Condemned Christopher Renna (books to read to get smarter .txt) 📖
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- Author: Christopher Renna
Book online «Condemned Christopher Renna (books to read to get smarter .txt) 📖». Author Christopher Renna
"What did she mean by that?"
"I guess she was exhausted. Didn't seem too happy. I'm not sure."
"If Jared was sick, it's weird that no one mentioned anything. You know? You'd think his parents or sister would have said something to someone. I mean . . . jeez, if he was dying."
"Some people think he committed suicide."
"I heard a few people say that too."
"Do you think he did?"
Shrugging, he replied, "I have no idea."
He thought of his last one-on-one interaction with Jared several weeks earlier. Conner had rushed to the restroom from Biology II class. The moment he entered, he instantly froze at the sight of Jared gripping the edge of a white porcelain sink and staring at himself in the splotchy mirror. His face was thin, pale, and damp with sweat. Strands of his dark hair stuck out here and there at odd angles.
"Oh, hey," Conner said.
Jared seemed so transfixed by his reflection that he didn't respond.
"You okay?" Conner stepped closer. "What's wrong, man?"
For a few seconds, Jared remained focused on his reflection, then his eyes shifted to Conner in the mirror. Teary-eyed, he regarded Conner with contempt.
The look made Conner uncomfortable. "My bladder is about to explode. I gotta piss," he said and then hurried to the wall of urinals.
Once he returned to the row of sinks, he was surprised to see Jared still stationary, staring at his reflection.
As Conner washed his hands, he said, "Are you sure you don't need help with something? You need to talk?"
The fluorescent lighting did little to conceal the puffy, darkened skin under Jared's eyes. With tears rolling down his cheeks, Jared clenched his teeth. "Please. Leave. Me. Alone."
Conner reached for Jared's shoulder, but Jared slapped his hand away and growled, "No!"
Startled, Conner slinked back. "Sorry, man. I'm going."
He paused at the door, contemplating a return to Jared's side, but he decided against it. Before the door swung closed, he heard Jared cry, "Why are you doing this to me?"
* * *
After basketball practice, Trevor drove Conner and Adam home in his white Toyota Camry. Parked at the curb in front of Conner's house, he said, "Let me know if you guys want to do something later."
"Nah. I have that damn essay to write," Conner replied, getting out of the car. "I need this paper to raise my A."
Adam shut the back door and then leaned inside the passenger window. "I might watch a movie later. Maybe I can convince my mom to order pizza for dinner if you wanna come over."
"Cool, I'm down," Trevor replied. "I'll text you."
"Yep." As Trevor drove away, Adam asked, "You sure you don't wanna hang later?"
Conner shrugged. "If I get the essay done, I'll let you know."
"Okay." Adam jogged across the street to his house. From his porch, he yelled, "You really gonna write that essay or are you just bummed out about Jared?"
Turning, Conner thought a moment, then shouted, "Both."
"I hear ya."
Inside, Conner dropped his backpack next to the front door and then walked to the kitchen. His thirteen-year-old brother, Mason, stood by the stove. Dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top, he resembled Conner at that age. A lean frame with muscles finally starting to develop. Blue eyes. Short, dirty-blond hair in need of a trim.
Mason poured a glass of juice as Conner sat at the kitchen table.
"How was school?" Conner asked.
"Eh. Okay." Mason sat. His eyes focused on an olive-green fabric placemat. "Sorry to hear about Jared."
Conner sucked in air. "Yeah. Thanks, man."
"So? You know what happened?"
"Nope."
"You weren't friends with him anymore, right?"
"Not really." Conner crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator. "Are Mom and Dad home?"
"Mom's upstairs." He glanced at the oversized clock on the wall. "Dad's probably on his way home."
Conner grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge. "I got homework."
The moment Conner stepped onto the stairs, his mother appeared on the landing above. Still dressed in business attire, not a single blonde hair was out of place.
"Hi, honey," she said. "I heard about Jared. How are you doing?"
"I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
At the top of the stairs, he let her smooth his hair. He asked, "You didn't hear anything about how he died?"
"No. Only that he passed away over the weekend. Do you know what happened?"
He shook his head. "No one does."
She pursed her lips and gave a sympathetic nod. "If you need to talk about it, you come find me or your father, okay?"
"I will."
Walking down the stairs, she said, "Dinner will be ready in an hour. But if you're not up for it—"
"I'm fine, Mom. Gotta start a paper. I'll be down for dinner, okay?"
"All right, honey."
In his room, he sat at the desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a digital camera. He scrolled through the 2018 album until he found a series of photos of him, Adam, Trevor, and Jared taken during a summer trip five months earlier. The four smiled or laughed in nearly every photo recording their weekend at a cabin with Adam's parents. It was the last trip that the boys had taken together because a few weeks later Jared had started to pull away from his friends.
There was a knock on his bedroom door.
"Yeah," he called out.
His father poked his head inside. "How are you doing, buddy?"
"Fine."
Stepping into the room, his father said, "You wanna talk about it?"
"Jared?"
"Yeah."
"I'm fine." Conner clicked the camera off and placed it back in the drawer. "I mean, really. But if I wanna talk, I'll let you know."
"Okay, buddy." His dad squeezed Conner's shoulder. "Your mom and I are available whenever you need us. Day or night. Got it?"
Of course Conner got it. He could always depend on his parents for support. "I know."
"Good." He returned to the door. "I'll see you at dinner."
The family ate dinner as they normally would. They discussed school and grades and athletic commitments as usual. Conner's parents briefly talked about work. Mason recalled an amusing story about a friend at school that day. Although Conner participated in conversation, he avoided the topic of
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