Enemy Match Chapter 6

Enemy Match 

Chapter 6

He might have been coming to see Daryl, or someone else and forgot something in his car, Van said.

I looked at Van. Do you really believe that?

Van just shrugged and looked away.

Come on, let’s go talk to Marcus. It’s high time I got acquainted with him.

Van and Raj followed me out into the bright sunshine. I noticed Marcus heading to a pick up truck at the back of the lot. I broke into a run to catch up with him.

He was tall and slim and had a blond brush cut. He was just getting into his pick up truck as I approached. He glared at me then broke into a grin as I went up to him.

Hey Marcus, I said. How’s it going? Here to see Daryl? You are Marcus Bricker, right?

Y-yeah, Justin, He stammered. Hey Van. Raj. How’s it going, he asked when they arrived.

Good, Marcus, Van said and Raj nodded.

I—ah—forgot I had—an appointment in a few minutes—Coach Detmar wants to see me—ah—about something. Say, everyone’s still talking about you trouncing Daryl yesterday, he went on. They’re also saying you poisoned his water. Not cool, Justin.

I didn’t poison his water, but someone did.

Oh? He asked, eyes widening.

Yeah, Daryl’s going to be OK, but he’s on a ventilator.

Marcus gulped. Really? That’s—not good.

No. Did you have something to do with it? I asked, trying to catch him off guard.

His face went pale. N-no of course not, Macdonald. Now leave me alone, I have to get to the school. Detmar’s waiting.

He went to pull the truck door but I held onto it.

Let go of the door, Macdonald, Marcus said, wrenching it from my grasp. It slammed shut with a bang. He started up the engine with a roar.

You’re acting awful suspicious, I blurted. Maybe I’ll go to the police, I said through the open truck window. I’ve already been accused I got nothing to lose—or to hide.

Marcus just stared ahead going even paler. He turned off the ignition and just sat in his truck, staring ahead.

You know something, don’t you?

He just shook his head. No, he said finally. Just leave me alone. I have to go. He started the truck up again and put it into reverse and pulled out of the spot.

He then stopped and pulled back into the spot and turned off the engine. He looked at me. You don’t understand, he said barely above a whisper. You don’t know what it’s like.

What “what” is like? I asked.

Being in that jerk’s shadow. No matter how hard I try he’s always better than me. I should be team captain and Coach Detmar had picked me until Peters went to him and changed his mind.

What are you confessing to? I asked. Did you put pesticide in Daryl’s water?

What?—no, he said, looking at me and shaking his head in confusion. What are you talking about?—someone put pesticide in his water? Whoa. I thought it was just a poison of some kind. Some kind of harmless stuff.

That’s what they’re saying, I said, glancing at Van and Raj. Why did you come to the hospital just now? I asked, turning back to Marcus.

I was going to have it out with Peters. I didn’t know he was unconscious, Marcus remarked. I was going to tell him I’m off the team. I can’t play on the team with him anymore. I don’t like him and don’t respect him any longer. He’s just a bully.

I looked at Van, then back at Marcus. Yeah, tell me about it. Finally someone sees him for who he really is.

Marcus just nodded. He doesn’t like you—at all, he added with a grin. In fact he hates you. He tells us guys to stay clear of you—like you’re some kind of fungus.

I’ve been called worse, I quipped.

Marcus was silent for a moment. I don’t know anything about pesticides in water, he said finally. I don’t like the guy either—any more but I wouldn’t go that far. Whoever did that is seriously messed up.

I exchanged glances with Van and Raj and nodded.

Do you really have an appointment with Detmar? I asked as he started up the truck again.

No, Marcus said sheepishly. But I do have to go.

OK. See you around then, I remarked.

Sure, he replied, then pulled out of the spot and drove off.

You don’t believe him, do you? Van asked.

No, not really. He was coming here to do more than talk to Peters, when he saw us he chickened out. But I don’t think he poisoned the water, though. He seemed surprised it was a pesticide used. I don’t know. It’s all messed up.

We headed to the mall for a little pre movie snack then went to the movie at 4. I actually enjoyed it despite everything that was going on.

Afterwards we headed to Billy Burger. We’re going to have to buy shares in this business, I quipped as we went in the entrance. We’re here enough. If any of us move out of town, Billy might be forced to declare bankruptcy.

Uh-oh, Van muttered as we went inside. Jake Prestwick was at a table in the back with a few guys from the basketball team. Marcus was with them.

We ordered and sat on the opposite side of the restaurant. Unfortunately it wasn’t going to be an uneventful visit. Jake approached our table just as we sat down.

Macdonald, what are you doing out of jail? Canning let you off, did he? Told you your old man got some pull with the local police.

He let me off because I’m not guilty, I said evenly.

Yeah, well, me and the guys don’t think so. We think you had something to do with it. I’d watch my back if I were you. Take that as a warning, he muttered then moved off.

Sheesh, you can’t go anywhere without those guys showing up and getting in your face, Van said, taking a bite of his Ginormous Bacon Cheeseburger.

Yeah, it seems worse than ever—the harassment, I said. Almost like—I don’t know I’m talking stupid.

Won’t be the first time, Van muttered, not missing a beat.

I turned to Raj. Why do I take abuse from this guy, hunh? I said pointing to Van.

I do not know, Justin, Raj said, wiping ketchup off his moustache. Because you like to suffer?

I do a lot of that, I mumbled.

But you do have a point, Van said, slopping Billy sauce again, but this time it landed on a napkin that he had wisely tucked into his t-shirt collar. Now that you’ve beaten Peters, his whole crew has stepped up the harassment. It is worse. You can’t go anywhere without one of these guys accusing you of harming their fearless leader. That Prestwick is going to lose his cool—well he already has, at school.

Almost like it was orchestrated. I wonder if that’s what this is all about.

What do you mean, Justin?, Raj asked.

I—don’t know, Van said, shaking his head. It’s a bit of a stretch. You think someone is putting fuel on this feud you’ve had with Peters for, what—years now?

If someone had something to gain by it, then yes, I do.

But who would have something to gain, Van replied.

It was my turn to shake my head. I don’t know—that’s the problem.

Under the withering glare of Jake Prestwick and his teammates, we left the restaurant around 8 pm. My face was starting to hurt so I decided to call it a night.

Thanks, guys, I said. You cheered me up as usual. I can always count on you.

You’re welcome, Van said and Raj nodded. Now get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.

I drove Van home, then Raj, then headed home myself. The lights were on in Matt’s apartment over the garage, but I was beat so I didn’t stop by his place. It had been a long couple of days and I was still in pain.

I headed up to my room and booted up my laptop to check my emails and Facebook. I was still deliberating whether to delete my account. Someone had hacked it and who knew what else they would post on there.

I didn’t have long to find out. My cell phone rang just as I was trying to log in with my password. It was Raj.

Did you see your Facebook status, he said as soon as I answered.

No, why? I was just about to check it.

Take a look, he said.

I tried my password three times but it didn’t work. I can’t log in, I muttered. I was able to a few hours ago. Now, someone’s changed the password. What’s on there, I said, not wanting to hear any more bad news.

Its not good, he said. You basically called the whole basketball team a bunch of losers and you without their leader—Daryl, that they wouldn’t win any games. You sounded very—how is it pronounced—arrogant. That is not like you, Justin, he added.

Great, I muttered.

There’s also a photo of you being congratulated at the school gym and a photo of Daryl on the ground, unconscious.

Whoa! That’s crazy. Those guys are going to be really pissed at me now. Especially Jake Prestwick. OK, can I come over to your place?

I could come over there, Justin, Raj suggested. I will bring my laptop then you can check out your page. I know you are not feeling the best, so this will save you a trip.

You’re my favourite friend, you know that, right?

Raj just laughed. I will be there in about half an hour.

You sure, it’s pretty late, I said checking my watch. It was almost 11 pm. But it was Saturday which meant no school tomorrow.

That is no problem, Justin, Raj said. I am not tired and I want to get a good workout on my bike that I just bought.

You bought a new bike?

Yes, he said. I will show it to you when I get there. It is really a nice bike. Very expensive too, he added. I had to save for months to get it.

That sounds great, buddy, see you in a bit. I hung up and tried to log in again but no avail. Someone had hacked into my account, posted pictures to taunt the rest of the basketball team. And changed my password. Someone who knew about computer hacking.

Whoever had taken the pictures had been there at the gym for the match. I pulled piece of paper from my desk drawer and started to make a list of everyone I could remember who was there on Friday night. Some of the people in the stands I didn’t know, but I knew most of the people.

I crossed out Van, Melissa and Reed as they didn’t take any pictures and they wouldn’t take one of Daryl on the ground.

Marcus Bricker was there as were a bunch of Jake Prestwick’s other teammates. I think his sister Jori was there as well.

So why taunt the team? I had supposedly taunted Daryl Peters into a match, then won the unwinnable match. But someone had put pesticide in the water bottle. That was just mean. Really mean. Well, actually it was pretty sick—and dangerous.

Now the basketball team and Jake Prestwick in particular would be gunning for me. Losing his cool—again.

But again—why? Who could possibly benefit from the team hating me? They already did hate me—because of Daryl’s influence. Or was it not me at all, but just someone getting the team to fall apart?

It was all confusing. Hopefully when Raj showed me the pictures, I would get a clue as to who had taken them.

A half hour had passed and Raj still hadn’t arrived. It usually took him 20 minutes by bike. Maybe he stopped by a store to get something on the way. 40 minutes and still no sign of him. It was nearly midnight. I went downstairs and out onto the front lawn. I peered up the street and saw someone walking along the sidewalk, pushing a bike. Was that Raj?

Sure enough, a few minutes later the figure came into view. It was Raj and he was limping. I walked down to meet him.

What happened? I said, noticing his left knee was bleeding.

He looked at me with a pained expression. Someone hit me while I was riding the bike, he muttered between gritted teeth.

Oh, no! I blurted. Are you OK? Did you see who it was?

No—I mean Yes, I’m OK, now, he said. They didn’t stop but I know who it was who hit me. It was your friend, Jake Prestwick.