if I donate it to the Salvation Army where it can do something?”
Jake rolled his eyes and scowled, but kept his mouth shut.
Mr. Dean patted Jake on the shoulder. “Life is an endless series of choices, Mr. MacRae.” He leaned in, scooped up the loot, and strolled off, humming “Amazing Grace.”
Jake gave Cole a shove. “You idiot.”
“What’d I do?”
“This money just happens to be sitting here doing nothing …” Jake mocked. “Couldn’t you have come up with something better?”
“I didn’t hear anything brilliant shooting out of your mouth. And I guess you’d have wanted a pile of detentions instead?”
Jake picked up his cards and threw them across the table.
Cole sneered. “Think of it as bail.”
Damon was leaning back in his chair. “Forget it. It’s chump change. Let’s talk real business.”
Business. Right. Jake had avoided thinking about it all day. He reached over and grabbed a few fries from Cole’s plate. They were cold and tasted like cardboard.
“My brother says you guys have been hanging around the coffee shop long enough. He wants you to do a favour for him.”
Damon’s brother, Vlad, was what you’d call king of the 5 King Tribe. He was the kind of guy you did not want to disappoint.
“We’re in,” said Cole all too eagerly. He glanced at Jake, but Jake didn’t say a word.
“Good,” said Damon. “Vlad will be happy.”
“So, um, what exactly does he want us to do?” asked Jake.
Damon was eyeing him as if they were playing poker again. Only this time Jake felt his cheeks flush.
“Meet at the coffee shop at one o’clock on Sunday. Pick up a package and take it to where Vlad tells you. A simple delivery.”
Simple, thought Jake. But what if simple gets complicated?
“Delivery,” said Cole. “Sure.” He flashed Jake another look. This one said: Be cool.
The bell rang, ending second lunch. Damon grabbed the cards, shoved them into his pocket, and swaggered off into the stream of students heading toward their lockers. “Sunday,” he called over his shoulder. He didn’t look back.
“What’s your problem?” asked Cole once Damon had disappeared. “Don’t you get it? When Vlad asks you to do something, you do it.”
Jake didn’t respond. His thoughts were doing backflips.
“It’s just a delivery,” said Cole. “Like Damon said — simple.”
“Simple,” echoed Jake. He was nodding, but his expression betrayed his uncertainty.
Cole sighed. “Make up your mind, man — in or out …?”
CHAPTER TWO
The October sky looked like an art experiment gone wrong. Blotches of red, orange, and purple streaked the deepening blue as the sun hovered low in the horizon. It was getting dark earlier. A bitter wind raced down the street, scattering litter and leaves. It sliced through Jake’s grey hoodie, chilling him to the bone. He bent his head and hugged his chest. He was late and he hadn’t called. His mom was going to go off like a firecracker.
Jake slipped inside the building. While he waited for the elevator, he thought up excuses.
Team tryouts? Nah. She’d never buy it.
Detention? Sure. But then he’d catch it just the same.
Extra help? Jake smiled — even he wouldn’t believe that.
The elevator doors opened, and Jake stepped inside. He pressed number seven and felt the old motor kick in as the traction steel ropes began hauling him upward. Then somewhere between the third and fifth floors the elevator ground to a halt and the lights went out. In the ten years he’d lived in the building this had never happened.
Jake stood for a moment, searching the darkness. It was thick and complete. The tiny space seemed to be drawing in on him, getting hotter by the second and leaking oxygen. Jake’s pulse quickened. Sweat skittered across his forehead. He reached out, fumbling for the emergency button. Then a voice — more like a whisper of wind — blew past his right ear.
Last stop.
Jake spun round. He stepped backward until he was against the metal doors. Who had said that? But before his brain could calculate possibilities the lights went on, the air cooled, and the elevator jolted upward. Jake was standing alone. His eyes swept the ceiling and floor. A wad of gum. A cigarette butt. A chocolate-bar wrapper. He mopped his forehead and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Must have been his imagination.
Exiting the elevator, Jake headed down the hallway. There was barely enough time to turn the key before the door to his apartment flew open.
“Where have you been? How many times do I have to tell you to call?”
The fireworks display began.
“Do you ever listen to a word I say? I feel like I’m banging my head against a wall.”
Jake stood there, letting his mother finish her rant. There was no point in stopping her. Once she got going, she’d have to say it all. If he interrupted, her lecture would never end. He’d learned that the hard way.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“It was off.”
“Perfect. Why do I bother paying for that thing?” She leaned in closer and sniffed. “Have you been drinking again?”
“Huh? No.” Jake shrugged and did his best to look indignant. Like it had never happened before.
Jake’s mother’s stringy blond hair was showing an inch of dark roots. The corners of her eyes were ploughed like fields. She was skinny. Too skinny. She wore jeans that were out of style and T-shirts that were too big. She looked way older than thirty-four.
“I’ll bet you were hanging around with Cole.” She said his name as if it were some kind of disease. “I don’t trust him. He’s a cheap thug. He’s been getting you into trouble ever since you met him.”
Just then Drew poked his head round the corner. He mimicked their mother, shaking his head, gesturing, and moving his mouth exaggeratedly. It made Jake smile.
“Oh, I suppose you think I’m funny now. Some kinda joke. Well, let’s see if you think it’s funny when I …”
“No, Mom,” said Drew, stepping into the hallway. “He’s not laughing at you … it was me …”
“Save it, Drew. You’re always trying to rescue your brother. But I got news for you — he isn’t the one who needs rescuing …” She
