“Well, I guess we can stop worrying about Josh,” Rick cut in, his voice turning cold and his expression tightening. Before either Michael or Josh could say anything else, Rick stalked off into the cafeteria.
Michael stared at Josh’s rumpled clothes and the smears of dirt on his face, seeing in an instant that Josh hadn’t been home since last night. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Where’s Jeff?”
“Oh, Jeez,” Josh whispered. “He isn’t here?”
There was something in his friend’s voice that made the apprehension Michael had been feeling all morning congeal into fear. He shook his head and told Josh what he had heard on the radio and what Rick had just confirmed.
“I ran into him after I left your house,” Josh said. He glanced around nervously. “Maybe we better get out of here, huh?”
“You mean just cut school for the rest of the day?” Michael asked. “Come on, Josh! Just tell me what’s going on, okay?”
“Not here!” Josh said as the cafeteria door opened and two kids came out, looked uncertainly at them, then hurried on. “What’s wrong with them?” Josh asked as they disappeared around the corner.
“Have you taken a look at yourself? What did you do last night?”
Josh felt a flicker of anger. Why was Mike quizzing him so much? It wasn’t as if he was asking much.…
But if he got pissed off at Michael, where could he go? Who could he even talk to? And he was starting to feel bad, too. But why wouldn’t he, after breathing all that smoke in the cane field last night, then sleeping in his truck? “Look, let’s just go over to the locker room. At least I can take a shower, and I’ll tell you what happened last night. But you gotta promise not to tell anyone, okay?”
Dropping several quarters into the vending machine outside the cafeteria door, Michael got a couple of Cokes, a bag of Fritos, and two packages of stale-looking cookies. Popping the top off one of the Cokes, he handed it to Josh, who took a long swig from it as they started toward the locker room. But as Josh lifted the Coke to his lips for a second drink, he was seized by a fit of coughing.
“You okay?” Michael asked.
Josh shook his head. “I feel like crap.”
In the locker room, Josh stripped out of his clothes and went into the showers. As he stood under the steaming water, scrubbing the soot and dirt from his skin, he finally told Michael what had happened last night.
“You just left him there?” Michael asked as Josh finished his shower and grabbed a towel.
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Josh shot back as he started to dry off, his temper flaring again. “He wouldn’t get back in the truck, and the fire was all around us, and those guys were coming, and—” His words were cut short as another hacking cough doubled him over.
“Maybe you better go home,” Michael said.
“Home?” Josh demanded as the coughing subsided. “That’s real easy for you, isn’t it, Mike? Your mom doesn’t get drunk and start pounding on you, like my dad does, and—” Suddenly Josh could barely breathe. Choking, he stumbled out of the locker room and shambled toward the rest room.
Michael hurried after him, and by the time he got to the rest room, Josh had sagged to the floor, his face pale. Frightened by the sudden change in his friend, Michael reached out and touched Josh’s arm.
His skin was cold and clammy.
Josh was gasping for breath. “What is it?” Michael asked. “What’s wrong?”
Josh peered up at Michael out of eyes that seemed to be glazing over. “D-Don’t know,” he gasped. “C–Can’t breathe …”
Michael’s eyes widened. Asthma? Could Josh be having an attack of asthma? His atomizer — the one his mother still made him take with him all the time, even though he hadn’t had an attack of asthma in over a year … where was it?
His locker.
Or should he run and get the nurse?
He didn’t even know where the nurse’s office was!
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’m gonna try to find the nurse, and I’ve got something in my locker that might help you breathe.”
“Not the nurse,” Josh gasped. “I don’t want—” But it was too late; Michael was already gone.
Struggling to catch his breath, Josh scrambled back to his feet, steadying himself with the knob of the closet door he’d been leaning against only a moment earlier. He took a tentative step, started to lose his balance, and jerked on the doorknob.
The door came open, revealing a jumble of boxes, cans, and bottles — the cleansers and disinfectants the janitor stored in the closet.
Instinctively moving back a step, Josh stared at the array of bottles and containers spread out in front of him. Then, reacting to an impulse that had suddenly seized him, he reached out, picked up a bottle of ammonia, opened it, and tentatively held it to his nose.
Sucking the fumes deep into his lungs, he felt an instant rush of energy, as if a shot of adrenaline had been injected into his bloodstream.
He breathed in again; an almost electric tingle ran through his body.
A moment later, when Michael Sundquist reappeared, his inhaler clutched in his hand, Josh Malani’s entire demeanor had changed again.
His complexion looked healthy, his eyes were bright, and he seemed to be breathing perfectly normally.
As Michael looked on in astonishment, Josh once again raised the ammonia bottle to his nose and inhaled its fumes into his lungs. “Jeez, Josh, what are you doing?” Michael cried, grabbing the bottle from Josh’s hand. “What’s all this mess?”
“Give it back!” Josh demanded. “I was just sniffing it.”
“Are you crazy? That stuff’s poisonous! It can kill you.”
Josh reached for the bottle once again. “Just give it to me!”
Shoving Josh away from the closet, Michael slammed the door shut, then leaned against it, the bottle of ammonia clutched in his hands. Josh glowered at him, and for a moment Michael was afraid he might be about to slug him. But then Josh shook his head. “The hell with you,” he muttered. Turning his back on Michael, he barged out of the rest room. By the time Michael had put the ammonia away and gone after him, Josh was almost dressed again.
“Come on, Josh,” Michael pleaded. “I’m just trying to help you.”
Josh barely looked at him. “I don’t need you helping me. I don’t need anyone helping me.” Then he was gone, shoving Michael aside as he left the locker room and headed for the parking lot. Michael caught up with him just as he was getting into his truck.
“I’m going with you,” Michael said, heading toward the passenger’s side.
“The hell you are.” Starting the engine, Josh slammed the truck into gear and screeched out of the parking lot.
Michael stood in the cloud of dust the truck had kicked up, staring after his friend. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and in his stomach he felt a hard knot of anger and pain, all twisted together so tightly he couldn’t even begin to unravel it. He’ll get over it, he told himself as he finally turned away and started back toward the locker room. By the time school’s out, he’ll get over it. It’ll be okay.
But even as he silently uttered the words to himself, he knew he didn’t believe them.
CHAPTER 20
Josh Malani had no idea where he was going as he roared out of the school parking lot. All he knew was that he had to get away.
Already the tingling he’d felt in his body when he breathed in the ammonia was fading away, but so was the fury that had boiled up in him when Michael had torn the bottle from his hands.
What the hell was he doing, getting pissed off at Michael? Michael was his best friend.
Michael had saved his life.
Michael had only been trying to help him.