Look Inside Every Move They Make (Cherry Mills Mysteries #1)

–  1  –

The front door burst open and sent an echo down the entryway to every room in the house, followed by an angry slam and a heavy thud. Elise’s purse presumably flung against the bench by the door.

In the living room Teigan and Mattix exchanged looks, both with mouths full of popcorn stopped mid-chew.

“Wait for it...” Teigan held up a finger and munched her mouthful of popcorn slowly.

Several seconds passed before the stomps began, up the stairs, one of Elise’s trademark moves.

“Wait...” Teigan continued her play-by-play as Mattix waited with a guilty grin. “Almost there.”

The thumping switched to creaking floorboards. Teigan tracked the traveling sound with a pointed finger at the ceiling until they both heard Elise’s bedroom door slam closed.

Teigan snapped her fingers. “The meltdown has landed.”

Mattix glanced at the television and sighed. The opening credits of the movie had just finished. “I guess the dance didn’t go well.”

If Teigan wore glasses, she’d be looking over the rims. “Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Raincheck?”

“Of course.” Mattix looked at her optimistically. “Or maybe things aren’t as bad as they sounded.”

Being parents to two teenagers, Teigan and Mattix rarely got time for themselves in their own home, let alone the living room with its big screen TV. They usually sequestered themselves in their bedroom to give their kids run of the house. It was the least they could do. Soon enough they would be moving out, leaving the house empty and longing for teenage hijinks again.

Teigan and Mattix had been looking forward to Diamond Bay High School’s annual Spring Fling dance just as much as their kids. But an evening of snacks, Netflix, and possibly chill had just frozen over.

Teigan pulled herself out from the warmth of the loveseat in the living room and stepped over Elise’s purse, jacket, and shoes that lay strewn at the base of the stairs. Nearing the second floor, Teigan recalled fondly the times when “hot mess” referred only to dinner time.

Elise had always been more volatile than her older brother. It had been six months since Newton had displayed what could be classified as a meltdown. He was a senior at Diamond Bay this year and had his eighteenth birthday coming up in July. Perhaps being two years older than Elise meant that his emotional maturity had developed more. Or maybe he was bottling up his feelings. It was hard to tell. Newton kept his cards close to his chest. Elise, on the other hand, liked to play emotional fifty-two pickup.

Teigan approached Elise’s bedroom door, positioning her ear close, listening for sounds of distress.

“I know you’re there, Mom,” Elise said through the door. “I can hear you breathing.”

Teigan drew back, sensing her annoyance. “Just checking up on you, hon. You want to talk?”

“No. Just leave me alone.”

Now was not a time to negotiate. “Okay.” Teigan turned to leave, then paused. “You’re welcome to join me and Dad for a movie. We just started it. And we have pop—”

“I don’t want to be part of your lovefest!”

“O-kay,” Teigan whispered to herself. She padded back to the stairs with slow, deliberate steps, like she was leaving a lioness’s den. Slow because she could read her daughter like a book, and she knew what was coming.

True to form, Elise’s bedroom door cracked open. “Mom?”

Teigan turned to see Elise standing in her bedroom doorway, her simple yet elegant midnight blue halter-neck dress that they had picked out together a week earlier backlit by her bedroom light. It was easy for Teigan to flash forward and see the woman her daughter would become.

Elise’s cheeks were wet with tears. She did want to talk. It was written all over her face.

Teigan took her daughter in her arms. “Oh, sweetie. What happened?”

Elise buried her face into Teigan’s shirt. “Hazy ditched me.”

Elise and Haislee (Hazy) Kirkland had been best friends since kindergarten. They had been through everything together and usually were inseparable.

“Did you two have plans? For after?”

“Yeah. She said she had a stomachache, but she disappeared and she’s not answering my texts now.”

“You’ve called her?”

Elise pulled back and rolled her eyes at her. “Nobody ever calls anyone anymore, Mom.”

“Right. What about... Facetime?”

“You mean Snapchat. She’s not answering anything.”

Teigan pulled Elise in for a hug. “I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe her battery died.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Give it some time.” Teigan started down the stairs. “Elise?”

“Yeah?”

“That dress is stunning on you. You have a real sense for fashion, just like your grandmother, because you certainly didn’t get it from me.”

Elise smiled, probably for the first time since returning home. “Thanks, Mom. I’m going to change. As hot as this dress is, it’s a little scratchy.”

Teigan nodded. “Offer’s still open, okay? Movie and popcorn.”

Elise retreated into her bedroom and closed the door. No slam this time.

Teigan plopped herself back down beside Mattix, her chin on his chest, gazing up at him. “Miss me?”

“Terribly.” Mattix kissed her. “Ship out of danger?”

“She’ll be fine.” Teigan rolled over and grabbed the remote, restarting their movie. “Haislee’s M.I.A.”

Mattix snagged a handful of popcorn and handed the bowl to Teigan. “Haislee has become a bit of a wildcard lately.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s been less reliable,” Mattix said. “Flaky. Late for hangouts, that kind of thing.”

“Do you not remember what it was like to be a teenager?” Teigan raised a brow at him. “Add social media and all that shit on top of everything. It’s amazing that teenagers get out alive these days.”

“That’s fair.”

Teigan scooped up a handful of popcorn. Just as she filled her mouth, the phone rang in the kitchen. She glanced at Mattix.

He shook his head. “Let it go to voicemail.”

The phone rang twice more, then went silent.

“See?” Mattix grabbed some popcorn.

The iPhone Radiate ring tone floated down from Elise’s bedroom, then muffled talking. “That’s probably Haislee now,” Teigan said.

The phone in the kitchen rang again. Teigan moved to get up, but Mattix held her back.

“Elise,” he called out. “Could you get the phone, please?”

Teigan stared at him with a quizzical look. “Why?”

“Our kids should be serving us now,” Mattix said, his eyes on the television. “They’re old enough.”

“You’re serious?”

Mattix smiled and chuckled to himself. “Partly. The extension is twenty steps from her room. Hardly a hardship.” He yelled up at Elise again. “Elise? Can you please get that?”

Elise’s bedroom door squeaked open followed by soft footsteps along the upstairs hallway and into the master bedroom.

“See? They can be useful to us.” Mattix winked at her.

Teigan huffed at him. “Lise? Who was it?”

The staircase creaked in its usual spots, but Teigan’s question remained unanswered.

“Elise?” Teigan shot Mattix a look of concern. He paused the movie and both shifted forward in the love seat, immediately attentive.

Elise entered the living room. She wore an orange T-shirt and sweatpants, but her face was white as a sheet. She held her cell phone in one hand and the upstairs extension in the other, in front of her body, like she was unsure what to do with it.

“Hon, who is it?”

Elise swallowed hard and her words came out weak and gravelly. “It was the hospital. Something’s happened to Newt.” She gave the phone to Teigan with a trembling hand.

Teigan placed the phone to her ear as all of her worst fears fought to cloud her thoughts all at once. She pressed seven on the keypad to replay the message.

“Let me listen.” Mattix reached for the phone, but before he could take it, Teigan hung up, redialed, and waited.

“Hello, yes, this is Teigan Coleman. You just called regarding my son Newton.” A pause. “Yes. I’m his mother.”

She listened, her eyes shifting nervously between Mattix, Elise, and random points in the room. She raised her free hand to her mouth, her fingers trembling now too, as if to stifle a scream.

Teigan continued the call, answering questions only she could hear. “Not that I’m aware of.”

The person at the other end of the call, presumably a nurse, continued talking.

“Yes...” Teigan’s voice sounded robotic. “Okay.” The caller hung up. Teigan’s hand dropped to her lap, still gripping the phone.

Mattix moved around to face her. “Tee? What’s happened?”

Teigan looked up at Elise, then to Mattix. “Newton’s in a coma. A suspected drug overdose.”

“What?” Colour drained from Mattix’s face. “That’s impossible. Newton doesn’t do drugs.”

Or did he? Teigan’s mind struggled to recall any warning signs but instead ended up in the dark recesses of her imagination. And if Newton had access to drugs, what else was he into?

The three stared at each other, frozen by confusion and dread.

Elise broke the silence. “Wait. What if it’s a prank?”

Teigan locked gazes with her daughter and shook her head slowly. “You and I know that was no prank.”

Teigan stood, followed by Mattix and Elise. There was no need for further discussion. They piled into their Nissan Pathfinder with one destination, their minds consumed with worry and fear and for Teigan, guilt.

Newton would always be her first born. Her sole job was to keep him safe and she had failed, despite her considerable skills.

I should have done more, I could have done more, she screamed inside her head. Before they arrived at the hospital, Teigan made a solemn vow to herself and to Newton.

I will do more because I have the power to do so.

–  2  –

The summer preceding Newton’s senior year at Diamond Bay High School had ended up being one of the worst in recent memory. He worked at his local Baskin-Robbins, one of the many businesses that formed the brilliantly named Main East Plaza. The aging complex was situated parallel to Main Road East in Cherry Mills, a residential neighbourhood in Hamilton, Ontario. To the students of Diamond Bay, the mall had one name: Main Eats, because eating was all you could really do there.

Newton’s ice cream-slinging employer apparently had 31 lives as well as flavours and had escaped the COVID pandemic that killed over half of the plaza’s original businesses.

Scooping ice cream wasn’t all bad. In fact, it was pretty good as jobs go. His hours were flexible and the store was a brisk walk or a short bicycle ride away. The neighbourhood of Cherry Mills was small, but diverse enough to keep Newton’s life interesting.

Consistently warm summer temperatures in the high 70s meant a lot of business from girls in shorts and tank tops. And many of them went to either Diamond Bay High or McMaster University. Newton flexed his scooping arms as he built up his people (flirting) skills, something which social media was doing its best to destroy. He liked to think that they were coming for ice cream partly because he saw himself as easy to talk to and fairly good looking. “It’s not bragging if it’s true,” he often told himself. But he made sure to keep his ego in check, unlike his friends Richard and Dustin.

Richard Baum had been Newton’s best friend since middle school. The two of them had much in common, video games (particularly retro consoles) and music from the ’80s and ’90s being their main interests. Richard had big dreams but little follow-through. He saw himself designing his own video games and assumed Newton would compose the music. The assumption had formed the first crack in their friendship.

Every single idea that Richard came up with would be put on hold when something bigger and better popped into his head. Not a single game was ever finished and Newton never had a chance to compose anything. Still, their friendship weathered these disappointing setbacks until Dustin Stoaks attached himself to the friend duo in Grade 11.

Dustin held himself in high regard and made it clear to anyone within earshot that he had the answer for everything. In contrast to Newton and especially Richard, Dustin’s family was loaded. He lived with his mostly absent parents in an obnoxiously large mansion in Rockwood West, a small affluent neighbourhood bordering on Cherry Mills. The house had a private driveway and porte cochère, a pool, a tennis court, and a well-tended garden. Newton often wondered where the Stoaks went for vacations, because their house was like a resort to begin with.

Confidence was Dustin’s middle name and that was a good thing. Only during the past two years had girls appeared on Newton and Richard’s radar. Dustin wasn’t classically handsome (he’d disagree), nor was he tall and fit (he’d disagree), but his reputation as a player kept Newton, Richard, and others within his circle of influence so they could experience the “one percent.” Because if Dustin could get girls, so could they.

“I get laid at least once a week,” Dustin often told them. “By the end of the year, so will you, if you stick by me, listen, and learn.”

What many forgot (or chose to ignore) was most, if not all, of the girls were interested in one thing, and that wasn’t Dustin. It was what Dustin had access to, whether it was money, booze, or drugs. Because rich people had connections that regular people didn’t. Wisely, Newton took Dustin’s success with girls with a grain of salt. However, Richard was all in. He had found his leader.

The three of them began to hang around together on a regular basis. Dustin was generous towards Richard with both his time and money, but with Newton there always seemed to be strings attached. He offered friendship only when he wanted something from Newton.

“Give me your notes, braniac,” Dustin would say, his greedy hands beckoning after goofing off in the classes they shared. “I’ve got a mod for Grand Theft Auto to show you later.” Newton saw through Dustin’s attempts to soften his demands. Teasing a special video game or some other exclusive content was hardly an incentive, but Newton let it slide to keep the peace. And it worked for a while.

After the Grade 11 Spring Fling dance, Dustin suggested picking up some Party Packs from Mary Brown’s Chicken and taking it to the afterparty at Pyckman Quarry. Urban development in Hamilton required vast quantities of cement. Pyckman Quarry’s seemingly unlimited supply of limestone, cement’s principle ingredient, ensured a long and profitable business lifespan. It also provided a consistent and relatively secluded spot for teenagers to raise hell without having to worry about police. The owners of the quarry could have installed security lighting and cameras but never did. Maybe the owners had partied there as teenagers, too.

“If it’s anything like last year, the place is going to be fuckin’ jumpin’.” Dustin gripped the steering wheel of his black 2023 Cadillac Escalade. He looked at Richard in the passenger seat rocking his head back and forth to Drake on the stereo. “So how much chicken is that?”

Richard shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

Dustin eyed Newton in the back seat through the rearview mirror. “How much? Gimme a number.”

Newton had no idea, but he could find out. “How many people are going?”

“Oh yeah,” Dustin said. “You guys weren’t there last year because back then you were fuckin’ losers. Then you met me.”

Newton bristled. “How many?”

“My parties are epic. You know that. Let’s say a hundred?”

Newton pulled out his phone, called up the website for Mary Brown’s, and performed some quick math in his head. Easy math. “Get eight Party Packs.”

Dustin laughed and tossed his gold Amex card at him. “Take care of it, calculator boy.”

“Right away, cash-stuffed dough-boy.” The words were out before Newton had a chance to stop them. He had committed the double cardinal sin of joking about Dustin’s money and his weight.

Richard stopped rocking his head and glanced at Dustin. Newton felt the heat from Dustin’s humorless eyes through the rearview mirror.

“Relax,” Newton said. “I meant it in the best way possible.”

Dustin punched the off button to the stereo, plunging the SUV into heavy silence. “Did you, Newt? Did you really?”

“Come on. I was joking.” Newton shrugged. “Calculator boy made a joke.”

“A joke. Right,” said Dustin. “Get on that chicken. I don’t want to have to wait.”

Dustin smiled, but his eyes told a different story. Anger? Annoyance? Something still simmered behind them. Newton distracted himself by placing the order.

“And don’t be memorizing that credit card number, Newt.” Dustin kept his eyes on the road and spoke without swearing. Profanity usually flowed from his mouth like a faucet on full. It was part of his larger-than-life personality. The fact that he was holding back, that was the biggest red flag of all.

–  3  –

If Dustin and Richard had left the afterparty at Pyckman Quarry in a wheelbarrow, they would not have remembered. Newton had limited himself to two beers, which he drank early in the evening, and chased them down with a lot of fried chicken. As it turned out, not many who turned out for the party had wanted to eat chicken. Take-out boxes and torn bags filled with partially eaten food littered the parking lot.

The food and passage of time meant that Newton was sober when the three of them left the quarry in the wee hours of Saturday morning. Dustin and Richard were both drunk and high. Newton suspected marijuana from the number of bongs he had seen at the party. Any other recreational drugs thrown into the mix was anyone’s guess. He had steered clear.

The only impairment Newton faced was his body’s thirst for sleep. His body would win, and soon. Getting everyone home in one piece was the order of the day, or in this case, morning.

Before the party, all three had agreed that they’d crash at Richard’s afterward because his house was closest to the quarry. With great difficulty, Newton poured Dustin and Richard into the back seat of the Escalade and dug the keys out of Dustin’s pocket.

“You tryin’ to give me a handy, Newt?” Dustin slurred his words with a slack-eyed grin.

Newton ignored him, closed the passenger door, and climbed behind the wheel. The Escalade felt huge, what he imagined driving a tank would feel like.

He had started learning to drive the previous September, earning his G1 license quite quickly. But driving his two friends home that night would break several laws, the biggest one being on the road between midnight and 5am.

Newton took out his phone, all ready to text his parents, then jammed it back into his pocket. In this case it would be better to ask for forgiveness than for permission if shit hit the fan. If he drove the speed limit without drawing attention to himself, he wouldn’t have to ask for either.

Fifteen tense minutes later, with Newton’s nerves on high alert for any sign of police, he rolled the Escalade to a stop in Richard’s driveway. Breathing a sigh of relief, Newton killed the engine and texted home that he’d be staying at Richard’s for the night.

“Good party?” Teigan texted back.

“Was OK. Super tired tho.” Newton’s thumbs typed in a frenzy even though he was exhausted.

“Want a pickup tomorrow? If so, when?”

“Let u kno, k?”

Teigan sent back a thumbs up.

The lights in Richard’s house were still on, but not out of concern. Divorced from his wife Charlie for most of Richard’s life, Peter Baum was a night owl who liked to watch porn on his big screen TV. Newton would never forget the sleepover at Richard’s house during Grade 9 when he accidentally wandered into the living room at three o’clock in the morning and saw Peter masturbating in his La-Z-Boy. Peter had no idea he had been caught; his headphones had blocked Newton’s surprised gasp. There were few things more cringey than seeing your best friend’s dad jerking off to porn.

Newton had long suspected that Peter had a porn addiction. He also believed the constant exposure to porn had warped Richard’s view of flirting, dating, and dealing with teenage social situations in general. Both subjects were cans of worms that would forever remain unopened.

Newton knocked on the door to Richard’s house. The flickering lights inside the house from the TV stopped and he heard stumbling and a broken dish. After what seemed like a curiously long time, Peter came to the door wearing a housecoat.

Jesus Christ, he’s going to flash me.

It was the first thought into Newton’s head. He choked back the nervous laughter in the back of his throat.

“Newton!” Peter said. “Good to see yah. I thought you guys were going to be out all night.”

I bet you did.

“No, Mr. Baum. Richard and Dustin are a little wasted. Well, a lot. I thought it’d be better to get them home safe.”

Peter glanced at the Escalade parked in the driveway. Newton saw what he thought of as disappointment creep across the man’s face.

After another awkwardly long pause, Newton continued. “Uh, can you help me get them inside?”

Peter snapped out of whatever thoughts he was having. “Yeah, yeah.”

Newton opened the passenger door and grabbed Dustin by the shoulder. He groaned but didn’t wake. Peter took the other arm and directed him inside. To Newton’s surprise, Dustin’s legs partially worked but doubted that he’d be able to support himself.

“Bag any tasty chicks?” Peter looked at Newton over Dustin’s hanging head.

Newton returned an uncomfortable glance. “You’ll have to ask them in the morning.”

“No, I meant you.”

Newton shook his head without making eye contact. “Not unless you count Mary Brown’s Chicken.”

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to be a teenager again,” Peter said. “There’s some fuckable girls at Diamond Bay, that’s for sure.”

How is this guy for real?

The man hadn’t changed since Newton first met him over six years ago.

They dropped Dustin on Richard’s bed, and a few minutes later, Richard took the spot next to him.

“Are you crashing here, too?” Peter asked. “I mean, that’s totally okay.”

 “I was hoping to.” Newton looked back at Richard and Dustin snoring on Richard’s bed. “For just a few hours.”

“Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Newton locked the Escalade and returned to the house. Peter held out a blanket and a pillow.

“You can take the couch if you want.”

The thought of sleeping anywhere in Peter’s “love den” gave Newton the creeps. “I’ll take the floor.”

Peter gave him a questioning look that seemed to say, “You’re crazy.”

“I’ll be asleep so fast the floor won’t make any difference.”

“Suit yourself.”

Newton spread out the blanket on the floor at the foot of Richard’s bed and wrapped himself in it. Despite the lack of a mattress, sleep took hold within minutes. He dreamed of the police pulling him over and throwing him in jail for reckless driving.

–  4  –

The sound of the jail door slamming closed and locking woke Newton with a start. It was a little after nine in the morning. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. Then he caught the scent of coffee and bacon wafting from the kitchen and his dream of being arrested melted away.

That was Peter’s thing. Coffee and bacon. Newton wasn’t sure if it was an everyday occurrence, or just something Peter did on the mornings after sleepovers to make it seem like he was a cool dad. It only partially worked. The morning bacon feasts were one of his only redeeming traits. Peter would never be truly cool.

Newton imagined his dad making waffles back home and texted his mom for a pickup. As much as he liked coffee and bacon, he liked weekend waffles more.

Newton stared at the ceiling, mottled with water stains. He was glad he had spread out half of the blanket on the floor the previous night. The dirt and dust under Richard’s bed had collected in fuzzy layers.

Richard had the most difficult life out of the three of them. One parental income hit hard. Hanging out at school or at parties, it mattered less where each of them came from than where they were going. But in all the time he had known Richard, Newton had never felt at ease in Richard’s house.

The coffee and bacon did their job and made his stomach rumble, but it was the desperate need to pee that got Newton off the floor. Richard and Dustin were still dead to the world. He contemplated taking a photo of them sleeping in the same bed so he could make jokes later, but thought better of it. Conveniently still in the clothes from the previous night, he made his way to the bathroom.

In his head, Newton heard Dustin’s voice: “Drain the vein. Make the bladder gladder.” It was one of his dumb sayings that actually made sense.

After washing his hands, he entered the kitchen to see Peter shovel a huge pile of cooked bacon off a baking sheet and into a bowl containing even more cooked bacon. The quantities seemed a little insane.

“Help yourself,” Peter said.

Newton thanked him and had eaten two pieces of bacon when he spotted a collection of balled-up tissues next to Peter’s La-Z-Boy. He thought of what he must have interrupted last night and immediately lost his appetite.

Peter furrowed his brow at him. “You okay?”

“Still a little queasy.” It was mostly a lie, but the tissues tipped the scales.

“Right.” Peter nodded. “Grease and hangovers. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Newton felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He had set up a custom vibration for every member of his family and knew that his mom had arrived. He breathed a sigh of relief and waited for the doorbell.

–  5  –

Teigan parked her white Nissan Pathfinder behind Dustin’s Escalade and found herself wondering what Newton thought of his friends driving expensive cars like that. As far as she was concerned, a luxury SUV didn’t belong in the hands of a seventeen year old. What made it worse: Dustin hadn’t earned it. He had been given everything he ever wanted on a silver platter.

Newton hadn’t been interested in driving until recently, but it still wasn’t much of an interest. He was content being an expert on the HSR (Hamilton Street Railway). Common buses had replaced the streetcars and trolley busses back in 1992. But things change, and once Newton found a steady girlfriend, Teigan suspected a driver’s license would soon become a priority.

Teigan took a swig of coffee from her travel mug, ignoring the pleas of her bladder, and texted Newton. “Extraction team in place. Stand by.”

She pocketed her phone. Richard’s house was one story with no basement. The exterior needed a new coat of paint, and the detached garage looked like it had been added several years after the main dwelling had been built. The last time she had seen the garage door open, it had been packed to the rafters with crap.

That’s what happens when you don’t have a basement.

Peter had parked his precious 2022 Toyota RAV4 hybrid next to the garage, exposed to the elements. Teigan didn’t think that was a good idea for a vehicle with a battery. In fact, she didn’t think electric vehicles were a good idea at all. They could have her gas-powered SUV when they pried the steering wheel from her cold, dead hands.

The RAV4 was leased. And when Peter traded up to get the “latest and greatest” electric model, he made sure everyone knew about it.

“Want to know how much money I saved this month by not buying gas?” Peter would ask. Nobody cared but he told them anyway, repeatedly if he got the chance. In the words of Shania Twain, one of Teigan’s favourite singers, “that don’t impress me much.”

Teigan rang the doorbell. A moment later, Peter pulled open the door. He wore a ratty and stained housecoat with a torn tissue hanging from one of the pockets. His legs were bare, except for socks with holes big enough for multiple toes. His housecoat hung open in a loose “V,” exposing a smattering of gray curling chest hair. Teigan didn’t like chest hair as a rule but thinning chest hair seemed somehow worse. His bare chest meant that he wasn’t wearing a shirt either. For a fleeting second Teigan thought his housecoat would slide open and scar her for life.

Then the smell hit her, a wall of bacon that nearly made her gag. Subtle bacon smells were good, welcomed even, but when you come away greasy without touching or eating anything, not so much.

“Teigs! Lookin’ good!” Peter flashed his brows. “Come in.” He stepped aside and swept his arm toward the dark interior of the house. He had started calling her “Teigs” back when Newton was in Grade 6 and had just become friends with Richard. For some reason, he had linked her name to Cheryl Teigs, a supermodel popular in the ’70s and ’80s, and it stuck. Teigan hated the comparison.

“Thanks, but I really can’t stay,” Teigan said. “Pick up only.”

“Come on. How about a coffee and some bacon?”

Teigan swallowed hard against her repulsion. “Well—”

“Hey, Mom.” Newton gave her an urgent look, definitely ready to go.

That makes two of us.

“Actually, can I use your bathroom?”

“For sure,” Peter said. “You remember the way? Straight ahead, right, then left.”

“I remember.” But even if Teigan hadn’t remembered, Peter’s house had a layout that held no secrets. You knew where everything was from the front door. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to reacquaint herself with the floor plan, especially if she needed to revisit the house later. Even with an eidetic memory, refreshing the details made the memories more vivid.

Teigan strolled past the living room, which was partially sunken and carpeted with hideous blue shag. An immense La-Z-Boy recliner sat directly in front of a large screen TV. Balled tissues littered the carpet.

“That’s an eighty-five inch screen,” Peter called out as she walked. “OLED. Got it at Costco.”

I don’t give a shit.

Most of the walls were bare. Those that weren’t held photos with dumb pithy sayings, as if someone had printed out a bunch of bad memes and hung them up. Except at the end of the hall. A family portrait had been hung there; Peter, Richard, and a woman that Teigan assumed must have been Peter’s wife at one time. He had never mentioned her name in the six years that Newton had known Richard. To the left of the portrait were two bedrooms. To the right was the laundry room and bathroom. She entered, closed the door, and did her business.

After washing up, she peeked into the medicine cabinet. Teigan had read recently that four out of five people snooped that and she was one of them. There was nothing unexpected, except for the tubes of Preparation H and Astroglide. What a combination.

Teigan peeked back down the hall and saw Peter in the kitchen laying raw bacon onto a cooking sheet. She crossed to the two bedroom doors.

The first room contained a queen bed with strewn sheets, a dresser, and a mound of laundry in the corner, presumably dirty. The small window on the back wall provided barely enough light to cut through the darkness.

Teigan moved on to the second room. In terms of layout, it was a mirrored carbon copy of the first. Posters, an even mix of rock and roll and scantily clad women, covered the walls. Classy was not the first word to come to mind. Richard and Dustin lay asleep on the bed, or so it first appeared.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?” a voice said.

Teigan squinted into the gloom of the bedroom and saw that Dustin was staring directly at her, scanning her from head to toe. She turned and headed back down the hall.

“Aw, come back,” Dustin called back, barely audible now. “Take care of my...”

Teigan froze.

Did he just say, “early morning wood”?

Whatever it was, she was sure it was inappropriate.

“Sure you can’t stay?” Peter grinned at her and ran his greasy fingers through his prematurely white hair, which had been thinning and receding in uneven patches for some time.

“Afraid not,” Teigan said. “Maybe next time.”

“Take some for the road.” Peter collected some bacon and began to wrap it in paper towel. “How’s business going? Sales trickling in from your little venture?”

During the pandemic, Teigan had started a drop-shipping business from home, selling cool gadgets and toys that people couldn’t do without. It caught on and now earned more than her previous accounting job. And it certainly wasn’t a trickle.

 “Business is great,” Teigan said. “I anticipate a quarter million in sales by the end of the fourth quarter.” She had exaggerated the numbers to make him envious.

“That so?” Peter said. “I’ve got this great idea for a product. I could build it for cheap and make millions. But I better not say too much. You might pounce on it. Or maybe I could license the idea to you and you could make and sell it. It’d be a win-win.” He winked at her. Peter was not the brain trust of Cherry Mills, that was certain.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Peter handed her a toweled pouch of bacon, the grease already soaking through. “You could use a little...” He let his eyes roam. “Curves on your curves.”

Teigan bit her tongue and took the greasy packet, wishing she was wearing gloves. “Thanks.” She made a hasty exit and found Newton waiting in the car.

“What took you so long?”

“Peter began to talk.” Teigan handed the wrapped bacon to Newton.

“I don’t want it.”

Teigan looked around, then set it on the console between the seats. “He told me I needed curves on my curves.”

“What the hell, Mom. He said that?”

Teigan nodded, started the SUV, and backed out onto the road. “Is that what you call skinny-shaming?”

“I don’t know,” Newton said. “The guy’s an asshole.” He looked at his mother and shrugged. “Sorry, but he is.”

“Is Richard like that?”

Newton paused to think, then shook his head. “No.” He rolled down his window, took the wrapped bacon, and tossed it out.

“Read my mind.”

Teigan and Newton drove home with all the windows open, their stomachs primed for weekend waffles.

–  6  –

Everything began to change after the “Mary Brown Incident.” Dustin offered Newton minimal interaction in and out of school. Most of the time it was the cold shoulder. When he did pay attention to Newton, a slow character assassination among his peers was Dustin’s end game. And he was exceptionally good at it.

During an English presentation in front of the whole class, Newton made the mistake of trying to break the ice with a relevant joke.

“Saying ‘I’m sorry’ is the same as saying ‘I apologize,’ ” Newton said. “Except at a funeral.”

The teacher and a couple of students chuckled but the rest of the class barely responded. They were watching the clock, waiting for the weekend to begin.

“You better apologize for that joke,” Dustin said from the back of the room, inducing snickers from other students. “Because we’re not laughing with you. We’re laughing at you.”

The dig got more reaction than Newton’s original joke and threw off his concentration, which pleased Dustin to no end.

Afterward, Elise found Newton standing at his locker with his forehead resting on the door. “Hey Newt. You okay?”

Newton sighed, opened his locker, and collected a few books to place in his backpack. “It’s nothing.”

Elise positioned herself so that she could make eye contact with him. “Bruh, who do you think you’re talking to?”

Newton remained tight-lipped.

“It was Dustbin, wasn’t it?” Dustbin. That was Elise’s nickname for him.

Newton looked at her. “Right, as always.”

“What happened this time?”

It was hard for Newton to get the words out. “He embarrassed me in English class.”

Elise regarded him with concern and kindness. “Why are you friends with that jerk?”

“I don’t know. He just worked his way into my life.”

“Like a parasite,” Elise said. “He’s a sociopath. You know that, right?”

Newton closed the padlock on his locker. “Whatever.”

“Elise!” Haislee bounded toward them from down the hallway.

Elise waved at her. “I got to go, but remember this, big brother.” She poked at his chest with an index finger. “You’re a good guy. And Dustbin’s an asshole. Don’t you forget it.” She skipped toward Haislee and Newton watched them go. A subdued smile rose on his face.

Haislee leaned in. “What’s up with Newt?”

“Nothing.” Elise didn’t make it a habit to gossip, especially about her brother. Haislee would have had a field day with it. “Let’s go.”

Haislee spun around, took enough steps backward to send a quick wave to Newton, then completed her three-sixty. Both girls disappeared around a corner and out of sight.

As the weeks wound down toward the end of the school year, Richard avoided Newton more and more. By the time Grade 11 wrapped up, Newton found himself cut off from the best friend he had known for six years. To add salt to the wound, Dustin invited Richard to spend the summer with him at his uncle’s place in Los Angeles.

“I’m gonna get you laid, dude. Pop your cherry on a hot California chick,” Dustin told Richard on the last day of class. “Guaranteed one hundred percent.” He made sure to say it within earshot of Newton, just to rub it in a bit more. Newton knew it was mostly unreliable Dustin bullshit, but it still hurt. Not seeing Richard for the entire summer was going to hurt more.

His job at Baskin-Robbins became welcome distraction. He took on as many shifts as he could manage. Maybe I’ll find a girlfriend over the summer, Newton thought. That’ll show them.

The weeks flew by. Newton greeted regular customers eagerly, even remembering some of their favourite ice cream flavors. There was one girl that he was particularly smitten by: Juniper Thompson (he had consulted his Grade 10 yearbook to determine her last name.)

Juniper wore her brunette hair in a ponytail and rarely wore makeup. That didn’t matter to Newton. He already thought she was a knockout.

If the store wasn’t busy, Newton would sit with Juniper at one of the small circular tables lining the front window. She’d eat her ice cream cone (cookies and cream), and he’d watch her eat it. Their conversation came easy but never got too deep. He desperately wanted to ask her out on a date, to a movie or a picnic, anything really. But he couldn’t find the nerve to follow through. By the end of August, Newton wondered if they would ever move out of the friend zone.

To make matters worse, Dustin and Richard showed up at the store on the Friday evening before Labour Day. The pretentious rumble of his Escalade alerted Newton of their arrival.

“Didn’t know you guys were back,” Newton said. “How was L.A.?”

Dustin scanned the tubs of ice cream behind the freezer glass, working his way toward the end where Juniper and Newton stood. “Two months of sex, drugs, and rock and roll.” He slapped Richard’s shoulder. “Even Dick dipped his wick, ain’t that right?”

Richard laughed and nodded. Newton couldn’t tell if he was playing along or putting on a show for Dustin.

Newton gave Juniper a look of embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

Dustin leered at Juniper, then at her ice cream cone. “Cookies and cream, huh?” He leaned onto the freezer’s countertop. “So, Newt, have you filled her cookie with cream yet?”

Richard averted his eyes and said nothing.

Juniper scowled at Dustin. “Perv.” She backed away from the freezer and made a beeline for the door.

“Juniper!” Newton ran out from behind the counter and caught up to her in the parking lot outside. “Sorry about that. Dustin’s gross.”

“Get some better friends, Newton.” Juniper walked away.

“They’re...” Newton choked on his words. “They’re not my friends,” he whispered. The truth was out, if only to himself.

When Newton returned to the store, he saw that Dustin had helped himself to a bowl of ice cream. That meant he had gone behind the counter, an area off limits to customers.

“You guys need to leave.” Newton shot an angry look back and forth between Dustin and Richard. “Right now.”

Dustin licked his plastic spoon. “Cookies and cream’s pretty fuckin’ good.” He slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter and strolled to the exit. “Come again!” He threw his half-eaten bowl of ice cream in the garbage and left. Richard followed close behind, avoiding Newton’s gaze.

The Labour Day long weekend came and went. Newton sent a text to Richard and asked if he wanted to hang out, maybe play some video games. Usually, at least before this past summer, Richard responded to his texts right away. Now it took hours, if he responded at all. He knew Dustin was probably behind the delays but couldn’t prove anything. Newton’s attempts to sort things out with Juniper failed too. His texts remained unanswered. It appeared that she had ghosted him.

Monday, the night before the first day of Grade 12, Newton lay in bed, his frustration and anger mounting. Most days, he could rein it in and distract himself. But not today. He had been punished for something that wasn’t his fault and the casualty had been Juniper’s friendship, something that had grown strong over the summer, at least he thought so.

Dustin Stoaks strikes again.

Newton’s anger got the better of him. “FUUUUCK!” He picked up the nearest object within reach, a Magic 8 Ball from his headboard, and threw it hard across the room. Scooping ice cream had given him muscles he didn’t know he had.

The Magic 8 Ball struck the opposite wall and left a considerable dent in the drywall. He had expected the toy to shatter. That would have been very satisfying and would have gone a long way to diffusing his rage. But it just rolled out of the crater in the wall and dropped to the floor.

“Can’t even do THAT right.” Newton sprang off the bed and grabbed the black plastic sphere. Navy blue dye seeped out of the side through a crack that spanned one side. It had already collected in a dark pool on the laminate flooring, probably staining it permanently, and now an expanding blue blotch marked his hand.

“Goddammit!” Newton ran downstairs to the garage, leaving a trail of blue drops behind him. He grabbed a hammer and placed the Magic 8 Ball on the driveway. Out of curiosity, he turned the ball over to read his final fortune.

“Outlook not so good,” the window in the bottom reported.

Newton grumbled and shook the ball, spreading blue ink drops all over his hand and the concrete around him. He turned the ball over again.

“Outlook not so good.”

He shook the toy again, causing more ink to drip down his arm. Same message. Impacting the wall in his room had jammed the fortune.

“You’re terminated, fucker.” Newton placed the Magic 8 Ball on the driveway and brought the hammer down on the top of it as hard as he could.

The existing crack on the side of the sphere gave way to the secret chamber inside holding the ink, exploding it in a shower of navy blue drops.

“Newt?” It was Teigan. She stood on the porch in front of the house. “What—”

“Mom?” Elise bounded from the front door and stopped short, narrowly avoiding bumping into Teigan from behind. “What the... What happened?”

Teigan narrowed her eyes at Elise and shook her head once. Message received loud and clear.

Newton sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean it up.”

“There’s some drops inside, too.” Teigan tried to make eye contact, but Newton wasn’t having any of it. “Want some help?”

“I said I’d clean it up.” He hadn’t raised his voice but spoke sternly enough to make sure there was no misunderstanding.

Teigan and Elise retreated into the house. Newton collected the convex remnants of the Magic 8 Ball and dropped them in the garbage. Then he unwound the garden hose from the side of the house and washed away the ink.

A stain remained. Of course it did.

“Fuck my life.” Newton found a scrub brush and managed to scour most of the blue ink out of the concrete. He recoiled the hose, returned the hammer, and retraced the path he had taken from his room.

Newton discovered that Teigan had already cleaned up most of the drips. He poked his head into the living room where Teigan, Mattix, and Elise were all watching television. “Thanks, Mom.”

Teigan smiled at him and nodded. “I bet a shower would feel nice.”

“Good idea.” Newton climbed the stairs to the bathroom he shared with Elise. He closed the door and looked at himself in the mirror. Blue ink dots covered his face, as if he had radioactive freckles. He sighed, undressed, and stepped into the shower.

The warm water on his skin did feel nice. Plus this meant he wouldn’t have to shower in the morning. He could relax a bit before leaving for the first day of his last high school year. Moms just know.

Newton stepped out of the shower. The ink stains on his hands looked a little lighter but it would be a while before they were completely gone. And that could only mean...

Using his towel, Newton cleared the mirror of condensation and, to his horror, discovered that the blue ink dots on his face remained. He washed his face until it was red and raw. The dots remained.

Lesson learned. Smashing a Magic 8 Ball is bad Karma. Newton put on his pajamas and went to bed early. Maybe the whole long weekend had been a dream, or more accurately a nightmare, and all he had to do was sleep it away.

But it wasn’t a dream. The dots on his face were still there in the morning. At the breakfast table, everyone noticed, especially Elise, but no one said a word, even though Newton could tell that questions and suggestions were on the tips of their tongues.

He skipped breakfast, grabbed his backpack, and left the house without saying goodbye. Newton considered riding his bicycle, but walking would take longer, delaying the inevitable onslaught of mockery by his so-called friends. He felt like he was walking to his own execution, and in a way, he was.

–  7  –

Choosing to walk to Diamond Bay High School had been a mistake. It would have been better for Newton to ride his bicycle and face things head on. That was the way he was with most things. Rip the Band-Aid off the situation. But his worries won out. The stains on his hands and face felt permanent, even though he knew the thought was ridiculous. Instead of feeling excited about the new year, his brain rolled through undesirable scenarios all the way there. All of them led by Dustin.

That jackass holds too much space in my head rent free.

Diamond Bay sat on twelve acres of land smack in the middle of Cherry Mills. Norway Maple and Eastern White Pine lined the school grounds in sparse copses. The two-story brick and mortar building stretched the length of the grounds, with no extra room for a track or soccer field. Some argued that was a good thing. Newton was one of them. He preferred indoor sports.

Built in the late 1960s, Diamond Bay served between 700 and 1,000 students and had gone through two renovations in its lifetime, the last in 2004. After almost twenty years of use, exterior bricks had cracked and internal structures had “exceeded their expected useful life” (as reported in the school newspaper the previous year.) There was little doubt the school was due for a huge face-lift.

Newton was glad he wouldn’t be around to see it. University or college was in his future. If the renovations actually happened, no doubt he’d hear all about it from Elise.

He followed Edgerton Street as it curved north, residential homes on one side and the Cherry Mills Community Forest on the other. No matter what the Cherry Mills town council did to make the forest more inviting, it always gave Newton the creeps, especially in fall and winter when the lack of foliage made the trees look like skeletal hands reaching up from the grave.

Ahead, he could see Diamond Bay’s red brick exterior and its large steel lattice portico supported by two large concrete pillars. Students collected in groups in front of the main doors and spilled out onto the front lawn.

Newton felt his stomach tighten. He pulled out his phone and with an ink-stained hand composed a selfie. Zooming into the photo, the constellation of blue spots on his face remained as unchanging as the stars in the night sky.

What was I thinking? That they’d magically have faded away?

Newton pocketed his phone and continued onward. No point in delaying his fate any longer than necessary. His thoughts floated back to a summer with Juniper. Most of it, except that last day, had been good. Great, in fact. He liked her and he was certain she liked him back. The brief encounter last Friday couldn’t have destroyed all that, could it? The thought bolstered his resolve.

He broke from the sidewalk and cut across the lawn toward the front entrance of the school. He thought he heard whispers already and did his best to ignore them.

Juniper stood with a couple of her friends near the bank of entrance doors. He waved, his blue hand instantly forgotten and out for all to see. She raised her hand slightly, as if to return the greeting, when—

“Hey Newt.” On the opposite side of the entrance stood Dustin, Richard, and a couple other students Newton only had vague memories of. Dustin and his entourage hadn’t been on Newton’s radar when he had approached the school, so they must have begun following him at some point.

Dustin sauntered over and slapped his hand on Newton’s shoulder. “How’s it hanging?”

Newton shook him off. “Good.”

“Good?” Dustin took a closer look at Newton’s face. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Newton shot a look at Richard and caught a smirk on his former friend’s face as he cast his eyes to the ground.

Dustin gave Newton a visual once-over. “What’s up with your hands... and your face, despite being ugly as fuck?”

Here it comes.

“You been giving Papa Smurf a handy?” Laughter rose up from Dustin’s fans, egging him on.

Newton decided his best strategy was to not give Dustin an audience. He glanced at Juniper and saw that she, her friends, and everyone in the immediate area were now watching the show, most starved for entertainment. Some even had their phones out in anticipation. But not Juniper. She had a sorrowful look on her face.

Dustin caught the exchange. “Ah, there it is. The hot goss.” He grinned at Juniper, exposing his perfect white teeth. “You poppin’ her blueberry?”

“Shut up,” Newton said through clenched teeth as he folded his arms across his chest.

Dustin returned his attention to Newton. “Or do you got blue balls to match your hands? I hear she’s a frigid bitch. No wonder you scoop ice cream for a living.”

Juniper pulled open one of the doors at the entrance and ran into the school. One of her friends followed her.

Newton grabbed the lapels of Dustin’s leather jacket with both fists and pulled him close. For a moment, fear and surprise flickered in Dustin’s eyes before they fell vacant again.

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?”

 Dustin sneered. “I keep doin’ what works.”

“But you’re too stupid to know when it doesn’t.” Newton pushed Dustin backward and let go. He stumbled and bumped into Richard before regaining his balance.

Newton scanned the impromptu audience with a steely gaze, ending on Richard, then pulled open the front door and walked inside, his head held high. His twelfth year of school had begun and Dustin had failed to get to him as badly as he thought he might.

Fuck the ink stains. They’re temporary. And so is Dustin.

–  8  –

Newton had expected more harassment from Dustin and his little group of followers. To his surprise, he was left alone for the remainder of the first day, despite sharing a few classes with them. Maybe Dustin had wised up and realized that Newton wasn’t going to be pushed around anymore.

Wishful thinking.

Dustin was dumb in some ways, but Newton knew not to underestimate him. He could be devious when he needed to be. Avoidance was the best strategy.

The first day back was always a meet and greet. At his homeroom he was assigned his locker and given a padlock for it. First floor, number 0023. A prime number. Good.

All the Grade 12s had their lockers on the first floor, something about the lower grades having to climb more stairs to get to their things. Membership had its privileges. Newton tested the combination on the padlock a couple of times before finding his locker and securing it.

He joined the bustling crowd of other students as they found their classes for the semester and teachers gave a rundown of what the class would cover. It was also a time to reconnect with friends you hadn’t seen over the summer. That didn’t apply to Newton this year.

With the exception of Juniper, Newton’s dust-up at the front of the school this morning had eliminated any potential friendly conversation. He could relax and play on his phone. His latest obsession: Monopoly Go! His goal was to get as far as possible in the game without spending any real money. But he didn’t let his guard down completely.

The bell rang at noon, followed by end of day announcements. The day always ended at lunch on the first day. He collected his things and made a trip to his locker to deposit the books he had collected during orientation.

As he exited the school, Newton spotted Juniper and a couple of her friends standing near the concrete support for the entrance portico. They didn’t have any common classes, but she was the only person he considered approachable today. Even though she had ghosted him, he still wanted to talk face to face, maybe get a reason why.

He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and waved to get her attention. Juniper looked at him, causing the rest of her friends to look, too. Some of her friends even smiled.

Probably because they know the drama.

Juniper returned a half-hearted wave and leaned in to say something to her friends. They nodded, gave her hugs, and marched away from the school.

Newton jammed his hands into his pockets. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Juniper offered the briefest of glances.

“How was your first day back?”

“Good. You?”

“Good too,” Newton said. “I got Barker for math, so that’s really good.”

“You’re lucky.” Juniper looked back in the direction her friends had left.

“Look, I’m really sorry about what Dustin said this morning,” Newton said. “And for what he said at Baskin-Robbins last week. It was super shitty.”

Juniper avoided making eye contact. “Yeah, it was.”

Their conversation stalled uncomfortably. Newton longed for the ease they’d had before Dustin entered the picture, instead of this awkward exchange.

“Hey, I know I’ve texted you a lot and you haven’t answered.” Newton took a breath. “I just want to know why?”

Juniper finally looked at him, her eyes captivating him as they had all summer, but also holding sorrow. “I’m just not in a good place at the moment. Guy friends are off the table.” She turned to walk away and Newton followed.

“Can I at least call you sometime?”

“No,” Juniper said without stopping.

“I know Dustin’s an ass, but—”

Juniper turned and Newton saw anger on her face instead of sadness. “Just drop it. Okay?” She continued down the walkway and Newton saw her friends emerge from behind a tree near the road.

Newton nodded but she never saw it. He grimaced, his mouth suddenly sour with the taste of anger, even hatred, toward Dustin.

He leaned against the concrete pillar and watched Juniper leave with her friends. The last possible friend option had disintegrated right before his eyes.

Newton was confident he’d make new friends over the coming year, but it would have been so much better to have friends already.

As if the Devil had a conduit to his thoughts, Newton glanced over his shoulder to see Richard standing behind the glass doors to the school, watching him. He was surprised to find that he was alone and for a fleeting moment he thought that Dustin had cast him aside.

Richard pushed through the doors and strolled out toward Edgerton Street.

Maybe Newton had a chance to repair that friendship. They had six years of history behind them. Surely that counted for something. He had to try. Newton followed him.

“Richard,” Newton called out. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Richard ignored him and seemed to quicken his pace.

“Come on, Richard.” Newton matched his pace and walked beside him. “You owe me a—”

Richard stopped and faced him. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Richard’s abruptness surprised him, but Newton continued. “We’ve been friends a long time. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t like who you are anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Richard said. “I’ve seen the way you act at work, the way you flirt with all the girls that come in.”

“I’m just being myself,” Newton said. “I’m just being friendly. Plus, what’s wrong with flirting once in a while?”

“Once in a while? You creep on girls all the time.”

“Creep on... What? That’s bullshit.”

Richard crossed his arms. “Oh really? I saw you with Juniper. Just now. Saw you creeping on her so bad she had to run away to her friends.”

Newton took a step closer. “So you heard our conversation?”

“Didn’t need to,” Richard said. “The creep factor was on full display.”

“Says the guy who hangs around with the biggest creep there is.”

“This has nothing to do with Dustin.”

Newton laughed. “Even you knew who I was talking about.” He looked at Richard for a moment. “You chose that piece of shit over me. Six years of friendship means that little to you?”

Richard stared back at him blankly. “If you stop being yourself, then maybe we still got a chance.” He broke away and strode toward the street. “Have a nice life.”

Newton stood, dumbfounded, and watched him go. The confidence he felt in the morning after standing up to Dustin had evaporated into a mixture of confusion and sadness. However, his feelings were short-lived. No one else had an issue with his behavior except Richard. And even six years of friendship was no reason to change anything about himself. He liked the way he was.

–  9  –

The warmth of the sun had restorative effects. On the walk home from school, Newton couldn’t help but hear Bob Denver’s “Sunshine On My Shoulders” echo in his mind. It had been one of his grandfather’s favourite songs and Pops had played it often when the family came for a visit at Wintergreen Retirement Residence. The lyrics had made an indelible mark in his memories. September heat radiated across his shoulders and, while Newton wasn’t completely happy like in Denver’s song, he wasn’t exactly sad either.

Things are going to be okay.

Newton dug out his headphones from his backpack and started a playlist of 1980s music. Pops had introduced him to songs of the ’60s and ’70s, but it was his parents who had masterfully schooled him on the music of the ’80s.

“Music went downhill after the ’80s,” Mattix and Teigan would tell him often. “Especially after autotune was invented.”

But Newton didn’t take their word as gospel at first. He did his own research, listening to thousands of songs over the past couple of years and developing his own personal taste. There would always be outliers from the ’90s and beyond, but when push came to shove he tended to fall back to music of the ’80s. It was difficult to isolate just one song or band as his favorite.

Elise was the one holdout in the family. She and her friends thrived on music from the Millennium. Newton had no patience for it but as long as they both wore headphones, disaster was averted.

Newton’s headphones blasted Loverboy into his ears. “Working For The Weekend” became his temporary mantra as he rounded the bend in Radcliffe Crescent and saw his house in the distance. His safe space. The beat’s tempo lifted his spirits and inspired him to quicken his pace. His music held a powerful, sometimes unstoppable force.

He could still see the faded blue ghost of his Magic 8 Ball on the driveway. Newton glanced at his hands and reassured himself that the stains on his hands and face were truly temporary.

Newton pushed open the front door. “Yo.”

“Yo, yourself,” Elise said, her voice echoing back from the kitchen.

Newton pulled his headphones to his neck, kicked off his shoes, and dropped his backpack. He noticed there was an extra pair next to Elise’s. Probably Haislee. He made a beeline for the fridge.

“Hey, Haislee.” Newton plucked a carton of orange juice from the fridge door.

Haislee flicked her eyes up and held on him for a second too long, before settling back on what Elise was viewing on her phone. “Hey.”

Newton squeezed the carton’s spout open and raised it to his lips. “Where’s Mom?”

“Up in her office, where else?” Elise glanced up at Newton. “And don’t you dare—”

Newton smirked at her and drank straight from the carton.

“Bruh! Other people drink from that too, you know. Gross.”

Newton wiped his mouth, set the carton down and leaned on the countertop. “Less dishes to wash, right Haislee?”

“Um, right.”

Elise raised an annoyed brow at Haislee. “Whose side are you on?”

“Your’s of course,” Haislee said. “I just don’t want you to get rough, dishwater hands... ’cause... you know.”

The two girls looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Nice.” Newton grinned. “How’d the first day go?”

“Same shit, different year,” Elise said.

“And we got Palmer for math,” added Haislee.

“Damn! Harry Palmer.” Newton laughed. “Beware of that dude.” He raised his hands up and wiggled his fingers, then waved them up and down, mimicking the curves of a woman’s body. “He’s got rushin’ hands and roamin’ fingers.”

“Ew, bruh.” Elise wrinkled her nose up but kept her eyes on her phone. “Did not need to know that.”

“You did.” Newton cast a serious look at them both. “Promise me you’ll report that douche if he touches you in any way.”

“Um...,” Elise began.

“Promise me. Both of you.”

Elise and Haislee met his gaze. “We promise,” they said in unison.

“What about you?” Haislee asked. “Anything interesting happen today?”

“Apparently you guys live under a rock,” Newton said. “Dustin got up in my grill, just before school.”

Finally something more interesting than Elise’s phone. “What happened?”

“Stood my ground. Almost fucked him up.”

Elise gave him a sideways look that said I’ve heard that before. “What does that mean?”

“It means I could have knocked his teeth out, but I pushed him instead. Once.” Newton put the cap back on the orange juice. “I beat him with words. It’s probably all over Insta.”

“What about Richard?” Elise always asked the questions that cut right through all the bullshit.

Newton shook his head. “He made his choice.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged, returned the juice to the fridge, and left the kitchen, headed for the stairs.

Elise called back, “Mom said to take out the garbage.”

Newton sighed and reversed direction back through the kitchen, pulling on his headphones as he went. Through the garage, at the side of the house, sat two rolling bins: the gray one for garbage and the green one for organic waste. He believed they should only have one big garbage bin since it probably all went to the same place anyway.

He rolled the bins to the curb and returned to the side entry to the garage. He opened the interior door from the garage to the house, turned the corner, and bumped into Haislee.

“Jesus Christ, Haze!” He pulled his headphones off. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” She blinked up at him with a quirky, lop-sided smile. “What’re you listening to?”

“Foreigner.”

Haislee shrugged indifference.

“They were huge, like, thirty years ago. Still are.” Newton removed his headphones and placed them on Haislee’s ears. He watched her listen as a sly smile curled at the corner of her lips.

She slid the headphones off and placed them back around Newton’s neck. For a moment it felt like they were at a freshman dance as Haislee let her hands linger lazily on his chest. The smell of whatever shampoo she’d used that day still clung to the earpads.

“A dirty white boy, huh?” Haislee grinned and looked up at him, locking her eyes on his. They held an unmistakable glint that made his stomach buzz in a good yet dangerous way. “Looking for trouble? We should go out, ’cause I got ideas.”

The heat Newton felt was different from what he felt with Juniper, and it scared him. “You’re fifteen.”

“And you’re seventeen,” Haislee said. “Two years is nothing.”

“You’re my sister’s best friend.” He shook his head slowly. “Not gonna happen.”

Haislee broke her gaze and stepped aside. A mixture of embarrassment and anger flushed her cheeks.

“Sorry,” Newton said.

“Whatever.” Haislee looked to the floor.

“Haze?” Elise called from the kitchen. “Where’d you go?”

Newton took one last look at Haislee. “Sorry.” He returned the headphones to his ears and carried on through the kitchen.

Elise stopped him. “Have you seen Haislee?”

Newton pulled one earpad aside. “Huh?”

“Haislee?”

He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. “The bathroom, I think.” Newton climbed the stairs to his room and closed the door.

The earpads of his headphones still held Haislee’s scent. Newton had known for a while that Haislee liked him more than just as the brother of her best friend. This was the first time she had let her true feelings show in such an overt way and that had taken guts. But he had to shut her down and risk upsetting her because it was the right thing to do.

Or was it?

–  10  –

Elise raised her phone. “I found the video Newt was talking about.”

Haislee stood next to the bathroom door and looked a little flushed. Elise noticed right away.

“Haze? You okay?”

Haislee straightened herself up and ran her fingers through her blond hair. “Yeah, just felt a little crampy.”

“Shit. Want something for it?”

Haislee shook her head. “I think I’m good for now.”

“Okay.” Elise led the way back to the kitchen. “You gotta watch this. It’s sick.” She laid her phone down on the counter and pressed play.

The Instagram video showed Dustin and Newton in front of Diamond Bay High School, with a bunch of onlookers surrounding them, one of them Richard. The sound quality was awful. They could barely make out the words but luckily their actions spoke louder.

Elise singled Richard out in the background. “There’s Weak Dick.” She had come up with Richard’s nickname back before summer holidays began.

Haislee nodded and managed a small, forced smile. But Elise was too focused on her phone to see it this time.

The handheld video showed Dustin getting in Newton’s face, Newton pushing back, then turning to enter the school.

“Wait.” Haislee dragged her finger across the screen to scrub playback, then let the video play again. “Who’s that? Looks like he’s talking to her, too. Or about her.”

“Dustbin?”

“Yeah. Who is that?”

Elise scrubbed back and pinch-zoomed the screen. “I don’t know.”

“Send it to me.” Haislee scrutinized the video. “If he wasn’t so cringey, he’d almost be fuckable.”

“Who? Dustbin?” Elise’s jaw dropped. “Bruh! You did not just say that.”

Haislee shrugged. “On looks alone, maybe.”

“No.” Elise shook her head and placed her hands on Haislee’s shoulders. “Just no.”

“You’re biased though. We got to keep our options open.”

“Dustbin is not an option,” Elise said. “Even if he was, which he isn’t, I’d never be able to look at Newt again. Neither would you.”

Haislee fell silent for a moment. “Lise, I think I better go.”

“Cramps again?”

“Yeah.” Haislee grabbed her backpack and her purse and headed for the front door. Elise followed her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Elise said. “Who’s Palmer gonna hit on first?”

“Not us.” Haislee pulled Elise in for a hug. She cast her gaze to Newton’s closed bedroom door on the second floor. “Love you,” she said softly.

“Love you, too.” Elise stepped back and pulled open the door. Haislee stepped out onto the porch, then to the driveway. She turned to wave and Elise waved back.

Elise returned to the kitchen and picked up her phone. She watched the video one more time, at Dustin, Newton, and the mystery girl in the background.

She could ask Newton who the girl was. He must know. This girl seemed to be part of whatever had been said this morning. But now was not the time.

Elise forwarded the video to Haislee’s Instagram account. If anyone could figure out who that girl was, it’d be Haislee.

–  11  –

Haislee’s house was part way down Tipperary Street, only two blocks away from Elise’s. Without a back alley running between the row of yards, getting back and forth between houses took longer than it should.

When away from home or running an errand, her dad (and occasionally her grandfather) always joked that it was “a long way to Tipperary, to the sweetest girl I know.” The song had been made famous by marching British soldiers in the First World War. She had always thought the song was silly and embarrassing (especially her dad’s tone deaf rendition) until recently when she looked it up. Soldiers sang the song to help them remain connected to where their home and families waited for their return. Approaching her sixteenth birthday had given her a deeper understanding.

Always a latchkey kid, Haislee unlocked her front door, stepped inside, and locked it behind her. She immediately texted her family message group that she was home.

Her mom, Grace, sent back a thumbs up, then added, “Homework?”

Haislee texted back, “None. 1st day.” But that wasn’t entirely true. The little red notification above the Instagram app icon showed a “1.” That meant homework of a different kind, the kind she liked best.

Haislee didn’t refer to herself as a tech goddess, but lots of other people did. Elise was one of them, and it wasn’t without merit. She knew her way around computers and smart phones. Her tech knowledge would make the members of the Audio/Visual squad at school get down on their knees and proclaim, “We’re not worthy!” Everyone knew it was a joke, but really it wasn’t. Haislee walked the walk.

As expected, the video she had watched at Elise’s house was sitting waiting for her in her Instagram inbox. She clicked play and watched, but the audio from her iMac speakers sounded tinny. She grabbed her Sennheiser headphones, plugged them in and threw them over her ears. Her memory flashed back to her recent interaction with Newton, but she pushed forward, scrubbed the video back to the beginning and let it play.

After a couple of viewings, Haislee paused the video on a frame with the best view of the mystery girl. She captured the screen and called up Google Lens. After cropping the image to remove everything except the girl’s face, she let Google Lens do its thing.

Dozens of images flashed up alongside the image. All were close, but none were an exact match.

Haislee returned her attention to the original video and looked at the comments. As she scrolled, she could see the scales tipped in Newton’s favour. That didn’t surprise her. Newton was a good guy. The comments didn’t offer much else.

She returned to the video and played it again, this time keeping her eyes closed to help her focus on what she was hearing. Still, the ambient noise overpowered the dialogue between Newton and Dustin.

Haislee saved the video to her iMac, stripped off the audio into a separate file, and loaded it into Audacity, her favourite audio processing software. She tried using a collection of filters to remove the noise while leaving the conversation intact, but it didn’t work at all. The audio frequencies of the conversation were too close to the ambient noise and the filters ended up removing everything. This wasn’t a Hollywood movie where they had a magical enhance button.

As much as Haislee knew about software and technology, sometimes going old school was the best alternative. She dug into her bookcase, pulled out her Diamond Bay 2022 yearbook, and scrutinized the Grade 11 student pages one photo at a time.

The photos were small, about the size of a passport photo, twenty-five to a page. The detail in the face was scant but enough for identification. Newton’s photo jumped out at her immediately.

She refreshed her memory on the girl’s image, but page after page resulted in no match remotely similar.

The odds of finding a match dwindled page by page. Still, Haislee continued her search. She was nothing if not thorough. The notion that the girl might be new to the school this year was not lost on her, but she had to be sure.

Haislee flipped to the last page, and there, in the middle row, ironically under Dustin’s photo, was the girl in the video.

Juniper Thomas.

Juniper had short purple hair in her yearbook photo, which contrasted with the long dark (Brown? Black?) hair in the video. The cropped and enlarged image from the video had pixelated the details.

Haislee searched Instagram and found Juniper’s public profile. She scrolled through the images and found them typical of most teenage girls, including herself. Then she landed on one of her sitting and eating an ice cream cone in Baskin-Robbins. Haislee recognized the store’s decor and the parking lot layout through the window behind Juniper.

“That’s at Main Eats,” Haislee whispered to herself, despite being in her room alone with the door closed.

That Instagram post had multiple photos. Haislee swiped through them. Most were variations of the first, with Juniper laughing, having what looked like a good time. The last photo stole her breath like a sucker punch. She heard herself gasp.

There on the screen of her iMac was a selfie of Juniper and Newton, heads together, both smiling, both eating ice cream. Juniper wasn’t looking at the camera, but at Newton.

Haislee knew what a look like that meant. Instead of the thrill of winning a hunt, instead of surprise, Haislee felt anger, jealousy, rage even, as she narrowed her eyes at Juniper’s face.

Haislee’s phone chimed. A text from Elise flashed on the screen.

“Hey grrrl! Who’s the girl?” her text read. Haislee stared at Elise’s text long enough for Elise to follow up. “Haze?”

Haislee tapped, “No idea. Must be new.” Her thumb hovered over “Send” for a second before hitting the button. A swoosh and a “Delivered” notification confirmed it.

“Wanna hang out later?”

“Still crampy,” Haislee texted.

“❤️ Hugz. Call me l8r.”

Haislee gave Elise’s text a thumbs up and tossed her phone aside. She wasn’t sure why she had lied to her best friend, except that there must be more to the story. She wanted answers.

–  12  –

Two weeks later, the incident between Newton and Dustin had faded from the memory of most students at Diamond Bay. Haislee had bookmarked the video and rewatched it a few times since, trying to decipher what Newton and Dustin were talking about. The video itself was no longer an obsession. But there was something connecting Dustin, Juniper, and Newton, and her curiosity kept gnawing at her.

Haislee exchanged a few books at her locker and headed to her last class of the day, Math with Palmer. The best part of the class was sitting in the back with Elise and thinking of ways to raise shit without getting caught.

She spotted Juniper heading down the stairs toward an exit. Curiosity sprinkled with leftover jealousy convinced her to follow. She wouldn’t miss much of Math class, and what she did miss she’d get from Elise. They covered for each other.

Juniper was already out of the school and halfway to Edgerton Street. Was she in a hurry or just a fast walker?

Haislee ran to catch up. “Hey.”

Juniper turned to see this unfamiliar student jogging toward her.

“Are you Juniper?”

Unfamiliarity switched to caution. “Yeah.” Juniper sharpened her glare. “Who are you?”

“I’m Haislee... Kirkland. I’m in Grade 10.”

Juniper gave her the once-over, then turned to continue on her way.

“I... I’m friends with Elise,” Haislee said. “Sister to Newton. Newton Coleman.”

Juniper turned back. “What do you want?”

“I saw that video, from the first day of school,” Haislee said. “You know the one?”

Juniper stepped closer. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what Dustin said that upset you.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“I know you and Newton are friends,” Haislee said. “I thought maybe I could help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“But I—”

“Look...” Juniper trailed off as her eyes focused on the parking lot behind Haislee.

She turned to see what Juniper was looking at and saw Dustin leaning against his black Escalade in the student parking lot.

Juniper poked Haislee’s shoulder to get her attention. “It’s not safe. And stay away from him.” Her eyes flicked at Dustin, then she continued toward Edgerton.

“Wait.” Haislee took a step to follow, then stopped. She glanced over her shoulder to see Dustin lumbering toward her. She had heard enough about Dustin from Elise to know to steer clear of him. But Dustin intercepted her halfway to the school’s entrance.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“You’ve probably seen me with Elise Coleman... I’m Haislee.”

Dustin smiled warmly but the way his eyes floated over her cranked up his cringe factor.

Haislee narrowed her eyes at him. “You must know who I was talking to, right?”

Dustin nodded subtly. “Yeah. Juniper Thomas.”

“How do you know her?”

Dustin shrugged. “I don’t know. She was probably at one of my parties. They’re legendary, you know.”

“What were you and Newton taking about on the first day of school?”

“You really cut to the chase.” Dustin laughed. “How the fuck should I know? That was weeks ago.”

“Two weeks, to be precise,” Haislee said.

“Whatever. I don’t keep track of what I say.” Dustin jammed his hands in his pockets and stepped closer, eyeing her again. “You should come to one of my parties. Bring Elise. I guarantee you’d have a fuckin’ blast.”

It was Haislee’s turn to look him over, except she could never pull off the creep factor as well as Dustin. “I’ll think about it.” She took a step backward. “Got to get back to Math class.”

“Palmer?”

“Yeah.” Haislee grinned. “How’d you know?”

“He fills his classes with babes.” Dustin grinned back. “Be careful during Trig, when he’s talking about Pi and shit.”

“Why?”

“If you don’t pay attention, you might discover his hand down your pants, checkin’ out your curves and angles.” Dustin laughed.

Eww. Gross.

“Later, Haislee Kirkland,” Dustin said.

Haislee pulled open one of the doors to the school and had stepped inside before realizing that Dustin knew her last name. That meant he knew who she was all along. Alarm bells should have gone off in her head but instead she felt excited. And her reason for talking to Juniper in the first place was quickly forgotten. Maybe the reason wasn’t as important as she thought.

A senior knew who she was.

Maybe Haislee was too quick to judge Dustin. She didn’t even know him. Barring what Elise had said about him, the guy seemed okay for the most part. She had a feeling a Dustin Stoaks party was in her future. If he was still friends with Newton, then she’d see Newton at those parties. And she’d be able to keep Juniper away from him. But how would she convince Elise to go with her?

–  13  –

The Diamond Bay Grad Winter Formal took place on the last day of school before Christmas break, a Thursday. Being the middle of December, the temperatures hovered close to freezing and a couple of inches of snow had already fallen and stuck around.

The dance was just for the Grade 12 students, a “perk” for sticking it out so long in Hamilton’s public school system.

Newton was going stag. He hadn’t met anyone that had captivated him quite the way Juniper had, although he hadn’t been looking either. Maybe he’d see her at the dance, but he didn’t hold high hopes.

The previous week he had accompanied Teigan to Tip Top and bought his first suit. It hadn’t needed any alterations. The salesperson had said that was rare, but Newton wasn’t sure if that was the truth or a sales line. He decided it didn’t matter. He had looked good in the angled full-length mirrors.

Now he stood in front of his bathroom mirror and adjusted his tie. He still looked good. “Gonna turn some heads tonight, motherfucker,” Newton whispered to himself. He glanced at his phone. Time to go.

All week, Elise had tried hard to conceal her envy. She thought the dance should be for everyone. As she watched him come down the stairs, she was practically bursting.

Her mouth fell open. “Bruh!”

“What?” Newton examined himself, looking for something out of place.

“Nothing.” Elise smirked at him. “Just total fire.”

Newton smiled. “Thanks.”

Haislee poked her head around the corner of the living room. She ran her eyes over his suit, then back to his eyes. “Yeah. A def rizzler.”

Newton swallowed hard and returned a guarded grin. “It’s just a suit.”

“Whatever you say,” Haislee said in a dreamy voice, fluttering her eyelashes. Elise noticed and gave her a playful slap. Haislee retreated back to the living room.

Newton slipped into his dress shoes and tied them.

“Mom! Dad! You’re going to miss it.” Elise called toward the kitchen.

Teigan and Mattix met Newton in the entranceway. They both smiled warmly at their firstborn.

Teigan teared up, as she had done at Tip Top, but it was more real now. “So handsome.” She smiled and placed her hands together in front of her mouth as if she was praying.

Mattix stepped up to Newton, took him into his arms, and patted his back. “I’m proud to call you my son.”

Teigan quickly swiped her tears away with her index fingers. “I need a picture.”

Mattix turned on the entranceway light and Teigan framed Newton on her phone and snapped a picture. “So handsome,” she said.

“Mom, stop.” Newton glanced toward the living room and saw Haislee watching. He felt his cheeks warm.

“You sure you don’t want a drive?”

“Yeah,” Newton said. “It’s not that cold. And the sidewalks were clear when I came home. Should be fine.”

Teigan nodded and gave him a hug. “Be safe. Text us if you need anything.”

Newton nodded. “I will.” He pulled open the door and stepped onto the porch.

From inside, he heard Haislee’s voice call out, “Don’t do anything I would do!” Then giggles.

Mattix and Teigan stood in the doorway while Newton walked down the driveway to the sidewalk.

“Have fun!” Teigan called as they both waved. Newton waved back.

The cool December air invigorated him and he found himself mulling over the past four months of school. The fall semester would end in January and then it would be five more months until he could say goodbye to Diamond Bay High School forever.

His thoughts drifted to Dustin and Richard and how things had changed. He knew Dustin would be at the dance. His ego never missed an opportunity to be the center of attention. Richard would be close by.

Newton’s mind wandered. A few years ago, Mattix showed him an old Looney Tunes cartoon that featured a bulldog named Spike and a Jack Russell terrier named Chester. The two dogs had a master-slave dynamic. Chester followed at the heels of Spike and agreed with anything Spike said. It was Spike’s way or the highway. Two cartoon characters from the 1950s had perfectly captured the friendship (if you could call it that) between Dustin and Richard. Newton smiled at the simple yet accurate comparison. Richard would always side with Dustin and Newton believed that was the only reason Dustin kept him around.

Newton’s plan to avoid Dustin as much as possible over the past four months had worked, and by association that meant he didn’t see much of Richard either. They had shared the last class of the day, English, but even with one common class, Dustin kept his distance and his insults to himself.

It felt very out of character, considering Newton had hung out with Dustin and Richard all through Grade 11. Dustin’s bravado had become commonplace and expected any time he was around.

Newton knew narcissists like Dustin didn’t change their personality much, if ever. As the semester played out, the three of them circled each other like hesitant predators, wary of each other but unwilling to strike first.

Maybe it’s okay to let my guard down a bit.

Newton could see the Christmas lights wound around the entrance pillars of the school, made to look like two glowing candy canes. There were a few students standing outside the entrance talking and passing around a vape stick. He nodded at the one smoking and the boy smirked and nodded back.

After heading inside, Newton heard laughter from outside. They could have been laughing at him, but he preferred not to know.

Newton presented his ticket and entered the gymnasium. The space had been effectively converted into a winter wonderland, with colourful Christmas lights, streamers, hanging glittering snowflakes, and a mirrorball hanging over the center of the floor.

Most people milled about on bleachers lining the edges of the basketball court dance floor. Welcoming music played, but the modern songs would soon take over. If the deejay took requests, Newton would be spending most of his time trying to get some 1980s representation.

Newton scanned the darkened gym, looking for familiar faces, specifically one face.

Juniper.

Even if he never got a chance to talk to her, seeing her would make his night. But so far, no such luck. He pulled out his phone and passed the time playing Monopoly Go!

The evening stretched out song by song, recognizable to everyone except for Newton. He saw no one he wanted to dance with, and no one asked him. He lost interest in reviving some ’80s music and began wondering why he had come.

“What’s up, bruh?”

Newton glanced back to the bleacher seat directly behind and saw Dustin smirking back at him. He could have chosen to sit almost anywhere else, but hadn’t. As expected, Richard sat nearby.

Newton closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

Dustin moved down a row and sat next to Newton. Richard followed.

“Still got a raging case of blue balls?” Dustin stared at him, waiting for a response.

Nice try, fucker.

Newton ignored him, stood, and stepped down toward the dance floor. Dustin wasn’t going to ruin this for him, even though the evening had been a total bust.

Dustin cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. “Papa Smurf still got your tongue?”

Newton stopped, turned around, and climbed the bleacher steps until he stood facing Dustin. “We’ve managed to avoid each other so far this year. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Chill, bruh,” Dustin said. “I come in peace. I swear.”

Newton wasn’t buying it. “Merry Christmas, Dustin.” He took pleasure watching Dustin’s smug smirk falter.

Newton looked at Richard. “Happy New Year.” He resumed his descent toward the dance floor, a smile breaking on his face.

Despite not getting in the face of the deejay, one of Newton’s favorite songs, “I Want To Know What Love Is” by Foreigner, rose up from the speakers. Everyone on the dance floor paired up to slow dance, not leaving any room for the “Holy Ghost” as Pops would have said.

As his classmates moved, between gaps in their slowly moving bodies, Newton spotted Juniper on the opposite side of the gym. She wore a sleek, sleeveless dress with spaghetti straps, purple and flowing, and it sparkled with tiny sequins. He was convinced that she had smiled at him. He smiled back.

Newton pushed his way across the dance floor, in and around other dancing couples, until he stood where he thought he had seen her. But Juniper was nowhere in sight. He spun around, looking everywhere.

“Did you see her?” Newton asked the nearest couple. “Juniper?”

The couple shrugged and drifted away, swaying to the beat. Juniper had vanished as quickly as she had appeared, and Newton was beginning to think he had imagined the whole thing.

He had also been wrong. Seeing Juniper for the briefest of moments hadn’t made his night like he thought it might. It was just the fucked up cherry on top of a fucked up year.

Newton navigated along the edge of the dance floor and found the exit. He had seen and heard enough. It was time to put this part of the school year to rest.

“Newton!” A voice called out.

Newton turned and saw Dustin and Richard on the bleachers watching him leave.

“Happy New Year,” Dustin said, then raised his hand and made a “V” with his index and middle fingers. “Peace.”

Newton said nothing. Part of him thought he was imagining Dustin’s parting words too.

Am I that desperate for friendship that I’m seeing things that aren’t there?

He headed into the hallway, out the front doors, and into the crisp December air. He felt more alive at that moment than he had during the previous three hours. He dismissed Dustin’s farewell as disingenuous. It was safer that way.

It began to snow lightly during Newton’s stroll home. He longed for his headphones to immerse himself in music that he actually cared about. Instead, he started to hum “I Want To Know What Love Is,” adding the odd lyric to the still quiet of the night.

Later, he would dream of Juniper and her purple dress sprinkled with stars and wonder why she disliked him so much.

–  14  –

Working from home had its advantages: unlimited coffee, an ’80s playlist at full volume, working in your pajamas (or nothing at all). And unfamiliar sounds amplify in an empty (or nearly empty) house, which made teenage shenanigans difficult to pull off.

Teigan’s daily runs and the occasional trip to buy office supplies or groceries provided ample opportunity for teenage make-out sessions. She chose to believe nothing happened during those absences (ignorance truly was bliss), but she’d be first to admit to the brilliance of teenagers who wanted something, or to experience something.

Teigan had just returned from her afternoon run. The roads and sidewalks had still been reasonably clear and the temperature hovered a few degrees above freezing. A light jacket over a T-shirt and cold-weather leggings did the trick keeping her warm until her circulation had picked up. Once the snow hit in January, she’d have to revert to the local gym, not her first choice due to the barbies and roid-heads.

She emptied the mailbox and stepped inside, her cheeks glowing rosy in the warmth. Teigan kicked off her shoes. The house sat silent as it usually did on a Friday afternoon. Elise was still at Haislee’s house and Newton was working, according to the location app on her phone. She wasn’t looking forward to the new normal when her kids started dating. Her own teenage days held many fond memories, although her parents would probably disagree. Now with teenagers of her own, the tables had been flipped.

Part of her wanted to spy on her kids, beyond watching them on an app, and relive her own youth through them. She could do it, too. She had a finely honed ability for surveillance. But Newton and Elise deserved their own secrets, as long as those secrets didn’t place them in harm’s way. That boundary would remain uncrossed.

Mattix had taken the week off, so she expected to hear him puttering around the house working on something.

“Matt?” Teigan flipped through half a dozen letters, all bills or requests for donations. “Hon?”

The final letter in the stack was addressed to Newton in careful, bubbly handwriting. There was no return address, no stamp, and no other identifiable markings.

Teigan turned on the lights in the entranceway and held the letter up to their brightness. The paper inside was opaque and revealed no clues as to who it was from or what it said. She felt a brief pang of guilt for trying to look but dismissed it, thinking any parent would have done the same.

Mattix poked his head out from their bedroom upstairs. “Did you call me?”

Teigan was still scrutinizing the mystery letter. “Yeah.”

“Sorry. Had headphones on,” Mattix said. “What are you looking at?”

“It’s a letter to Newton.” Teigan set the envelope on the stairs so he’d see it when he got home. “Sender unknown.”

Mattix descended the stairs. “You want to steam it open, don’t you?”

Teigan shrugged and smirked. “Maybe. But no. I’d never do that.”

“You would if you knew you could get away with it.”

Teigan widened her eyes at him in surprise.

“What? I’d probably do it too.” Mattix met her at the foot of the stairs and kissed her.

“Stop. I’m all sweaty.”

Mattix smiled. “I like it when you’re all sweaty.” He took the rest of the mail from her and placed it on the top of the newel post. “Do you realize we have the house to ourselves?”

Teigan mirrored the glint in his eye. “But we’ve got your New Year’s party tonight.”

“Not for a few hours.” Before Teigan could protest, Mattix pulled her into a fireman’s lift and carried her up the stairs. “I must save you, m’ lady.”

Teigan squirmed and laughed on the way up. Near the top step, she managed to slide down facing him and secured her legs around Mattix’s waist, her arms around his neck. He looked at her with that little devious smile she loved so much.

He entered their bedroom and they both crashed onto the bed kissing. They had their clothes off in what seemed like seconds.

Teigan and Mattix spent the next hour enjoying their own afternoon delight. Afterward, now both sweaty and satisfied, they showered together, then finished getting ready for their party.

“Sex is wasted on the young,” Teigan said, her arms around his neck.

“Yeah, hundred percent.” Mattix kissed her. “Although the kids would disagree.”

Sounds of the front door opening and closing echoed from the entryway and up the stairs.

“Hello?” Newton called out.

Teigan stepped out of the bedroom in an elegant red off-the-shoulder cocktail dress. “Hi, honey.”

“Whoa, Mom. You look great.”

Teigan waved him off. “Your Dad and I have his work thing tonight.”

“Oh yeah. Right. Happy New Year two days early.”

Mattix followed Teigan down the stairs, dressed in a black tuxedo with a red bow tie that matched the colour of Teigan’s dress. “What am I, chopped liver?”

Newton smiled as he untied his shoes and hung up his jacket. “Looking good too, Dad.”

“Good shift?”

“Yeah. Guess so. Not too busy.”

Teigan picked up the mystery letter and held it out to Newton. “This arrived for you today.”

Newton took the envelope and flipped it around. Teigan was certain that she saw a spark of recognition when Newton looked at the handwriting on the front.

“Any idea who it’s from?” Teigan asked.

“No.” Newton climbed the stairs slowly, as if on autopilot, examining the letter in his hands. “When do you guys leave?”

“Soon,” Teigan said. “I’ll leave money for pizza.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Newton’s voice floated down from the second floor. Then he entered his room, closing the door behind him.

Teigan wanted to know what was in that envelope as much as Newton did and she wanted to watch him open it. The pull inside her head to know what she couldn’t see would always be there, a constant battle. But maintaining his trust and having him know that she respected his privacy mattered to her more.

Newton didn’t mention a thing about the mystery letter all weekend, nor had his demeanor changed in any significant way.

By the time New Year’s Day arrived the following Monday, Teigan had not forgotten the letter but deemed it unimportant. It had become a non-event. She hoped that the remaining school year would be a non-event too.

–  15  –

The first day back to school after Christmas break was much like the days before. Newton kept his head down, did his work, kept interactions to a minimum, and avoided Dustin as best he could. But even with four grades represented at Diamond Bay, it was still difficult to disappear. If someone wanted to find you, it didn’t take long.

It was the last day of the fall semester. Newton had completed his final exams the previous week and the remaining few days were considered free classes, where students could catch up on overdue work if needed. Attendance was still mandatory.

His mom had been bugging him about researching universities and colleges, but that hardly seemed important now. It would all work out in the end. Newton spent his time browsing social media, listening to music, and playing Monopoly Go!, not necessarily in that order.

Next week meant new classes and maybe new friends, if he could stay away from Dustin and Richard, although that hadn’t helped much for the first semester. Newton found it hard to engage with his classmates when the dastardly duo was nearby. Still, it was a new beginning and he wanted to stay positive.

Newton stood at his open locker and grabbed his jacket and backpack, preparing to go home.

“Hey Newt.” Dustin’s potent cologne, probably Chanel or Prada, invaded the immediate surroundings like an unstoppable virus. He had preceded his greeting with several quick raps on Newton’s locker door, then opened it flat against the locker beside. Richard stood close by.

Newt. The short form of his name was reserved for friends and family only. Dustin and Richard were neither and he hated hearing it come out of their mouths.

“You’re a hard guy to find,” Dustin said.

Newton rolled his eyes and looked at him as if saying “Oh, really?”

“What’s the hot goss, Newt?” Dustin flashed his brows and his perfect white teeth.

Newton took the high road and decided to remain civil. “I don’t do gossip.”

“Damn,” Dustin said. “You have a good Christmas at least?”

Newton looked at him. “Why do you care?”

“I dunno. Just tryin’ to be better.”

What a load of bullshit. Newton slung his backpack over a shoulder. “The break was fine.”

“My Christmas was fan-fuckin’-tastic, thanks for asking,” Dustin said. “Spent it in Cabo, smashin’ chicks every night. Even Rich got his dick wet.”

Newton cast his eyes at Richard. “You went with him?”

Richard straightened up, puffed out his chest, and nodded. “It was tight.”

“Hella tight.” Dustin bumped fists with Richard. “So I was thinkin’, Newt. It’s a new semester, new beginnings. Let’s bury the hatchet.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Newton said.

“You know what I mean.” Dustin stepped closer. “Be my wingman.”

Newton stared at Dustin with disbelief. His miasma of expensive cologne had permeated Newton’s taste buds as well as his nostrils, almost choking off his words. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“What about him?” Newton motioned at Richard.

“You can never have enough wingmen,” Dustin said. “Am I right?” He sent a punch to Richard’s shoulder.

Richard gave an affirming nod and rubbed his shoulder.

“I think I like flying solo.” Newton paused, then said, “Thought you’d jump on that with one of your witty comebacks. Maybe you have changed.”

Dustin shrugged and crossed his arms on his chest, a stupid grin on his face.

Newton shifted his eyes from one to the other, closed his locker, and locked it. He took a few steps toward Richard and leaned closer. “Keep being yourself. You know... bragging about smashing chicks. Because that’s not creepy at all.”

Richard’s face flushed red and he looked away. Newton had successfully hit a nerve and headed for the exit.

“The offer remains open, Newt,” Dustin said. “See you next semester. Maybe we’ll have some classes together.”

Newton pictured Dustin’s smug face smirking back at him. He raised his arm backward and flashed his middle finger.

Richard’s ultimatum from back in September came rushing back, causing Newton to relive it as if it had just happened.

“Fucking hypocrite,” he said to himself, teeth clenched in anger. He punched through the exit doors and into the cold air. It was snowing again, just as it had the previous week. Fat snowy flakes, the size of quarters, helped cool him down. Newton focused on next week, a new semester. Maybe he’d share a class with Juniper.

–  16  –

Luck was on Newton’s side for once. Although he had taken several of the same subjects as Dustin and Richard, he wasn’t in any of their classes during his final semester in public school. Avoidance of the two would be even easier. And the icing on the cake: Juniper was in his International Cinema elective.

Maybe there was a God – or something – looking out for him.

As the first few weeks of the semester advanced toward spring break, International Cinema became Newton’s favorite class. He loved movies almost as much as he loved music from the ’80s and had signed up for it last year on a whim. He learned about the history of not just Hollywood, but of the international films and directors that shaped the films of today. Plus, he got to see Juniper for an hour five days a week. Talking to her remained elusive except for the most basic of pleasantries.

The day before Valentine’s Day, McMaster University had arranged an open house for the senior students from several high schools. Three standard school busses had been parked in front of Diamond Bay when Newton arrived that morning. Instead of attending first class, everyone piled into the waiting vehicles and were given buttons signifying what school they were from.

Twenty minutes later, the caravan parked next to a fleet of other school busses and a mix of students made their way to the L. R. Wilson Lecture Hall. Concentric rows of seating, divided into three sections by two stepped aisles, expanded back from three massive video screens. The space reminded Newton of pictures he had seen of the United Nations Assembly Hall, except here it was modern white and blue.

Once settled, every seat was occupied with potential students. It was obvious where Dustin and Richard sat. His voice spewing off-colour jokes carried in the open area.

Sitting near the middle, Newton scanned the rest of the hall for Juniper. If she was here, she blended into the sea of faces. One tall boy with closely cropped hair sat on the aisle and gave him a wary look. Feeling self-conscious, Newton sunk back into his seat.

“Hey Newt.” Dustin whispered loud enough to be heard from where he sat with Richard, two rows behind.

Against his better judgment, Newton swiveled in his seat and looked back.

“How’s that McMasterbating degree going?” He laughed and egged Richard and others to join in. “Have you passed the blue ball test yet?” Dustin roared. Some students from other high schools laughed, but most didn’t. Newton faced front and let the jokes slide off, reassured that Dustin was in the minority.

Bury the hatchet, my ass.

Several presenters spent the next hour giving a brief and engaging overview of everything McMaster University had to offer. Even Dustin knew to keep his mouth shut.

The presenters followed up with an hour devoted to questions. Newton’s mind buzzed with possibilities that he had not considered. Could a Bachelor of Fine Arts be in his future? He was already on the right path with his International Cinema class at Diamond Bay. Maybe his mom was right (of course she was). More research was needed.

The information session wrapped up and the students began to file out of the lecture hall along the stepped aisles on both sides of the central seats.

Newton merged with the line of students ahead of him. Progress toward the exit was slow, but he was too busy thinking of the future to care.

A scuffle ahead of him took him by surprise and by the time Newton heard the words “back off, motherfucker,” it was too late. Someone ahead had pushed someone else, forcing a student he didn’t know to back into him. Newton lost his balance and stumbled backward over one row and landed hard, connecting with the arm rest of a swivel seat in the next row. He felt (and heard) something snap on the left side of his body.

The pain was electric white. Newton screamed as he hit the aisle steps and clutched his side.

“Oh shit,” someone said, then laughter. Students towered around him, a sea of faces, mostly familiar, some in shadowed hoodies, most agape with concern. Richard and Dustin poked their heads in front of the taller students. Later, Newton thought Dustin had enjoyed seeing him in pain. His eyes had held a certain glee, but it was difficult to be positive looking back through the veil of Tylenol-3.

One of the presenters rushed forward and pushed students aside to provide Newton with ample space. They called 9-1-1 and diverted the rest of the exiting students around him.

Everyone takes breathing for granted until something impedes it in some way. Waiting for the ambulance, Newton took in rapid shallow breaths to minimize the pain radiating from the left side of his chest.

The presenter that had called 9-1-1, a middle-aged woman wearing glasses, jeans, a plain T-shirt, and a white relaxed blazer, scanned the remaining few exiting students. “Does anyone know this young man’s name?”

She was met with either blank, gawking stares, or head shakes of “no.”

She looked down at Newton. Her shoulder-length rusty hair spilled down around her face. “Hey there. I’m Kate. I’m going to hang out with you until the ambulance arrives. Is there anyone I can call?”

Newton tried to talk but it hurt too much.

“Sorry. Bad idea,” Kate said. “Got a phone?”

Newton pointed to his right-hand pocket. Kate wasted no time carefully digging out his phone. She held it to his face to unlock it. She opened the contacts and showed them to him.

“Call Mom? Blink once for yes.”

Newton blinked once and Kate dialed. Teigan picked up on the second ring and Kate informed her what had happened and that she had nothing to worry about.

Midway through the call, paramedics arrived. After assessing his condition, they carefully moved Newton to a spinal board and attached a pulse oximeter to his index finger. They placed ice packs along his left side and as a precaution fastened foam blocks on each side of his head. An oxygen mask was snugged up around his nose and mouth and they wrapped him with a blanket. Lifting from opposite ends, the paramedics carried him to the gurney they had parked at the door.

Kate finished her call and provided the paramedics with Newton’s basic identification. As the paramedics rolled him out to the waiting ambulance, she tucked his phone into the blanket. “Newton, I let your mom know that you’re in good hands. She’ll meet you at the hospital.” Kate paused. “I hope this isn’t a black mark on McMaster. We hope to see you in the fall.”

Newton blinked once but he didn’t think it registered as a “yes.” With his head immobilized, he couldn’t see if Kate had responded or anything else around him except the chilly sky above. He wondered how many students had seen what happened and how many were from Diamond Bay.

There’s probably a video on Insta already.

The ice packs had done wonders for reducing the severity of his pain. Now that he was tucked in, secure, and en route to the hospital, Newton allowed himself to relax. He was pretty sure he wasn’t bleeding, and he didn’t sound like a deflating balloon with every breath. Whatever the official diagnosis, he’d be ready. It couldn’t be that bad.

–  17  –

During the drive to the hospital, one paramedic remained in the back, monitoring Newton’s vital signs.

“Newton, how are you feeling?”

“Hurts,” Newton said. “Ice helps.”

“Good.” The paramedic glanced at the portable patient monitor. “You’re going to be fine.”

The overhead fluorescent lights in the ambulance treatment bay flickered. Newton could hear the lights buzzing over the ambulance’s engine noise, the sirens, and the traffic outside.

“Do you know someone named... Stoaks?” The paramedic held up a scrap of lined paper in front of Newton’s face.

Scrawled in orange ballpoint were the words, “Stoaks did it.”

Newton squinted at the paper, following the cursive orange loops. “Uh, yeah,” Newton said. “Goes to—” He winced as a bolt of pain shot through his left side.

“Sorry. Don’t talk.” The paramedic noted an increase in Newton’s pulse. “Just listen. This might be useful, if you want to press charges.” The paramedic folded the small scrap a few times and slipped it into his T-shirt.

Newton tried to work through his recent memories of the fall, but the details were fuzzy and fading fast.

Someone saw Dustin shoving people? But who?

Teigan was waiting at the hospital as expected. The paramedics unloaded Newton and rolled him through the sliding double doors into the ER. Broken bones required immediate treatment. One paramedic tracked his vital signs on a portable monitor. The other informed the attending physician what had happened. After determining there had been no spinal injury and no evidence of flail chest, the paramedics removed the foam blocks and the oxygen mask from Newton’s head and face. He was given two Tylenol-3 tablets and sent for X-rays.

Teigan and Newton found themselves back near the ER, waiting for results. She perched on the edge of his bed and took his hand. “I’m so glad you’re going to be okay. What happened?”

Newton took a moment to think back, then shrugged. He spoke slowly and softly. “It was after the presentation. We were all leaving and someone ahead of me got pushed.”

“Did you see who it was?”

Newton closed his eyes and pictured the crowd of Grade 12 students crowding around and looking down at him, Dustin and Richard included. Despite this memory, he still had no idea who the instigator was. The handwritten note suggested Dustin was involved, but he couldn’t prove anything.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” Newton continued. “Somebody bumped into someone else and they knocked me over into one of the seats. Like dominoes. And...” He motioned to the left side of his chest. “Hurts like a sonofabitch.”

“I bet,” Teigan said. “How was the presentation?”

“Actually super good.” Newton’s eyes lit up. “I always thought McMaster was a stuffy old university, but there’s lots of cool stuff there. There’s this program called iArts, integrated arts I think, where I could expand on my film class.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“I still have to do more research, though.” Newton saw Teigan grinning at him and immediately knew what she was thinking. “I know, I know.” He chuckled briefly, then winced. “Jesus. Hurts to laugh.”

“Sorry,” Teigan said. “You can do anything you put your mind to, you know.”

Newton nodded. “I know.”

The attending physician exited from the ER and approached them.

“Newton Coleman, correct?”

“Yup,” Newton said. “What’s the damage?”

“You’re lucky,” the physician said. “Just a minor fracture to the sixth rib on your left side. There doesn’t seem to be any other injury.”

“What’s next?” Teigan was all ears.

“Not much. With minor fractures to the rib cage, time and care is all that’s needed. You'll be all healed in five or six weeks. Avoid overexerting yourself, but gentle stretching is recommended. Above all, listen to your body. Don’t overdo it. Pain is a signal that there’s something wrong.”

“Do we need any special pain meds?” Teigan asked

“The worst of it is over. Tylenol or Advil, taken as directed, is fine to manage the pain,” the physician said. “My advice: take it easy for a few days. Move slowly. Use a cold pack for fifteen minutes a few times a day. Oh, and try to avoid laughing, coughing, or sneezing. Other than that, you’re golden.”

“I can handle that,” Newton said. “Thanks, Doc.”

The physician nodded. “Take care.”

“Let’s find your clothes and get out of here.” Teigan helped Newton off the bed and they sought out a nurse to assist them.

–  18  –

Teigan tried her best to minimize the bumps and vibrations on the trip home, aware of every speed bump, stone, and crack in the road. But some of the icy ruts were unavoidable. She slowed whenever she saw them, but hit either a rock or some frozen buildup, shaking the Pathfinder.

She looked over at Newton and saw him wince, pulling in a short breath. “Sorry.”

Newton shook his head. “It’s okay. We’ll be home soon enough.”

“How’re you doing, otherwise?”

“Alright, I guess,” Newton said. “I think they gave me Tylenols with a little extra something. The pain isn’t that bad, if I don’t move too quickly.”

“Probably Tylenol-3. They have some codeine in them to knock pain on its ass.”

Newton looked at her, alarmed. “It’s not addictive is it? Like oxy?”

“Codeine’s a narcotic too and you could get addicted if you took enough,” Teigan said. “But it’s a lot weaker than oxy. One dose of codeine isn’t going to do it.”

Newton relaxed. “Good. The less drugs the better.”

“Newt, there’s nothing wrong with taking some Tylenol or Advil when you need to. Less pain means less anxiety. You’ll heal faster.”

“I know, Mom.”

“Don’t get any ideas. You’re going to take it easy,” Teigan said. “Okay?”

“No ideas. Check. But that reminds me. Can you go by Baskin-Robbins? I have to change my hours.”

“Can’t you give them a call?”

“I’d prefer to talk to Barry in person,” Newton said. “Makes a better impression.”

Teigan agreed and adjusted her route home to include a stop at Main East Plaza. She pulled into a parking space close to the entry. Newton unfastened his seatbelt and pushed the passenger door open with his right foot.

“I could go get him.” Teigan shot him a look of concern. “Save you the trip?”

“I’ll be okay, Mom.” Newton smiled through a flash of pain in his left side. “I’ll go slow.”

It was hard for Teigan to let him go unaided. She watched Newton move, one slow and careful step at a time, to the sidewalk, then to the door. She was positive that he was hurting, despite the Tylenol-3, but he disguised it well.

Once inside, Newton gave Barry a short wave. Barry Todd was the kind of business owner that liked to be involved in the store’s operations a couple of days a week. He felt it wasn’t right that his employees should have to run the business on top of their own assigned jobs.

Barry had been chatting with Tabitha, another employee a few years older than Newton, when he noticed Newton’s gait was different.

“Newt, what’s going on, buddy?” Barry stepped out from behind the freezer counter and closed the gap between them so Newton wouldn’t have to.

Newton and Tabitha exchanged a wave. “Long story short, I fell and cracked a rib.” He pointed at the left side of his body.

“Jeez-louise, that sucks,” Barry said. “You’re gonna take it easy, right?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Newton thought about sitting but the effects of the Tylenol-3 were waning. The pain had edged back into his ribs. “I definitely can’t work until at least next Monday.”

“Newt. Listen to me.” Barry looked him square in the eye. “Take all the time you need. Your job will be here waiting. Okay?”

Newton nodded. “Thanks, Barry.”

“No worries, eh?” Barry took his right arm and began to help him to the door, then stopped. “Hold on. I have something for you.”

Barry jogged behind the freezers to the back office, returning moments later with something small and white in his hand.

“Found it on the floor this morning.” Barry extended his hand. In it was a white envelope with Newton’s name written on the front. “Maybe you got a secret admirer.”

Newton took the envelope. After a quick glance at the handwriting on the front, he jammed it into his front pocket. “Maybe. Anything to make this day better.”

Barry helped Newton back to the Pathfinder, even though Newton said he could do it himself. “Good employees deserve good treatment.”

Teigan popped her head out from the driver’s side. “Thanks, Barry.”

“No worries, Mrs. Coleman.” Barry waited until Newton had settled in the passenger seat, then closed the door. He twirled his finger until Newton rolled down the window. “Take care of yourself, Newt. And I want to hear all about your secret admirer later.”

Newton nodded and gave Barry a thumbs-up as Teigan backed out of the parking space. She merged back onto Main Road East and continued the rest of the way home.

“Tell me about this secret admirer.” Teigan grinned and raised her brow in anticipation.

“Not much to tell.” Newton kept his eyes on the road ahead. “When I was in the store, Barry told me someone called for me earlier, but they didn’t say who they were and they didn’t leave a message.”

“Was it a girl?”

“Yeah.” Newton flipped down the passenger visor and looked at himself in the small mirror. His attempt to hide his smile was not lost on Teigan.

“That’s interesting. And something to look forward to.”

Newton looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“For when you go back,” Teigan said. “Maybe you’ll be the one to answer the phone next time.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Teigan turned off Radcliffe and into their driveway between two monolithic mounds of dirty snow. The city’s plows had chosen to pile the snow of the surrounding block onto their driveway. Mattix had to clear the driveway after every snowfall.

“Looks like we beat everyone home,” Teigan said. “Will you let me help you into the house?”

Newton smiled. “Yeah. Sure, Mom.”

Once inside, Newton kicked off his shoes. “I’m going to my room for a while.”

“Remember what the doctor said,” Teigan said. “Try to stay upright.”

“Got it, Mom.” Newton climbed the stairs, one step at a time, using his right leg to do the work. Once in his bedroom, he piled a couple of his pillows against his headboard and managed to sit reclined against them. He sensed his pain level increasing, but now that he wasn’t moving, everything felt tolerable, at least for a while.

He pulled the envelope out of his pocket. Newton flipped it around. This one was smaller than the first one that had come to the house. He held it to his nose and detected a faint trace of perfume or maybe soap.

Newton looked across his room to where he had hidden the first envelope. He wanted to open the one in his hand, but didn’t want to move and hide it afterward.

In the end, curiosity won out. He slid his finger under the sealed flap and pulled out a single, purple sheet of paper, folded in half twice. After reading it, he placed everything back into his pocket. He’d hide it later.

–  19  –

Newton was back at school the following Monday. His left side still hurt, but with alternating doses of Tylenol and Advil, he was able to minimize the pain. On top of missing three days of school the previous week, he had also missed the Valentine’s Dance.

He had kept up with his studies through Google Classroom, but the dance was a once a year event, and the last Valentine’s Dance at high school. Newton liked to think he would have gone stag if he hadn’t been injured, but reality set him straight. He had acquaintances but no friends. The dance would have been an exercise in frustration and disappointment. Unless Juniper had gone. That would have made up for everything, but now he’d never know.

I could ask around, see if she went.

Newton dismissed the thought. He trusted no one enough to ask. Anything that would make him seem like less of a creep was the better option.

He was sitting in his first class ready to tackle trigonometry when the P.A. speakers crackled to life. One of his fellow classmates, someone he didn’t recognize, began reading a few school news items and a sports report. They tried their best to emulate an FM radio announcer and ended up sounding strained and weird. But the announcements concluded in a way Newton hadn’t anticipated. Nor would he soon forget.

“And finally,” the student’s voice said. “We’d like to welcome Newton Coleman back after breaking a rib at McMaster University last week. We’re glad you’re okay.”

Newton groaned and shielded his eyes. If he could have slid under his desk, he would have, but it hurt too much. Trig be damned. All eyes were on him now.

The teacher began clapping, which encouraged the rest of the class. Newton thought the attention was unwarranted. His rib was fractured, not broken. Fact checking the school announcements wasn’t high on the list of priorities.

A blond girl next to him (Gabriella? Briella?) leaned across the aisle and whispered, “You’re in The Bullet, too.”

Every Monday of the week, the Diamond Bay Bulletin was printed and distributed to drop boxes scattered around the school. The kids called it “The Bullet” because the publication was efficient at killing your social standing. Except if you were a jock. Jocks were immune.

“What? Ugh.” Newton sighed and offered a pained smile. “Thanks.” He hid his eyes behind his hands.

“Must hurt, huh?” Gabriella gave him an expectant look.

Newton looked at her, nodded, and recovered his eyes. Now he’d have the equivalent of a giant social spotlight trained on him for the entire day.

But the day had a surprise in store for him. His other classmates didn’t make fun of him or get in his face. Most wanted to wish him well and were glad he was okay.

At lunch, Newton grabbed a copy of “The Bullet” and found the news item on him. It was more of a footnote, a postage stamp-sized blurb on the corner of the back page under the headline “One Last Thing...”

The blurb read, “Our hearts go out to Newton Coleman, who broke a rib at the McMaster University open house last week. Give him a hand if he needs it and don’t make him laugh. Get well soon, buddy. The Spring Fling Dance is right around the corner. Hugz. The Bulletin Crew.”

Newton read the blurb again, then flipped back to the front to read the masthead. Juniper was listed as one of the “Bulletin Crew,” responsible for writing and layout.

Maybe Juniper wrote that blurb.

The assumption brought a broad smile to his face and he slipped the thin publication into the pocket of his binder. Newton had his International Cinema class at the end of the day and he promised himself to ask.

That meant enduring Chemistry. The topic today covered molecular bonds and structure. Every time the teacher drew a molecule on the whiteboard, with lines signifying the bonds between elements, all Newton could think of was slow-moving clock hands.

He was first out the door at the bell. Struggling through his pain, he found his seat at the back of his film class. Newton eagerly watched for Juniper to arrive, but at the same time tried to look cool.

The pain in his side had begun to flare. Pulling his backpack to his lap, he retrieved his Tylenol and a bottle of water and swallowed a dose.

“Hi, Newton.”

Newton looked up just as he was setting his backpack on the floor to see Juniper had taken her seat across the aisle from him.

“Sorry about your rib,” she said.

“Thanks.”

Juniper faced forward, waiting for class to begin.

Newton clenched his teeth and drew in a breath. He hated the awkward feeling of their chats now. He wanted the ease of summer back. But it was now or never. “Hey, did you write that thing in The Bulletin?”

Juniper looked at him and smiled, just a little. “It was a group effort.”

But whose idea was it?

Who actually wrote it?

Who decided where it would go?

Are you going to the Spring Fling with anyone?

Newton decided to save his questions for a later opportunity. “Thanks again. Meant a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Juniper shifted her attention back to the front of the class.

Time flew in International Cinema. Teigan had always said to pay attention to courses that felt effortless; that was a good sign. The end-of-day bell rang, and the students packed up their books and shuffled out. Had Newton moved quicker, he may have had an opportunity to talk to Juniper more. But even though the Tylenol he had taken an hour ago had just kicked in, he still moved slowly. He didn’t want any setbacks.

Newton stepped into the hallway and made his way to his locker. He exchanged a few items, rearranged the contents of his backpack, and locked his locker. He was heading for the main entrance when Juniper came bounding down the steps from the second floor and nearly bumped into him.

“Hey.” Newton cast a glance back up the stairs. “You’ve got a locker upstairs? I thought all seniors got lockers on the first floor. You know, a perk of membership.”

Juniper wore a backpack as well but held a few books in front of her chest like a shield. Her ponytail bobbed and swayed against her shoulders with each step.

“It’s a long story,” she said.

They continued down the hallway toward the main entrance.

“Hey, did you go to the thing at McMasters last week?”

“Yeah,” Juniper said.

“I looked for you,” Newton said. “I didn’t see you.”

“I was way at the back. I saw you.”

Newton nodded. He thought about asking her if she had seen who had pushed him, then decided against it. “What’d you think?” He opened the main entrance doors and they stepped into the cool February air. Snow and ice crunched under their feet.

“It was great. I’m seriously considering their iArts program. They offer a lot of interesting stuff.”

“Hey, me too.” Newton looked at her and their eyes connected, much like they had last summer. “I had no idea McMaster was so cool.”

As Newton and Juniper walked toward Edgerton Street, Dustin’s black Escalade slid into view from the student parking lot. Dustin and Richard leaned against the front bumper talking.

Dustin waved. “Newt!”

Newton shifted his eyes only minutely, keeping his attention on Juniper. “Maybe we’d share some classes.”

Juniper tightened her grip on her books. “Yeah, maybe. I got to go. See you tomorrow.” She hustled toward the street.

Newton could have caught up to her if he had wanted to, but his rib threw up a cautionary flag. “See yah.” He looked back at Dustin and Richard and decided that avoiding a direct attempt at contact might end up being worse than the contact itself.

He walked over to where they stood. “Hey,” Newton said.

Dustin motioned at Newton’s side. “How’s your rib doing? Healing up?”

Newton shrugged. “Slowly.”

“Must suck,” Dustin said.

“Broken bones usually do. Plus I can’t lie down or sleep. So yeah, it sucks.” Newton glanced at Richard, who immediately looked away, then back at Dustin. “Did you see who pushed me last week?”

“Hey, want a lift home?” Dustin hooked his thumb toward Edgerton. “Me and Richard are going that way anyway.”

Newton shook his head. “No. I’ll manage.”

“You sure?” Dustin scrutinized the icy sidewalk. “You wouldn’t want to slip and hurt yourself more.”

“I won’t slip.” Newton turned and followed the sidewalk to the street.

“Later, Newt,” Dustin called out.

Newton did not wave or look back, but overheard subdued laughter. Without context, it was pointless to speculate on what was so funny, but his mind went there anyway and his thoughts began to taint the good day he had just experienced.

The Escalade’s engine rumbled to life. Newton could hear the slow crunching sound as the tires rolled over the scattered patches of ice and snow in the parking lot.

The oversized SUV rolled beside Newton on Edgerton Street, matching his walking speed. The driver’s side power window slid down.

Dustin hung his arm on the open window and leaned toward Newton on the sidewalk. “Last chance, Newt.”

“No, I’m good.” Newton focused on potential slippery spots ahead on the sidewalk.

“Are you?” Silence hung between them for several uncomfortable seconds. “Of course you are.” The power window hummed closed and the Escalade pulled away, its exhaust following like a billowing storm cloud.

Newton swore he heard laughing again, but dismissed it. He focused on his brief interactions with Juniper, which had been a few positive steps forward in a sea of distance.

–  20  –

After four weeks, Newton’s broken rib had almost completely healed. He was taking Tylenol and Advil sporadically, most days not at all, and sleeping lying down had become doable again. He could scoop ice cream, but he still hadn’t gotten the go-ahead from his doctor for more vigorous activities. Spring Break would be here in a week, and after that, the Spring Fling dance. He felt confident that he’d be able to dance without pain.

Newton collected his binder and companion books and followed Juniper out of their International Film class. He had decided that morning to ask Juniper to the Spring Fling dance, but he hadn’t found the nerve to follow through yet. Film class was the best place to ask her, but with the school day having just ended, his chances were dwindling by the second.

Newton quickened his pace so he could be walk beside her. “Hey.”

Juniper offered a brief glance and a small smile. “Hey.”

“Any plans tonight?”

Juniper shrugged and held her books close. “You know, homework. The usual.”

Newton focused on her eyes and lashes until he had to look away to make sure he didn’t collide with another student. “What subjects?”

“I got to decide on an art project for my Capstone,” Juniper said. “What’s your Capstone about?”

“I haven’t completely decided yet, but it’s probably going to be about film and movies.” Newton saw the main entrance quickly approaching. Now or never. “I’ve been thinking. Would you—”

Juniper passed the stairs leading up to the second floor. “Hold that thought. I got to get some things from my locker.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Juniper shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll just be a sec.” She sprinted up the stairs, weaving around the crowd of students coming down.

Seconds turned into minutes. Newton checked his phone for any texts that could have explained Juniper’s delay. There were no messages waiting for him.

After five minutes had passed, Newton decided to head to the second floor to look for her. But before his foot hit the first step, he heard a familiar voice call his name.

Newton turned to see Dustin and Richard strolling toward him. “Talk about bad timing,” he said under his breath.

“Wassup, dawg?” Dustin raised his hand in preparation for a bro-hug, something Newton had no intention of reciprocating.

“Nothing,” Newton said, although he really wanted to walk Juniper home.

“Me and Rich were heading to my place to play video games,” Dustin said. “Wanna come?”

Richard rocked on his feet and smirked.

“Nah,” Newton said. “I got Capstone homework.”

Dustin waved him off. “Forget that bullshit Capstone. I’m going to say one thing, then I’ll let it go. But you’re going to go for it.”

Newton dropped his backpack and waited.

Dustin drew out his hands like a magician performing a final reveal. “Forza Motorsport.”

Last year, before Dustin forced himself between Newton and Richard, the three of them would have Forza racing contests. They could have played the game at Richard’s or Newton’s place too, but Dustin had a dedicated games room off his bedroom. The space had a massive widescreen television, surround sound, leather seating, and every accessory imaginable, including a racing simulator cockpit.

Newton hadn’t seen a lot of Dustin and Richard since January, and especially now, not having common classes with them in the second semester. But driving games, especially Forza in the driving simulator, that was fucking fun. He made an exception.

“Okay, but I left something upstairs,” Newton said. “Give me five.”

Newton turned to head up the stairs and Haislee launched herself at him from the next step up. She hooked her arms around his neck and swung herself around. “Surprise!”

Newton stumbled backward. Had Dustin and Richard not been there to break Newton’s fall, he may have injured himself again.

“What the hell, Haislee!” Newton was on the cusp between annoyed and angry.

Elise ran down the steps. “Hazy, stop!”

Newton placed his hands on Haislee’s waist and moved her away, but not before she planted a kiss on him, half on his cheek, half on the corner of his mouth.

Haislee released her hands. “Just saying hi. I haven’t seen you much lately.”

“Um, hi,” Newton said.

Elise joined Haislee at the bottom of the stairs. “Sorry,” she said to Newton, then to Haislee, “Bruh, don’t be gross.”

“What?” Haislee grinned at Elise, then stole a look at Newton.

“He’s my brother,” Elise said.

“But he’s not my brother.” Haislee sauntered by Newton, smiling and dragged her fingertips lightly across his chest as she went.

Elise caught up to Haislee and grabbed her arm, then looked back at Newton. She mouthed the word “sorry.”

Newton smiled and shrugged back at Elise. He watched the two girls exit the school, Haislee throwing her head back and laughing.

Newton turned back to Dustin and Richard. They looked back at him, their mouths agape.

“Dawg,” Dustin said. “That was almost better that Forza. That chick with your sister... Haislee? She’s fuckin’ hot. Am I right, Rich?”

Richard laughed. “Totally.”

“In fact they’re both—”

“Stop.” Newton said. “Don’t be pervs.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Dustin laughed. “She was practically suckin’ you off right in front of us.”

Newton held Dustin’s gaze with serious eyes and said nothing.

“But you got a point.” Dustin’s eyes wandered to the front entrance where the girls had left. “Don’t mess with jailbait, eh?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Newton said. “Anyway, let me go grab that thing. I’ll be back.”

Dustin motioned to the front entrance. “Hurry up. We’ll be outside in the Caddy but we’re not gonna wait long.”

Newton sprinted up the stairs to the second floor. He scanned the hallway, now mostly clear of students. He walked past rows of closed lockers and empty classrooms.

Now standing at the opposite end of the hallway, Newton looked back the way he had come. There was no sign of Juniper. The girl’s washroom might have been a possibility, but he couldn’t bring himself to step inside and check.

Newton still had few more days to ask Juniper to the dance. He felt both relieved and angry with himself that he had missed this chance.

He sprinted back down the stairs and met Dustin and Richard, already in the Escalade with the motor running. Newton climbed into the back seat and fastened himself in.

Dustin backed out of the parking lot and eyed Newton in the rear view mirror. “Find what, or who, you were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Newton lied.

Dustin gunned the engine and peeled out onto Edgerton Street. “I’d give anything to drive F1 for real.”

Newton gripped the door handle with white knuckles. “I think there’s a place east of here, maybe forty-five minutes away.”

“Are you shittin’ me?”

“No,” Newton said. “I remember looking it up a while ago, around when you got your racing simulator, at a place called Laurel Lane Estates. I think.”

“Newt for the win,” Dustin nodded at him through the rear view mirror.

Richard selected a streaming radio station from the Escalade’s console. “Dr. Feelgood” by Mötley Crüe blasted from the speakers.

“Shit, bruh.” Dustin lowered the volume using the controls on the steering wheel. “The ’80s called. They want their music back. Fuck.” He punched in a favorite, “Top Rap Songs of 2024,” and Eminem’s “Houdini” replaced Mötley Crüe.

–  21  –

“I’ll just be a sec,” Juniper had said. As she ran up the stairs to Diamond Bay’s second floor, home to the freshmen and many of the Grade 9 and 10 classrooms, she wondered if Newton would be waiting for her when she returned. If she was reading his signals right, he would be. But Juniper had misinterpreted signals in the past.

For as long as she could remember, Juniper had had troubles interacting with other people her age, both girls and boys... especially boys. One short-lived boyfriend was all she had to show for the past four years at Diamond Bay. Her parents had told her that there was no need to rush things, that she’d probably find her people after high school. It was likely true, but it was also hard for a teenager to hear.

Juniper snaked around the students descending the stairs on their way out. She wanted to wish them all away, but the universe seemed to always know when she was in a hurry and threw obstacles in her way to slow her down.

Finally on the second floor, she proceeded toward her locker midway down the hall. The numbers of younger students Juniper needed to avoid dwindled the farther she walked.

Maybe Newton wouldn’t wait for her. Maybe she was all wrong about things. She’d never belong with people her own age. Juniper felt her heart begin to pound and knew an anxiety attack was imminent unless she could calm herself down. She stepped into the girl’s bathroom and locked herself in a stall. Juniper took two breaths at a time, a large deep one followed by a short one, then exhaled through her nose. She kept her mind focused on the image of Newton downstairs, waiting for her. Once she was sure that her heart wasn’t going to burst out of her chest, she stepped out of the stall, washed her hands (habit), and resumed her path to her locker.

Two girls, probably in Grade 9 or 10, walked past her going the opposite direction. Normally she avoided eye contact with people she didn’t know, but one of the two girls looked familiar. They locked gaze. The other girl knew her, too.

Juniper reached her locker and glanced back at the two girls. The one she had recognized was leaning into the ear of the other, whispering something. They both laughed as they headed toward the stairs.

She exchanged a few books with the ones she was carrying and closed her locker. Juniper dug out her phone and tapped out a message to Newton. “On my way. Hope you’re still there.”

Juniper’s thumb hovered over the “Send” button, then reconsidered and backspaced over the message. “Too desperate,” she said to herself as she pocketed her phone.

She headed for the stairs and pictured Newton waiting for her. As Juniper stepped off the top stair, she heard laughing echo back up the stairwell.

Great. More people I’m going to have to avoid.

She rounded the mid-floor landing and spotted a girl with her arms around Newton’s neck, the girl she had just recognized. And she was kissing him. And behind them stood Dustin.

As if it was second nature, Juniper stepped back and out of sight. She felt her heart begin to race again as questions flooded her mind.

Do I walk down now? What do I say?

Who is that girl? Does Newton have a girlfriend?

Why did Newton talk to me, then? Is he playing me?

Is Newton friends with Dustin now?

Juniper’s beating heart overrode any rational thought. She bolted back up the stairs and down the hall to the staircase at the opposite end. She flew down them two steps at a time and exited onto the field by the school.

She ran as fast and as far as she could until her lungs burned for relief, trying her best to avoid the remnants of snow and ice, before dropping her books and sitting down on the curb of the sidewalk. She hung her head between her knees and cried.

“It’s not fair.” A tear rolled off her nose and disappeared into the grass. “It’s not supposed to be like this.” Juniper looked back at the school, balled her hands into fists, and narrowed her eyes as anger simmered behind them. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”

🔎

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