Fight School
Chapter Eleven
Haley was asleep, or appeared to be, when Charlie heard his name being called. He untangled himself from the blankets and left the bed when he heard her stir next to him.
"What is it?" she mumbled.
"I think I have to go," Charlie said.
"Yeah go ahead, get out of here," said Haley, waving her hand, face half buried in the pillows.
"You're going to be okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." She seemed like she was already falling asleep again. "I live like two houses away," she said, voice muffled by the pillows. "I'm gonna go home in the morning. Close the door behind you."
Charlie had to smile. He was kind of disappointed that he wouldn't see Haley again, most likely, but somehow, that seemed to only preserve her. Seeing her again would kind of ruin this crazy night and make her mundane all over again.
"Bye," he said.
He heard her say "see you" as he shut the door.
The party was still going strong; the heavy wooden door must have effectively blocked out a lot of the music that he could hear downstairs. As he passed by the large grandfather clock in the hallway, he read the time to be nearing two a.m. He was getting tired.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was suddenly accosted by Averman and Goldberg.
"Man where were you?" Averman cried.
"Upstairs," he said, nonchalantly. "What's up?"
"What's up?" Goldberg repeated. "What's up?!"
"Chill Goldberg, he doesn't know," Averman said.
"What happened?" Charlie asked, bemused. Worry began to prickle at the skin on his arms.
"It's Guy," Averman said. "He decided to play this sick game, I don't know, Charlie. Him and McGill. I don't know, maybe McGill put him up to it."
"Where is he?"
"We don't know," Goldberg said.
Averman shrugged hopelessly. "He disappeared after Adam stopped the game."
"Adam?" Charlie asked.
"Yeah he nearly broke McGill's jaw. Told him to leave us alone."
"And you trust that?" asked Charlie, exasperation in his voice. "It's Banks."
"Well what are we supposed to think, Charlie?" Goldberg demanded. "You weren't exactly looking out for Guy today. I'm glad Adam stopped it. He was the only one who probably could."
"I still don't trust him," Charlie said. "He must have brought us here knowing that would happen! He's trying to break us down, to get rid of us, like everyone else at this school."
"Are you hearing yourself Charlie? You sound like a paranoid freak," Averman said. "What you should be is grateful that he's at least on our side."
"Our side?" Charlie echoed. "No, even if I'm being ridiculous I know that at least is false. Banks doesn't have sides. He'll only do what benefits himself."
"No offense, Charlie," Goldberg said, in an ironic voice. "It kind of seems like that's what you're doing, not him."
Charlie stared, open-mouthed, after his friends as they walked away from him and disappeared in the crowd.
The door to Haley's room quietly opened and a figure slipped in to sit at the edge of the bed. They appeared to stare at the prone figure of the girl, chest slowly moving up and down in deep, even breaths, then moved to gently shake her shoulder.
"You can stop acting now," Adam said. Haley jumped up, any sign of sleep completely disappeared.
"I almost fell asleep," she shot back. "Waiting for you. What took so long?"
"I had some other business to take care of," he said, off-handedly and vaguely.
Haley scowled. "More stuff that you'll probably never tell me about?"
"That's right. And to think some boys only like you for your looks and not your brain," he said.
"Oh shut up. So whose lives are you planning on destroying now?" Haley sat up and pulled the cover around her, pulling her bare legs up to her chest.
"I do not destroy lives," Adam said, a bit irritably. His usual guardedness and cool was beginning to dissolve as he settled himself more comfortably on the bed. "In fact, I'm planning on doing some good this time. You know, give back to the community and all of that."
"Bullshit," Haley said, laughing. "Even if you win a humanitarian award, it'd probably be a byproduct of some scheme to benefit yourself."
Adam shrugged. "No harm in that; I help myself and others. Sounds like a win-win situation."
"Except everyone can't win," Haley said. "You know it, from all those twisted games you Eden Hallers play. Someone has to lose."
"Oh, well, I won't be saintly enough to sacrifice myself as the loser, if that's what you're going to ask," Adam said, mildly.
"I knew you wouldn't."
"Congratulations for wooing Charlie Conway, by the way," he said.
"Is that supposed to be some way of patting yourself on the back?" Haley asked. "You're the one who told me to."
"Only because I could tell how much you liked him from the look in your eyes," Adam said, batting his own eyes in effect.
"You're a right comedian today," Haley said, dryly. "And you know I wouldn't have tried it if you didn't tell me to. Jen's going to be pissed at me for a month. So what was the reason for that? You couldn't have just been playing matchmaker."
Adam tapped her mouth with a finger. "More secrets I can't divulge."
"You're such an ass, Adam," she said.
"Girls go crazy at the word 'secret,' have you noticed?" he asked. "Let's just say it benefits me."
"You haven't changed one bit," Haley said. "Since we were in first grade. You always had to be the best and you don't care who you ruin on your way to the top. Sometimes I think you're different but you always prove me wrong."
Adam was silent for a moment, his light, joking mood completely disappeared.
"If you don't think I've changed," he said, quietly. "Then you don't know me as well as I thought you did."
"So I have some bad news," Adam said, as he and Charlie climbed back into his car.
"Guy? Yeah, I heard," Charlie said, curtly.
Adam gave him a sidelong glance. "You mad at me, Conway? I didn't know something like that was going to go down. That game's illegal and McGill's insane, everyone knows that."
"So you didn't know your cronies were planning on jumping Guy like they did just a few days before?"
"If I had known Guy didn't check the lists and really seem to care about his own welfare, then I would have told him to keep his ass at home tonight. I don't know why Cole went for Guy but it made Julie make a huge upset in the lists."
Charlie, not knowing this, kept quiet and tense, not wanting to be charmed, be won over, by Adam, but at the same time, kind of wishing maybe he really was a decent person.
"Then on top of that, Guy made out of Julie tonight and Scooter saw. He's had a thing for Julie since…well since she came to school here. McGill is crazy, I told you. Even if he hadn't had those totally convenient excuses to go after Guy, he probably would have found some other reason. He's just in it to get you and the rest of the Ducks out of here. So, to be honest, the best thing for Guy to have done is to have stayed home. But none of us really realized that until it was too late."
Charlie stayed quiet as they watched the dark blur outside their windows, only an occasional light from a house breaking the continuous blackness. It would only be until they got into the city by Charlie's house that it would get lighter; the suburbs were only speckled with a few streetlights.
"McGill is completely ruined, at least for this semester," Adam said. "So there's something."
"Why do you play this game?" Charlie suddenly asked. "You're at the top. You could abolish it."
Adam laughed, a bitter and short laugh. "Actually, Charlie, I can't. Leaders come and go but this game has been a constant at Eden Hall for generations. I play the game because I have to, and if I have to, I'd rather be at the top than at the bottom." He looked at Charlie.
"I think you'd agree."
And, driving through the quiet, dark suburbs, Charlie felt the strange sensation of realizing he had something in common with Adam Banks.
Adam was halfway up the stairs when he heard his father call his name. Although it was past three, there was light pouring from underneath the heavy door to his study. He took his time coming back down the stairs and pushed the door open and stood at the threshold, refusing to go in any further. His father stood by the dark, mahogany desk, strewn with papers held down by various crystal paperweights. He had a file in his hand and was inspecting it, a pair of rectangular, tortoiseshell glasses on the end of his sharp, thin nose. A half-empty crystal tumbler filled with amber colored liquid was set precariously on top of a stack of reports.
"You're late?" he inquired.
"Based on what?" Adam asked. "My nonexistent curfew?" If his dad was going to just pull a lot of nonsense, authoritative bullshit on him, he was not in the mood.
"Who were you taking home today?" His dad was casually flipping through the papers of the file although Adam knew his dad was much too invested in dictating his life that he was much more interested in the conversation than he was letting on.
"Charlie."
"Charlie who?"
"Conway."
"The scholarship boy."
"Sure." Adam turned to leave.
"I don't like you associating with people like him, Adam," said his father, putting down his file. He gestured towards the chair before the large desk, telling him to sit down. Adam allowed himself to turn back around and take a couple of steps closer but didn't sit down.
"Is this about hockey?" he asked. "Adam, you need to mature and realize hockey won't get you anywhere."
"Like how Charlie wouldn't have gotten anywhere near the gates of Eden Hall without hockey?" Adam said, ironically.
His father rubbed the end of his nose and picked up his drink. Adam noticed it left a brown ring on the papers below it. His father, also noticing, absently ran a finger along the line, tracing the circle over and over again.
"It's different. You're different," he said. "You shouldn't be playing hockey, Adam. Riley, Larson, McGill, all the other boys play it to have something to do during lacrosse and soccer off-season. They only play charity games for godsakes."
"Maybe that has something to do with the fact that they can't play worth shit," Adam replied.
"It's a low class sport," his father countered.
"And what would you have me do?" Adam asked. "Play polo? Prance around on a horse? Play competitive squash wearing white shorts and cuffed socks like the Upper East Side?"
His father was staring at Adam now; all pretense of casualness was gone.
"Well if you haven't noticed, Dad, we're not exactly part of that anymore," Adam said. He was beginning to enjoy the redness of agitation spreading across his father's neck.
"Yeah, you wish we were back in New York, don't you? You miss being with all the yuppies and bluebloods. You want to have a summer home up in New Hampshire with all your old fraternity brothers."
"You watch your words," his father said, voice low and measured.
Adam barreled on, adrenaline starting to work its deadly influences. "And now you're here in the boondocks of Minnesota, trying to impress all of these middle-class ignorant, impressionable suburbans with your stories of how we used to live. Why do they think we transferred? Because of business? Yeah, I guess that's true."
His father's grip on the tumbler was getting tighter and tighter, the knuckles showing white, hand shaking.
"Yeah, I mean, if you weren't caught screwing your business partner's wife I guess he wouldn't have dropped your ass out of the contract."
"You will quit hockey, I will make you."
"No." Adam started walking to his door. "No, I will play for Eden Hall and I will own the team and every victory. I will be scouted and go to school on scholarship and not have to use a dime of your filthy money."
He slammed the door behind him and as he walked into the quiet foyer, he could hear the breaking of glass against the wall as his father threw his tumbler in frustration. And Adam found he really couldn't bring himself to give a damn.