Tess Gerritsen - Bloodstream

They came together in another kiss. Firmer, deeper, drawing courage from each other’s lips. He put his arm around her, and she was as soft as he’d imagined, like sweet-smelling, lustrous silk. Now she had her arm around him as well, her hand clinging to the back of his neck, claiming him.

The locker door slammed wide open, and suddenly there was someone else standing there.

“What a touching scene,” sneered J.D.

Amelia jumped back, staring at her stepbrother.

“You cheap little tease,” said J.D., and he gave her a shove.

Amelia shoved right back. “Don’t you touch me!”

“Oh. You’d rather have Noah Effiot feel you up?”

“That’s it!” said Noah. He advanced on J.D., his hand already closed in a fist.

Then he froze. Mr. Sanborn had just walked out of the band room and was standing in the hail, eyeing them both.

“Outside,” said J.D. softly, eyes glittering. “The parking lot. Now.”

Fern Cornwallis dashed out of the building and ran through ankle-deep snow toward the faculty parking lot. By the time she reached the brawling boys, her brand new leather pumps were soaked through and her toes were numb. She was in no mood to be reasonable. She shoved her way into the circle of spectators and grabbed one of the boys by his jacket. It’s Noah Elliot again, she thought furiously as she hauled him away from J.D. Reid. J.D. snorted like a mad bull and rammed his shoulder into Noah’s chest, sending both Noah and Fern sprawling.

Fern landed flat on her back on the pavement, grinding sand and dirt into her wool suit. She scrambled to her feet, snagging her nylons in the process.

Uncontrollable rage pulsing through her, she charged right back into the fight, this time grabbing hold of J.D.’s collar. She yanked him back so hard his face turned purple and he made choking sounds, but he continued to flail his arms, fists waving in Noah’s general direction.

Two teachers dashed to Fern’s aid, each one grabbing an arm, and they dragged J.D. backwards across the pavement.

“You stay away from my sister, Elliot!”

“I never touched your sister!” Noah yelled back.

“That’s not what I saw!”

“Then you’re blind and stupid!”

“I see you two together again, I kick both your asses!”

“Stop it! Both of you!” screamed Amelia, pushing forward and planting herself between the two boys. “You’re such a loser, J.D.!”

“Better a loser than the school slut.”

Amelia’s face flushed bright red. “Shut up.”

“Slut,” J.D. spat out. “Slut, slut.”

Noah broke free and rammed his fist into J.D.’s mouth. The loud thunk of bone on flesh was as startling as gunshot in the crisp air.

Blood splattered on the snow.

“Some sort of action has to be taken,” said Mrs. Lubec, the sophomore history teacher. “We can’t keep putting out small fires, Fern, while the whole forest burns down around us?’

Fern huddled in a borrowed sweatsuit and gulped her cup of tea. She knew everyone sitting around the conference table was watching her and waiting for some sort of decision, but they could damn well wait a little longer. She had to get warm first, had to get the feeling back in her frostbitten bare feet, which were now swaddled in a towel under the table. The sweatsuit smelled like perspiration and stale perfume. It smelled like its owner, chubby Miss Boodles, the gym teacher, and it was stretched and saggy around the hips. Fern suppressed a shudder and focused on the five people sitting around the conference table. In two hours, she was scheduled to meet with the district superintendent of schools, and she had to present him with a new plan of action. For that, she needed guidance from her staff.

In the room with her now was the vice principal, two teachers, the school guidance counselor, and the district psychologist, Dr. Lieberman. Lieberman was the only man in the room, and he’d assumed that superior attitude that men often adopt when they’re the lone rooster among hens.

The freshmen English teacher said, “I think it’s time to clamp down harder. Be draconian. If it takes armed guards in the hallways and permanent expulsion of troublemakers, then that’s what we do.”

“That’s not the approach I would take,” said Dr. Lieberman, adding with a noted lack of humility, “in my humble opinion.”

“We’ve tried intensive counseling,” said Fern. “We’ve tried conflict resolution classes. We’ve tried suspension, detention, and pleading. We’ve even taken desserts off the menu to cut down on their sugar. These kids are out of control, and I don’t know whose fault it is. I do know that my staff is wrung out, and I’m ready to call in the cavalry.” She glanced at the vice principal. “Where’s Chief Kelly? Isn’t he joining us?”

“I left a message with the dispatcher. Chief Kelly’s been delayed this morning.”

“Must be those late-night vehicle inspections,” Mrs. Lubec wisecracked.

Fern looked at her. “What?”

“I heard it over at Monaghan’s. The Dinosaurs were all talking about it.”

“What did they say?” Fern’s question came out more sharply than she’d intended.

She fought to regain her composure, to keep the flush from rising to her cheeks.

“Oh, Chief Kelly and that Dr. Elliot were really steaming up the car windows last night. I mean, it’s not like the poor man doesn’t deserve a break, after all these years Mrs. Lubec’s voice trailed off as she saw Fern’s thunderstruck face.

“Look, can we get back to the problem at hand?” cut in Lieberman.

“Yes. By all means,” whispered Fern. It’s only gossip. Lincoln defends the woman in public, and the next thing you know, the town thinks they’re sleeping together. Just a few months ago, Fern herself had been the rumored woman in his life. More false gossip, based on the long hours they’d worked together on the student DARE project. She forced the subject of Claire Elliot out of her mind, and focused her irritation on Lieberman, who was trying to wrest control of her meeting.

“Brute authority doesn’t work well with this age group,” he was saying. “We’re talking about a stage of development where authority is precisely what they rebel against. Clamping down on these kids- asserting your power-doesn’t give them the right message.”

“I’m beyond caring what message I give these kids,” said Fern. “My responsibility is to keep them from killing each other.”

“Then threaten them with the loss of something that matters to them. Sports, class trips. What about that dance you had on the schedule? That’s a pretty major social event for them, isn’t it?”

“We’ve canceled the harvest dance twice already,” said Fern. “The first time because of Mrs. Horatio, the second time because of all these fights.”

“But don’t you see, it’s something positive you can hold out to them. A carrot for good behavior. I wouldn’t cancel it. What other incentives do they have?”

“How about the threat of death?” muttered the English teacher. “Positive reinforcement,” said Lieberman. “That’s the mantra we have to keep in mind.

Positive. Positive.”

“The dance could be a disaster,” said Fern. “Two hundred kids in a crowded gym.

All it takes is one fistfight, and we’d end up with-a screaming mob.”

“Then you weed out the troublemakers ahead of time. That’s what I mean by positive reinforcement. Any kid steps one inch out of line, they don’t get to go.” He paused. “Those two boys today-the ones who got in the fight.”

“Noah Effiot and J.D. Reid.”

“Start off by making examples of them?’

“I’ve suspended them for the rest of the week,” said Fern. “Their parents are coming to pick them up now.”