D. MacHale - The Never War

The truth was, nothing had happened. Courtney was always big for her age. It was one of the reasons she had been so good at sports. But between the ninth and tenth grades, the other girls caught up. Girls who had been too small to compete with Courtney were suddenly eye to eye with her. It wasn’t that Courtney had suddenly gotten bad, it was that everybody else had grown up and gotten better. Much better. For Courtney it was an absolute, total nightmare. But she wouldn’t let it show. No way.

On the sidelines Mark sat under a tree, watching practice. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Everybody had bad days, but seeing Courtney struggle like this was disturbing. There were some things in life that were absolute. He knew that pi times the radius squared gave you the area of a circle; he knew that water was made up of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen; and he knew that if you challenged Courtney Chetwynde, you would lose.

The last one of Mark’s all-time truisms was now being proved wrong. It was the perfect way to end a totally crappy day.

“Looks like she ain’t so tough after all,” came a familiar voice from behind Mark.

Mark looked up quickly to see that the horror of this day wasn’t yet complete. Standing over him was Andy Mitchell. The guy snorted back a lougie and spit, barely missing Mark’s hand. Mark spun out of the way, but Mitchell flicked his cigarette butt in the other direction and Mark nearly rolled into it. Mark had to pop to his feet or risk getting gobbed on.

“What’sa matter, Dimond?” Mitchell laughed. “Twitchy?”

“What do you want?” Mark grumbled.

“Hey, don’t get all testy with me,” Mitchell shot back. “I’m just out here having a smoke. Seeing Chetwynde getting whupped up on was a bonus.” Mitchell wheezed out a laugh through yellowed, smoke-stained teeth.

“Go away,” was all Mark managed to squeak out. He turned and walked off, but Mitchell followed.

“I didn’t forget, Dimond,” Mitchell snarled. “About them journals. Pendragon is out there somewhere. You know it and I know it and I know you know I know it.”

Truth be told, there was a third person who knew about what happened to Bobby Pendragon. It was Andy Mitchell. Mitchell had seen one of Bobby’s journals and blackmailed Mark into showing him the rest.

Mark turned to Mitchell, standing toe to toe with him. “All I know is, you’re an idiot. And I’m not afraid of you anymore!”

Mark and Andy held each other’s gaze. Mark had had enough of this bully and would almost welcome a fight. Almost. Mark wasn’t a fighter. If Mitchell called his bluff and took a swing, things would get real ugly, real fast. For Mark.

“Hey, Mitchell,” Courtney said.

She stood behind Mitchell with her gear bag in one hand and her cleats in the other. She looked tired and dirty and not in the mood to be messed with. “What are you doing in high school? I thought you’d be out stealing cars by now.”

Andy ducked away from her. He didn’t mess with Courtney, no matter how bad she looked playing soccer.

“Real funny, Chetwynde,” Mitchell sneered. “You two think you’re being all smart, but I know.”

“What do you know?” Courtney asked.

Mark said, “He knows we know he knows… or something like that. You know?”

Mark and Courtney chuckled. They knew Mitchell wasn’t a threat to them anymore. He wasn’t smart enough for that.

“Yeah, you laugh,” he sneered. “But I read those journals. You gonna laugh when that Saint Dane dude comes here looking for them?”

With that, Mitchell snorted back another good one, then turned and hurried away.

Mark and Courtney weren’t chuckling anymore. They silently watched Mitchell jog off. Then Courtney said, “Well, today pretty much… sucked.”

The two walked to catch the late bus home. Normally Courtney would sit in the back of the bus with the cool kids and Mark would sit up front with the not-cool kids. Not today. There were a couple of girls in back who had just taken Courtney apart on the soccer field. They were sitting with some guys from the football team, laughing and flirting. Courtney wasn’t welcome. She had to sit in the front of the bus with Mark. It was the final indignity.

“You want to tell me about your day?” Courtney asked.

“No,” answered Mark. “You?”

“No.”

They rode in silence, both wondering if the rest of high school was going to be as painful as the first few hours. Finally Courtney asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Mark glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. He kept his voice low, just in case. “I’ve been thinking,” he began. “Remember what I said before? In spite of what Mitchell just said, I think we dodged a bullet. When the Travelers stopped Saint Dane on First Earth, I think they saved all three Earth territories. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Courtney said, then added with growing annoyance, “and I remember you saying how disappointed you were because you wanted Saint Dane to come here so you could help Bobby fight him. And I remember saying that you were totally crazy. Do you remember that part, Markie boy?”

Mark nodded.

“Good,” Courtney said. “Then stop thinking so much.”

“But still,” Mark added. “I want to be able to help Bobby.”

“Wearehelping him,” Courtney corrected. “We’re holding his journals.”

“But that’s like almost nothing,” Mark countered. “I want to really help him.”

“We can’t, Mark.”

Mark gave her a sly smile. “Don’t be so sure.”

Courtney gave Mark a long, probing look.”Now what are you thinking?”

“I want to become an acolyte. I want us both to become acolytes.”

“Aco-whats?”

“You know, acolytes. Bobby wrote about them. The people from the territories who help the Travelers. They put supplies by the flumes for the Travelers. They’re the ones who kept Press’s motorcycle, and had his car ready when he got back. It’s totally safe, but really important.”

“Safe?” Courtney shot back. “You think going to that abandoned subway in the Bronx and getting past those quig-dogs is safe?”

“Maybe there’s another flume here on Second Earth,” Mark added hopefully. “They have more than one flume on other territories, why not here?”

“And what if it’s in Alaska?” Courtney lobbed back. “You want to move to Alaska?”

“After the day I had, absolutely.”

“You don’t mean that.”

The two rode in silence for a few more stops. A couple of the soccer girls got off and made a point of ignoring Courtney. Courtney didn’t care. Her mind was back on the journals, and Bobby.

“I know you care, Mark,” Courtney said softly. “I do too. But even if I thought this acolyte thing was a good idea, how would we do it?”

Mark sat up straight, encouraged that Courtney was at least considering it.

“I don’t know, but when Bobby was home I talked to him about it-“

“You already asked Bobby?” Courtney interrupted. “Without talking to me first?”

“All I did was ask him to look into it,” Mark said. “He didn’t know any more about acolytes than he wrote, but he promised to try and find out. What do you think?”

“I think I gotta think about it. And I think this is my stop.” Courtney stood.

“Promise me that?” Mark asked. “You’ll think about it?”

“Yeah,” Courtney answered. “But I gotta know more.”

“Absolutely,” Mark said.

Courtney swung down the bus stairs and out the door. Mark felt better than he had all day. He felt sure that if Bobby got them information about the acolytes, Courtney would join up with him. It was a great feeling to know he might actually have a shot at helping Bobby in a real way.