes smart girls like Saafi. Not only would she tell, she’d give them a detailed record of Todd’s visits to her neighbor’s garden, complete with the estimated height of the marijuana plants.
This is a disaster. All their careful planning ruined because of one shy girl with a conscience. What was the penalty for buying meth? Would the judge give him a warning, or would he spend the rest of high school in jail?
The bell rang, and students streamed out of their classrooms. Todd adjusted his pacing to weave around them, but made no moves toward his own third-period class. For once, passing time stretched too long. He thought he’d burn through his shoes before the halls finally fell silent again.
Cathryn emerged from the office, and Todd raced to her. He grabbed her shoulders, but she yelped and jerked away. She ducked out of his grasp and backed into the lockers across the hall, her chest heaving.
“Sorry.” Todd held up his hands as he would when approaching one of Noah’s rescue animals. “What did you say to them?”
Recovered from being startled, she scowled at him. “I know how to lie, Todd.”
“You didn’t rat us out?” A wave of relief pushed Todd against the lockers behind him. If he’d believed in God, he would have thanked him.
“No, but being good at lying doesn’t make it right,” she said, a pained tone in her voice.
“I’m sorry. We’ll be more careful. It won’t happen again.”
Cathryn shook her head and stormed off, leaving Todd drowning in guilt. If the police caught them, would she get in trouble for covering for them? Was that what TV shows meant by “obstruction of justice?” It was one thing to risk himself—he had nothing to lose—but he didn’t like the idea of hurting an innocent girl.
I need a smoke. The urge overwhelmed his senses, but his feet refused to carry him to the old wing. His pot smoking habit started this mess, and while he wasn’t ready to quit, he couldn’t bring himself to smoke right now. Neither could he go back to class. Instead, his feet took him home, past home, to the greenhouse.
Noah looked at him with surprise. “Don’t you have school today?”
“Nope. It’s a teacher training day.”
Noah accepted the lie with a smile and directed him to set up the heaters they would soon need. Todd’s guilt only increased. Lying to the cops barely tickled his conscience, but lying to the man who’d never wronged him? Principal Evans’s words echoed in his mind. Todd certainly felt as if he were heading in the wrong direction.
Todd lost himself in manual labor, grateful Noah left him to himself. He worked until his arms felt like they would fall off. Unwilling to go home yet, he collapsed against the brick wall adjoining the greenhouse to the office. Would Noah notice if I slept here?
Fifi skittered over to him and sniffed. As if she’d smelled his despondency, she hopped into his lap and rested her head on his leg. Todd petted her, feeling more love from the dog than he’d ever received from his mother. Noah told him Fifi’s previous owners were responsible for her missing eye and leg. Todd couldn’t imagine unloading that much hate onto an innocent puppy. There were some lines even he’d never cross.
Then again, hadn’t he already crossed them? What would happen to Cathryn if the police caught them? What had already happened to Old Man Caesar? At the very least, the police had harassed him. After that debacle, Todd doubted the old man would let him continue working his marijuana plot, but as he petted Fifi, he couldn’t muster any disappointment.
He didn’t need to grow marijuana to feed his smoking habit. He could find another source, and he could satisfy his green thumb helping Noah. No more risking innocent people.
His conclusion drove the anxiety from his body, and he drifted off to sleep.
Todd’s muscles ached worse than after football tryouts. He shifted, but a knot in his neck muscles restrained the movement. Wishing he were still unconscious, Todd opened his eyes.
He would have thought Noah and Mrs. Thompson would have sent him home, but someone had draped a homemade quilt over him. Todd’s chest ached at the tender gesture. His own mother wouldn’t have done that, not that he deserved the kindness.
He checked the time on his phone. The light filtering through the greenhouse had woken him early. He had plenty of time to run home and shower before school, assuming he wanted to return to school. Yes. Fatigue may have muddled yesterday’s thoughts, but they’d been genuine. He’d play it straight from now on, starting with an apology to Cathryn. And Claire.
Todd took his time walking home, enjoying the dawn of a new day. His mother and brother were still asleep, so he luxuriated in the shower long enough to soothe his sore muscles. With yesterday’s unpleasantness scrubbed clean, he felt like a new person, a better person.
“Where were you last night?” Adam greeted him with a cheeky grin.
“With a brunette.” The lie slipped past his lips without a thought. So much for playing it straight.
“Told ya you’d get over that redhead.” Adam’s grin widened as he pushed past him toward the shower. Guilt flashed through Todd for having drained the hot water, but he dismissed the feeling. Adam hadn’t harvested or helped with any other manual labor in their operation. Todd deserved a hot shower for his work.
If Adam was upset about his cold shower, he didn’t show it. He dropped Todd off at the side entrance before parking in their usual spot. Todd jimmied his way through the door, grateful he no longer had to endure his former teammates’ scorn as he entered the building. Their hatred ate away at him, though Adam fed off it. Sometimes Todd wondered if they were opposites rather than identical twins.
Todd strolled into art, barely on time despite his early start. Minh glared at him as if she’d evolved her cyber chick’s laser eyes.
“Decent Human Being Lesson Number Four: Don’t Do Illegal Shit.”
“What did he do?” Cathryn asked. The innocence in her tone brought Todd to a halt. She looked as if she genuinely had no idea what Minh was referencing; a performance so flawless, Todd wondered whether he’d imagined their conversation from yesterday. After he confirmed his memory, his gut twisted. Should he be taking lessons in decency from someone so skilled at lying?
“You need to pull your head out of your books, Cat,” Minh said, oblivious to her friend’s deception. “Todd here got away with selling meth, right under the police’s noses. Word is he has an oil drum full of pseudoephedrine hidden in his basement.”
“I’d have thought you were too smart to listen to gossip,” Todd said as he took his seat.
“That is gossip.” Minh pointed to the Gossip Girls, who giggled, ponytails wagging as they whispered. “I am well informed.”
“Misinformed.”
Oliver started the lesson before Minh could respond. Todd ignored her attempts at communication for the rest of class. He didn’t even glance at whatever amazing art thing she’d created. As soon as the bell rang, he shot out the door and booked it to economics.
People said redheads had tempers because of their hair, but it was Claire’s eyes that burned with green fire.
“Nice of you to t-t-take time off from your life of crime.”
“I…” Todd’s jaw waggled up and down. “I can explain. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Sure. Just like last year.”
Todd’s eyes involuntarily drifted to Saafi, who feigned interest in her planner. Her face was grave with memory, but she held her silence.
“Claire—”
“Sssstay away from me. I’ll d-do the project by myself.”
Todd sank into the seat beside her. He’d begun this day thinking he’d become a new person, but he’d encountered nothing but reminders of the old one. Starting over wasn’t as easy as Principal Evans made it sound. You couldn’t forge a new path when the old one trapped you in quicksand.
Todd spent the rest of class staring into space and longing for a cigarette. What am I supposed to do?
Chapter 9
Todd snuck through the kitchen, but an argument blocked his route to the stairs.
“You can’t stop supporting your sons,” his mother said.
“But I can stop supporting you.” His father handed her an envelope. “This is all the child support due until they turn eighteen.”
His mother snatched the envelope. “It’s not enough.”
“The judge will disagree. I’m telling my wife the truth, so don’t even think about demanding more.” His father left with his shoulders straight, relieved of the weight of two teenage boys.
His mother screeched and whipped out her phone, scrolling with a frenzy as she paced the living room. Todd waited until her back was turned before dashing to his room.
“How is dear old Dad?” Adam asked without taking his gaze off his phone.
“Officially not responsible for us anymore. He paid Mom for the rest of our childhood.”
“How will she fund her next face lift?” Adam’s tone was dry, as if he were too bored to inject sarcasm into his statement.
Todd plopped onto his bed, but his marigold plant’s drooping leaves gave him the plant equivalent of sad puppy dog eyes. He’d been so quick to criticize Fifi’s former owners, but he couldn’t even care for a plant.
Todd reminded himself marigolds were annuals. Their winter deaths were inevitable, but he couldn’t help wondering whether it would have lived longer if he’d tended it better. It sat on his shelf, abandoned.
