But of course I didn't. After dinner on Friday, I called Brandie. She greeted me with a glum hello. Even over the phone I could tell she was upset and very depressed. I tried to cheer her up.
"We're all goin blading at the Miami Rink," I told her. "Want to come?"
Brandie is a terror on Rollerblades! She whirls around wildly and waves her arms like a crazy person. She always skates five times faster then everyone else. Which is bad news because she is a terrible skater!
I can't tell you how many times we've had to scrape her off the wall or pull her up off the floor, mangled and dazed. She just can't ever do anything seriously. She always has to be funny--even when she risks trashing herself for good!
"I can't go," Brandie moaned. "I can't go anywhere AJ. I'm grounded. I think, forever."
"Oh no," I murmured. "Because of the car?"
"Yeah, because of the car," Brandie repeated unhappily. "I'm grounded forever. I'll never see you guys again." She sighed. "And that's not the worst part."
I took a deep breath. "What's the worst part?"
"I can't take that job as a camp counselor this summer," Brandie replied. Her voice cracked. I knew she really wanted the camp job. "I have to stay in Miami all summer and work in my dad's shop," Brandie groaned. "It's to help pay for the car damage."
"You mean you don't get to keep the money you earn?" I asked.
"No, I don't." Her voice was low, I had to press the phone against my ear to hear her. "No. It all goes to my dad to help pay for what that creep Kevin did to the car."
"Oh wow," I murmured. I felt so bad for Brandie. She didn't total the car. Kevin did. Brandie didn't even want to lend the car to Kevin.
"Kev should pay for the car," I said.
Brandie let out a dry, bitter laugh. "You go tell that to Kev."
A long silence. I could hear Brandie breathing on the other end. I tried to think of something cheerful to say.
I was worried about her. I really was. This was the first time I'd talked with her when she didn't crack a single joke. I felt as though her whole personality had changed. She sounded so totally down. So depressed.
All because of that big jerk Kevin.
"Can I come over to your house?" I suggested. "I'll forget about going blading. We could just hang out."
"Not allowed," she answered glumly. "I can't go anywhere, and I'm not allowed to have visitors. I'm a prisoner. A total prisoner."
"Well, maybe--" I started. But I could hear her dad yelling at her in the background.
"Okay, okay! Give me a break! I'm getting off!" Brandie shouted angrily to her dad. She returned to me.
"Got to go. Tell everyone hi." And she hung up. I replaced the receiver and paced back and forth in my room for a short while.
Brandie's parents will get over it, I decided. They'll calm down. They'll let Brandie go back to her normal life.
A long blast from a car horn snapped me from my thoughts. I peered out the window to the driveway and saw Howie's purple Chevrolet.
I brushed my hand through my hair, grabbed my Rollerblades, and hurried down to the car.
"Hey guys." I slid into the front passenger seat. Brian and Tyra were in the back-seat, pressed together.
"Is Brandie coming?" Howie asked, backing down the drive.
"Brandie isn't going anywhere," I reported. I told them the whole story.
When I finished, Brian and Howie both burst out in angry attacks on Kevin, both protested how unfair Brandie's parents were being. Tyra remained strangely quiet.
The rink was really crowded, even for a Friday night. I saw a lot of kids from our high school and a lot of younger kids. There aren't that many places to go in Miami. The skating rink is one of the few places to hang out with your friends.
During the winter, the floor is covered with ice, and we all come here to ice skate and sit around drinking cups and cups of coffee and hot chocolate. The ice had been removed only two weeks ago. So a lot of kids were eager to try out their new Rollerblades.
The four of us sat on the long bench outside the skating area. We took our time lacing up our skates. Brian had trouble getting his laces tight enough. So Tyra got down on her knees and fixed them for him.
It struck me funny. Tyra was so desperate to please. She didn't mind being Brian's slave.
I knew Brandie would have made a joke about it. She would have given Tyra a really hard time and made us all laugh.
So far, we weren't laughing very much. I think the others felt as bad about Brandie as I did. Kevin was messing up all of our lives. And there wasn't much we could do about it.
I brushed a hand through my hair and rolled onto the rink. I decided to try to forget about Kevin and Brandie and everything, and just have a good time.
I'm a pretty good skater. I've got strong ankles. And I love blading, even around circles in a rink.
But I was a little rusty. I mean, I hadn't bladed since last fall. And the rink was so jammed with kids.
I made a few circles, gliding unsteadily. I guess I picked up more speed then I intended for.
"Whooa!" I cried out as I spun too hard in a turn--and bumped hard into a skinny, blond-haired boy. His hands shot up. He cried out angrily.
And we both fell. I landed on top of him. Heard his grunt of suprise and pain.
"Sorry," I uttered breathlessly. Did I crush the little guy?
I scrambled to my feet. Bent to help him up. And recognized him. Aaron Carter. One of the twins I used to baby-sit for. Sure enough, Nick, his twin brother, came rolling over. He slid to a stop, his blue eyes narrowed first at his twin, then at me.
In an instant, I remembered how much I hated these two boys. They must be about 12 now, I realized. I used to baby-sit them when they were nine.
They looked like angels, but they weren't. As soon as their parents were out the door, they went wild. Fighting with each other. Torturing the dog. Trashing the house. Refusing to go to bed.
"Are you all right?" I asked Aaron.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" he snarled at me, rubbing his elbow.
"AJ--what are you doing here?" Nick demanded. "Aren't you too old to be on Rollerblades?"
They both burst into high-pitched giggles at that. Ha-ha.
I made sure Aaron wasn't injured. Then I skated over to join Howie.
"Take some lessons!" I heard Aaron call after me. And I heard their obnoxious giggles again.
"Didn't you used to baby-sit for those twins?" Howie asked as I skated up beside him.
I nodded. "I just fell on one of them," I told him. "But not hard enough!"
I waved to some guys from school, keeping in a steady rhythm with Howie.
"Where are Tyra and Brian?" I asked, my eyes making a circle, searching around the crowd. Howie pointed.
They hadn't left the bench. They were wrapped around each other like two octopuses. Tyra was practically on his lap. Her hair fell over her face as she kissed him. I stared at them for one long moment, then nearly skated into a wall!
"Maybe he really does like her," Howie said wistfully.
"Maybe," I replied.
A short while later, Brian and Tyra disappeared together. I'm not sure why they bothered to bring their skates.
Howie and I bladed for about 20 minutes. Then we ran into some kids we knew, and we hung out with them at the food stand for a while.
Then Howie saw a girl from Tampa he knew. Waving and shouting her name, he hurried over to talk to her.
I tightened my skate laces, preparing to skate some more. My legs tingled. The muscles throbbed. It felt good. I needed the exercise. I hadn't done anything athletic all winter.
"Hey, listen." I felt Howie's hand on my shoulder. "Jeana and I are going to a party she knows about." He pointed to a kid from Tampa, a tall, thin girl wearing a tight baseball shirt and loose flares. "Want to come? You're welcome to come with us."
I shook my head. "No. Go ahead. I want to skate some more."
He brought his face close to mine and stared me into the eyes. "You're sure you don't want me deserting you like this?"
"Howie, it's no problem," I assured him. "I really want to get some exercise. I'll get a ride home with someone. Or else take the bus."
I watched him hurry away with her. Then I rolled onto the rink, holding the rail. I wished Brandie had been able to come. I didn't mind everyone leaving. I just wished Brandie were there.
Anyway, I bladed for about half an hour. I enjoyed it. It felt really good to give my klutzy legs a workout. And the rink has an awesome stereo system and plays really great music.
I guess it was about 11:00 when I decided to leave. I couldn't find anyone to give me a ride. So I counted out my change for the bus. It didn't run very often this late at night, but maybe I'd get lucky.
I jammed my Rollerblades into the carrying bag and made my way out the back exit of the rink. There's a narrow alley back there, a shortcut to the bus stop.
I stepped into the alley. The air felt suprisingly cool. I guess I was overheated from skating. My legs tingled. I gazed up at a small crescent moon hanging between the buildings. A single yellow light bulb cast a pale cone of light over the alley.
I could hear voices from the street beyond the alley. I heard the screech of car tires. I could hear the steady drumbeat from the stereo system in the rink behind me.
I took five or six steps in the alley--then stopped. I recognized Kevin's face.
That's the first thing I saw. His face. It made me stop and raise my hands to my head.
Kevin's face.
Why was he laying on his back in the alley?
I saw his legs sprawled on the concrete, one knee raised. I saw his hands angled from his sides, balled into tight fists.
And then I saw the skates. The laces around his throat. The laces stretched so tight around his throat that his eyes bulged.
His eyes bulged, staring lifelessly up at the crescent moon. His face pale, so ghostly pale in the dim alley light.
The laces to tight, twisted around and around his throat, cutting into his neck.
And one skate--the front of the skate--jammed into his mouth. Jammed so tight it stood up in his mouth.
Kevin. Dead in the alley. Strangled by the skates.
Strangled and smothered.
And dead.
Chapter 9
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