Condemned by Christopher Renna (best biographies to read txt) 📗

his bones as he straightened his posture and glanced at Trevor. The whispering stopped. Then he glanced at Adam.

He flipped open the textbook and stared at a random page. He suddenly felt uncharacteristically self-conscious. He was not used to people whispering about him, and it bothered him.

*   *   *

It soon became abundantly clear that the weekend arrival of reporters in Newman had advanced Jared's story from rumor to fact. In the eyes of students, the devil had paid Newman a visit; he was responsible for the death of Jared Smith, and he likely still wandered the streets searching for his next victim. Aside from their closest friends, most people avoided Conner, Adam, and Trevor. Everyone seemed content to steal a glance, openly stare, and talk in hushed tones.

At lunchtime, the three regrouped and sat at their usual table. Soon Hailey, Jasmine, and Miguel joined them. But then Zach appeared at their table, an air of melancholy coloring his mood.

Sitting on the bench, he said, "I guess some people are nervous to be around me."

"Why?" Adam asked.

"Because I went to Jared's house that night." He traced his finger though the air, pointing at everyone at the table. "Apparently, one of us is the next to be possessed."

Hailey gasped in disgust. "That's so rude. And wrong."

He looked at Jasmine. "I guess that means you and I will be sitting together at detention."

Slumping, she rolled her eyes. "Oh great. That's just great. Well, I'm not sitting with Rachel. She's the reason I have detention in the first place."

"Whatever," Zach replied as he opened a carton of milk. "All of us are outcasts at the moment."

Conner swept his eyes across the cafeteria. The stolen glances and whispered words were unrelenting. Instead of tapering off as Conner had expected, the not so stealthy behavior had only intensified. "Everyone's acting like an idiot."

"Yep," Adam mumbled as he chewed. "Idiots."

"I don't care," Trevor said. "I'm not playing into their BS."

"Hey. Wait a minute." Adam dropped his turkey sandwich onto his plate. "So, basically everyone is thinking this?"

"Apparently," Conner responded. "Basketball should be fun."

Trevor groaned. "Yeah, we'll see how successful practice is."

As Trevor discussed basketball with Adam and Zach, and Jasmine pretended to be keenly interested, Conner shyly smiled at Hailey. "Your dad confronted me this morning."

"No, he didn't. Oh, my goodness. What did he say?"

"That I violated his innocent daughter."

Her cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry. I should have told you about what I said to my parents. But I didn't hear from you last night. And then this morning, well . . . I'm sorry."

"I don't think he likes me."

"He doesn't know you."

"Then, I don't think he will like me."

"I blurted something to my parents totally on an impulse, and my dad assumed the worst. I mean, I didn't correct him. So I"—she leaned forward—Can we talk about this at a later time?"

Miguel, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity, said, "Her dad can be very temperamental."

She relaxed. "Conner, are you guys doing okay? Everything's gotten kinda crazy."

"Yeah. We're all right."

"You should have seen the commotion at church. When those reporters showed up, it was intense."

"It's been a very intense week," he replied.

She set her hand onto his. "That's why I'm always asking how you guys are doing. I'm concerned."

The fact that she believed it was necessary to assume the role as his close confidant provoked an uncomfortable jumble of nerves. Especially since her father had threatened him. "I know. But don't worry about us." He grabbed his tray. "When we finally figure out the whole story, we'll be fine."

As he walked away from the table, she said his name. Yet he continued to walk. Where to? He didn't know. Just out of the cafeteria, away from everyone who thought they knew what had happened to Jared. Away from the stares and the whispers.

Trevor called out, "Yo, Conner."

He reached the far end of the cafeteria, where a group of football players sat. Seniors and juniors. Although Newman was a relatively small suburb, the high school was large enough that many of the students one would assume congregated together, didn't. The football players routinely hung out in groups while the basketball players had their own clique. During the fall and winter semesters, the two athletic circles rarely mingled.

As Conner passed the table, Doug, the middle linebacker, flung a stream of water onto him. Then he said, "Nothing happened."

"Duh," the defensive end responded. "It has to be holy water."

Another guy arranged a fork and knife into a makeshift crucifix.

Conner scowled, doing his best not to react with his fist. Instead, he hurled his turkey sandwich at Doug's face. "Asshole."

The football players responded with several shocked expressions and a few hoots of laughter.

Doug grimaced, mustard smearing his cheek and the bridge of his nose. Rising to his feet, he exclaimed, "Big mistake!"

Unflinching, Conner looked at Doug as if daring him to make a move. "No, you made a big mistake."

Trevor, Adam, and Miguel slid into position at his side. Then the football coach appeared on the scene as if magically teleported, shooting daggers and ordering Doug to "sit your ass down." Then at everyone else: "Save it for the opposing team, nimrods."

Before walking out of the cafeteria, Conner glanced back at Hailey, standing with Jasmine at their table. She watched him with sadness and a hint of worry. Zach remained seated, shoveling food into his big mouth.

"That was a good shot." Adam laughed. "You nailed him right in the face from like ten feet away."

The guys jumped into Miguel's BMW and headed for the drive-through of a fast-food restaurant a couple blocks from school. None of them were in a rush to return to class, but they devoured their lunch in the car and then ventured inside Newman High unenthused to fulfill their obligation.

Conner and Adam headed to Algebra II. As soon as they entered the classroom, the bell sounded. Within seconds of sitting, Mr. Peterson handed out a quiz on polynomial factorization. "You have twenty minutes. I want to