Chapter 3

Ted was stunning, as if he'd stepped from another world. By that afternoon, girls from every grade had crammed against the windows, gawking at him.

A few days later, even the prom queen slipped him notes, but he brushed them all off, preferring to doze in the back row as if nothing mattered.

He ignored books and lectures alike, and the teachers turned a blind eye. Only during tests would he nudge my back and say, "Hey, let me copy your answers."

He seemed to assume I'd comply, and I did. That irritated the other guys, who branded him a show-off and started picking fights with him every few days in the alley behind the school.

I'd catch glimpses of those brawls almost daily.

One evening, as I biked past, I spotted him slumped against the wall, smoking through a battered face. I hesitated, then braked and fished a Band-Aid from my pocket.

"You're bleeding," I said, offering it to him.

He glanced up with an icy stare. "Scram."

What a jerk! I wasn't crushing on him; it was just basic decency.

After that, I ignored his nudges for answers. A month later, his admirers dwindled, but the rumors only grew.

Some said that his jacket was from some obscure luxury brand, costing 30 grand. Others whispered he was the son of a mistress, abandoned when the wife discovered the affair. His mom couldn't handle life in Eldonfield anymore, so they'd returned to their roots.

The stares shifted, blending envy with scorn and a twisted curiosity.

One dusk, as I biked through the alley on my way home, I found him sprawled on the ground in the aftermath of a brutal fight.

His knuckles were bloody, his face marred with cuts. Blood trickled from his forehead.

I nearly kept pedaling, but the falling snow had half-buried him, and his pallor was ghostly. Worried, I approached and nudged him gently. "Are you okay?"

Getting no response, I panicked and pulled out my phone. "I'm calling 911."

Only then did he crack an eye open, frowning. "It's you again."

I was annoyed, but urgency took precedence. "You're really messed up. Let's get you to the hospital."

"Mind your own business," he spat, his lids dropping again.

I dialed anyway. He was shivering in just a black hoodie, so after a moment's hesitation, I shrugged off my red down jacket and draped it over him.

He tensed and called out as I turned away. My faded, frumpy coat looked almost comical on him. "You know my mom is a mistress, right?"

I mounted my bike. "I've heard the rumors. And?"

"Then why help me?"

"You're not her. Being the other woman sucks, but it's not a death sentence."

Silence fell as snow dusted his lashes, and he stared at me. The sirens began wailing in the distance, and I waved. "Don't forget to return the jacket."

He was absent for a week after that, and his opponents fared no better.

His mother, Mamie Hubbard, stormed into the school, resulting in their expulsion all around.