Date: Thu, 23 Jun 2005 01:50:19 -0700
From: RC in Sacramento <sacwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: Munchkin Chapter 21

This is a work of fiction. It depicts the often sexual relationship between
two young girls. If this offends you or if you're not old enough to be
reading this stuff, then get out NOW. If, however, you're where you want to
be, then enjoy.

			 MUNCHKIN
			 Chapter 21
			by Sacwriter

       It happened while Joe was perched on a middle seat of the old wooden
bleachers, surrounded by the circle of his friends. Some of them were
talking in low murmurs, but mostly they were silent, listening as he played.
Kelly had requested he play 'something kinda nasty', so he had obliged with
a really hard core version of Nasty Woman. The infectious rhythms were
having their usual affect, Sammie and Kelly were clapping along, while
everyone else were moving and swaying in their seats. Justine, ever the more
excitable of the three Gap Girls, was standing up on her seat and
uninhibitedly bumping and shimmying to the old blues song. Joe had to stop
several times because he was laughing so hard. He was just wrapping up Nasty
and was thinking about his next selection when everything went to hell.

        	"BECKA!!"
	Gia's scream startled everyone, all the people who had gathered in the
bleachers to hear Joe play, as it rang out over them and echoed across the
empty sports field. Every eye immediately fixed on the shocked face of the
young Latina, watched as it quickly morphed into a twisted expression of
horror. Something was wrong, something bad had happened, and even though it
wasn't possible, somehow Gia had been there when it did. There was an
instant of total silence, when the whole world seemed to have stopped dead
in its tracks and was holding its collective breath.
	The moment ended, shattered like fine crystal, as Gia spun around and
scrambled off the hard wooden seat and leapt to the ground. She stumbled for
a moment, regained her feet and then dashed back towards the old school
building.
	Milo and the Kings were the last to understand the significance of Gia's
actions, as none of them were aware of the strange psychic bond that the two
sisters shared. But the girls had seen proof of it many times before, and
when Sammie snapped "COME ON!" and sprang in pursuit of their friend,
Justine and Kelly were close behind without bothering to ask questions. The
astonished Kings looked at each other, not understanding what was going on,
just knowing that all the beautiful girls who had started hanging with them
were suddenly leaving. Naturally they followed, and just as quickly as they
could.
	Joe was left sitting all by himself, his face pale, his body as rigid as
stone. He knew what had happened the second that Gia had screamed, knew it
before Sammie or either of the other girls had. Knew that somewhere Becka
Jackson was hurt, and that it was somehow connected to him and his troubles.
For what seemed like an eternity he sat there, one second slipping into ten,
into fifteen. Unable to move, unable to hear anything but the quiet little
voice that was screaming inside his head. Finally with a jerk he roused
himself, tears already stinging his eyes as he climbed from the bleachers
and started running, as hard and as fast as he had ever run before. His
father's harmonica clenched in one white knuckled hand, forgotten.

	Joe caught up to his friends just inside the side door into the school,
where they milled around aimlessly, with no idea which way Gia had gone.
"This way!" he called, as he pushed past them and headed towards the stairs
and up to the second floor. They followed him, and were right on his heels
when he burst through the door at the head of the stairs, and into the
second floor hallway. From there it was obvious where they had to go, as a
milling crowd of people had completely blocked the hall about halfway down
the building. Right in front of where Joe's locker was.
	The crowd was too thick to see what was at its center, and likewise when he
tried to force his way in. He just didn't have enough mass, he ended up
bouncing off the edges like a ping pong ball. Fortunately, the arrival of
his friends solved that problem. With seven more bodies adding their bulk to
his Joe was finally able to bull his way through to the other side, where
the sight there froze him in his tracks, and dropped his heart down into his
stomach as he saw all the blood.
	Becka lay on her back on the hard tile floor, her head cradled in her
sister's lap. Gia sat behind her, holding her in her small brown arms, her
eyes swollen and glistening from the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Red
smears of blood made obscene blotches on the blonde girl's face, staining
the white front of her blouse. Joe felt an instant of pure horror, then a
relief that almost drove him to his knees when he saw Becka raise her hand
and feebly struggle to sit up.
	Three teachers were crouched on the ground next to the two girls. Joe
recognized one of them as Mrs. Kennedy, his Civics teacher from last year.
"Can you stand up, Sweetie?" she asked, offering Becka her hand. The blonde
girl nodded, and with the help of the teacher and Gia she soon stood on
wobbly feet.
	"Back off and give her some room, people!" one of the other teachers
snapped at the crowd, which had started to close in. "This period is not
over, so I suggest that you all return to your classes. Yvonne, do you want
to help Becka downstairs to the Nurse's office?" This last was said to Mrs.
Kennedy, who murmured something and nodded in assent.
	"I'm going with them. She's my sister," Gia said. The teacher who had
spoken out and dispersed the crowd started to object, but one look at the
determination on Gia's face apparently convinced him that such an order
would be worse than ignored. He nodded instead, and as Mrs. Kennedy led the
two Camerons away he and the remaining teacher turned there attentions to
herding the crowd of students back to class.
	Off to the side, Becka and Gia's friends stood in a knot, unsure of what to
do. They still had ten minutes before their next class, but no one felt like
going back to the cafeteria or out to the bleachers. What they really wanted
to do was to follow Mrs. Kennedy and find out what had happened to Becka, to
reassure themselves that she really was alright, but they had just been
forbidden to do that. Instead they milled around in the hallway uncertainly,
talking in quiet voices.
	Sammie Waters looked around for Joe, wanting to reassure him and to be
reassured in kind, but she couldn't find him. "Joe? Hey, has anybody seen
Joe?" she asked, but was met by puzzled looks. Her new boyfriend was nowhere
to be found.

	After Becka had been brought to her feet and the teachers were talking
about taking her to the Nurse's office, Joe had quietly backed his way out
of the crowd. When he got to its fringes he turned around and started down
the hallway, moving fast but not hurrying, doing nothing to attract
attention. This changed though as soon as he had turned the corner and was
back in the stairwell. With a sudden burst of frantic energy Joe virtually
flew down the two flights, his feet barely touching the stairs in his mad
descent. At the bottom he bounced off the wall to slow himself down, then
barreled his way through the doors that led into the first floor hallway.
Once there he ran, racing down the empty hallway until he reached the far
end just short of the main doors and the Administration offices. There he
stopped, found a convenient locker and pretended to be working the
combination lock, but all the time keeping a close watch on the elevator
that they used for the handicapped students.
	A couple of minutes later, the metal doors of the elevator slid open with a
soft pneumatic hiss. Out stepped the forms of Mrs. Kennedy and Gia,
sandwiching a still wobbling Becka between them. The blonde girl had her
head tilted back, and was gingerly holding a bloody handkerchief to her
nose. Joe felt his heart rate double at the sight. Was Becka walking
straighter, or was that just a trick of his mind? No, she definitely was
showing more strength, her movements were much more coordinated. She was
going to be alright. The wave of relief was like a cold knife being
withdrawn from his heart.
	Joe waited until the three women had opened the door to the office, then
padded across the hallway on silent feet. Using his small size and the
skills he had developed over the past three years, he caught the door before
it closed and slipped inside, completely unnoticed by either the three he
was following, or the rest of the occupants of the office.
	While Becka was hustled off to see the nurse, Joe found a chair outside her
office and concentrated on being unobtrusive. There were some magazines and
old copies of the school newspaper on a table next to his chair. Joe picked
one up and leaned his head against the wall, pretending to read, but all the
time actually trying to hear the muffled conversation going on in the other
room.
				* * *
	Becka lay back on the examining table in the nurse's office, an ice pack
held to her swollen nose. The nurse had said that her nose was broken, but
Becka could have told her that. It had been broken twice before, both times
by her stepfather. It wasn't that big a deal, and the same went for the
black eye and the bruising. But the nurse still wanted her to have her face
x-rayed, in case she had fractured a cheekbone or something, so that meant a
trip to the hospital. She sighed, knowing that she couldn't get out of it,
and knowing also that her Dad would have to be called about this. And
probably the police too, dammit. Irritated, she lay the ice pack down and
started to probe at her tender nose and badly bruised face.
	"If you don't stop fussing, I'm going to rip up some of these sheets and
tie you down! You heard what the doctor said, Becka."
	"Gia, she's not a doctor, she's just a high school nurse, for cryin' out
loud. Anybody who needs more than Bactine and a bandaid, she sends to the
freakin' hospital. C'mon, you know this looks a lot worse than it is. Hell,
Ralph used to slap me around a lot more than this all the time."
	"Damn you, I know that! I was there the last time, remember?" Gia snapped,
almost shouting in a sudden fury. Angry at Becka, angry at the world, angry
at herself. She stood there glaring at the injured girl, her fists clenched
and her body shaking, and then quickly spun around to face away from her.
She clutched at her elbows and hugged herself, as if trying to hold
everything together and prevent it all from flying apart. Her next words
were spoken softly, and echoed more with pain than with anger.
	"I thought you were going to die then, too."
	Becka sighed again, feeling contrite and more than a little ashamed. One of
the benefits of her and Gia's bond was the way that they always knew exactly
what the other was feeling. Normally she treasured that sense, but at other
times it could be a real pain in the ass. Silently Becka held out her hand,
and waited patiently until Gia finally reached behind her and grasped it.
She wasn't the least bit surprised that Gia hadn't needed to look around to
know that the hand was there.
	"Gia, I love you, and I know that you were scared. But baby, I'm going to
be okay. I've got a broken nose and some nasty bruises, but that's all. It
was just a stupid firecracker, a cherry bomb or something. Look, we've gotta
call Dad, before the school does. If he doesn't hear from me that I'm okay,
he'll be down here with the boys, ready to take this place apart."
	"Maybe they should," Gia muttered darkly. Becka grunted, but otherwise let
the comment pass, knowing that it meant her sister was finally getting a
hold on her emotions.
	"Look, where's your cell phone?"
	"Umm, in my purse, which is still out by the bleachers. I kind of forgot
it. But I got yours, it's over there by those chairs."
	"Okay, get my cell for me, would you? And then you better go get your
purse, you don't want to leave it out there. You might not have noticed, but
there's some real assholes running around this place."
	Gia snorted, then laughed out loud, a short bark of a sound that indicated
the release of tension more than it did actual humor. Without another word
spoken or needed, she fetched her sister's cell phone for her, then held her
hand for a few long moments after handing it over. She longed to kiss Becka,
but one look at the bloody, bandaged face convinced her that it probably
wouldn't be appreciated. Instead she brought Becka's hand up to her lips and
gently pressed them to her lover's fingers, before turning around and
hurrying out the door.

	In the waiting room outside, Joe saw Gia come out and jumped to his feet,
hurrying to intercept her. "Gia! Is Becka, is she..."
	"Wha-oh, Joe. Look, umm, Becka's going to be fine. She's got a broken nose,
and maybe a cracked cheekbone, we're not sure yet. But she's okay, really.
Look, I've got to go, I'll be back in a few minutes. Why don't you go in and
see for yourself, okay? And look, take care of this for me, will you?"
	Gia still held Becka's purse, having decided not to leave it where some
curious teacher might be tempted to peak inside. Not with the mini arsenal
her sister usually carried in the oversized bag. She had intended to keep it
with her until she could stash it in Becka's locker, but decided instead to
give it too Joe to watch. Giving the distraught boy something to do,
anything, would be better than to let him sit all by himself and brood.
	Joe stood there, watching Becka's sister as she disappeared out the door
and down the hallway. Relief hit him like a wave, turning his legs into
rubber, so that he had to return to his chair or risk falling down. His
heart was still pounding, but the headache that felt like a vice on the back
of his neck was quickly fading.
	"Becka's going to be fine."
	Gia's words re-echoed in his head. She wasn't dead, and he hadn't killed
her.
	Although the office was busy with all the comings and goings of both
students and staff, no one seemed to notice the small figure huddled in the
corner. Joe sat outside the nurse's office for a long time, letting his
tumbled thoughts and emotions sort themselves out. The crazy rollercoaster
ride inside of him was slowly smoothing out, leaving only two feelings
paramount in his soul. First, the overwhelming guilt, because he knew that
it was his fault that Becka was hurt. If she hadn't helped him this past
week, if he hadn't dragged her and her family into his problems, then she
wouldn't have been lying in that hallway covered in blood. Looking so pale,
so weak and vulnerable. Just remembering it sent a pain stabbing through his
gut. And secondly, Joe felt something even darker than the guilt, a black
knot in his belly that he had never allowed himself to feel before.
Something he finally recognized as rage.
	A killing rage.

	Becka had gotten another Ibuprofen from the nurse along with a fresh ice
pack, and was now laying down on the bed, waiting for the throbbing in her
face to go away. The conversation with her father had gone pretty much as
she had expected, and despite all of her reassurances she knew that he would
be down here as fast as the traffic allowed. And if he was coming, any of
her brothers who heard about it would be tagging along, too. Nothing would
keep the male Camerons away, if they heard that she or Gia had been hurt.
The thought made her smile, that so many people cared about her was still a
cause of wonder. It was embarrassing, but also pretty damned nice, too.
	There was a knock on the office door, and the nurse got up and answered it.
After a quiet conversation the woman nodded her head and let two people in.
The Principal, Mr. Garrett, and a uniformed police officer carrying a
briefcase. Becka's eyebrow quirked up in surprise. It had never occurred to
her that they would call in the cops over a little firecracker. That seemed
a bit much. She sat up on the bed and swung her legs over the edge to face
her two visitors, but didn't bother to get up. Instead she raised her head
and took the ice pack from her face and let them have a good look at all the
damage. The cop examined her with a professional's detachment, but Mr.
Garrett winced and turned away.
	"Miss Jackson, my name is Sgt Breen, and I'm with the Orange County
Sheriff's Office. If you're feeling up to it, I'd like to talk to you about
how you got injured today."
	"Okay," Becka nodded, wincing as she shifted on the bed. Strange, she got
hit in the face, but her whole body felt stiff and sore. "We'll have to make
it fast, though. My Dad's coming to take me to the hospital."
	The sergeant nodded. "I understand. We'll need you to sign a statement, but
that can wait until after you've seen a doctor. Besides, I've already got a
couple of Deputies taking statements from some of your friends.
	"According to the nurse, you're most likely going to be fine, but it's
probably a good idea to have them give you a thorough exam at the hospital.
I can tell you right now, though, that you've been very, very lucky in this.
Your injuries could have been a lot more severe than they actually were."
	Becka's lip quirked up wryly. "Funny, I don't feel all that lucky. And hey,
tell me something, why did they send for you guys instead of our local cops?
I mean, three county Mounties for one lousy firecracker in somebody's
locker. Isn't that kind of overkill?"
	Sgt Breen's lips thinned out when he answered, a hard look coming to his
eyes. "The reason you got our office was because the original report we
received said that a bomb had gone off here at the school. The Sheriff's
Office automatically gets notified on any possible terrorist activity in our
jurisdiction. You got me is because I spent three years on the L.A. Bomb
Squad back when I was young and foolish. And the reason I'm still here is,
that wasn't a firecracker in your locker."
	Sgt Breen opened his briefcase and took out a plastic envelope, which Becka
recognized from TV as being a police evidence bag. He showed it to both her
and Principal Garrett, but all they saw was a badly mangled piece of metal
that might once have been a small tube of some kind.
	"I recovered this from your locker, where it was still hanging by a wire
from the coat hook. It's a type 8 military blasting cap, one of the most
powerful detonators made. This is the kind of cap you would use to demolish
a building.
	"Becka, the blast from this 'firecracker' is powerful enough to blow
somebody's hand clean off, and all of it was confined inside that locker and
focused out of the opening. That door may have broken your nose, but it also
shielded you from the hot gases and shrapnel from the explosion. If you had
been standing even a few inches farther back from that locker the door would
of missed you, but your face would have been badly burned, and you might
even have been permanently blinded. So yes, I consider you to be very lucky
in this."
	Becka looked at the twisted piece of metal again and swallowed, feeling a
disturbing queasiness in her stomach. Scars, they were something she
understood, she already carried more than her share. She could live with
more of those. But blind? Suddenly she had to fight the urge to indulge in a
full grown panic attack of her own.
	"I-I guess this is pretty serious, then. Umm, so what do you want me to
do?"
	Sgt Breen nodded, glad she was taking this seriously, and then laid his
briefcase on the bed next to Becka's foot. He returned the evidence bag with
the blasting cap to the briefcase, and in its place drew out a note pad and
a ballpoint pen. He also withdrew a small tape recorder, which he turned on
before setting it down next to the briefcase.
	"Do you mind if I record this interview, Miss Jackson?"
	"Yeah, sure, go right ahead. And call me Becka, okay?"
	"Thank you, Becka. First off, I need to know if you have any idea who put
the explosive device that injured you in your locker."
	"Oh, yeah, I know exactly who did it. But you guys have already made a big
mistake. That locker wasn't mine, it was Joe Munson's. I was just picking up
a text book for him."
	Over the large cop's shoulder Becka saw Mr. Garrett start, his eyes going
wide in sudden understanding. She had to look away and resist the urge to
giggle, when she saw her high school principal mouth the words, 'oh, shit'.
	Sgt Breen was looking at her with one eyebrow raised in a question. "So
you're saying that you think this booby trap was meant for this boy, Joe
Munson? And who do you think put it there?"
	"Oh yeah, it had to be meant for Joe. See, about a week ago Joe got into
some trouble with a guy named Gary Harper, and he and his two goons have
been after him ever since. They threatened him, and they trashed his house,
and yesterday they jumped him in the cafeteria. Ask Mr. Garrett, he put
everybody on detention for it."
	The county cop looked at the other man, who nodded, a little embarrassed at
not having already figured this out. Garrett explained about the incident in
the cafeteria, and its consequences to Matt Ingles and Ron Hooker. Sgt Breen
nodded, making notes, then directed another question at Becka.
	"So there was no way that anybody could have anticipated your being the
next person to open Joe's locker. Could somebody have overheard you talking
about going there?"
	"Nope, no way. It was a last minute thing. Joe had forgotten his Political
Science book, and I offered to go get it for him, since one of us would have
had to escort him back to his locker anyway. He gave me his combination, and
ten minutes later I was there. No way anybody could have gotten there first
and planted that thing."
	"Alright then, I'm going to have to assume you're right, and that your
friend was the intended target. Now you said Joe had to give you the
combination of his lock to get into it. Do you know of anybody else who had
that combination?"
	"No, but it wasn't necessary for someone to know it. The lock hadn't been
closed, it was still open. I thought Joe had just forgotten, but I realized
something a little while ago. That lock was brand new, like it had just come
out of the box this morning."
	Sgt Breen nodded his understanding, but Mr. Garrett seemed confused, so
Becka explained it too him. "It's an old thieves trick, Mr. G. You jimmy a
padlock with a crowbar or something, and then you replace it with another
lock that looks just like it. That way, nobody knows that anybody ever broke
in. Hey, I'll bet they threw away that old lock! You can get fingerprints
off it, can't you? If you check all the trashcans on the second floor,
maybe-"
	"We've already thought of that, Becka, I have a deputy checking waste
receptacles right now. I noticed that new lock, too. Unfortunately even if
we find it, it probably won't do us any good. That locker is in a public
hallway, those boys could have touched it at any time, so even if their
prints are there it doesn't prove anything. The same goes for the locker
itself."
	"Oh. Well, what if you found their prints inside Joe's locker?"
	The big policeman sighed, and shook his head.
	"We'll look, but I doubt we'll find anything useful. The hot gases from the
blast most likely ruined any prints that were in there."
	Becka scowled. "Are you saying that these losers are going to get away with
this? With putting a bomb in someone's locker? Mr. G, can't you even expel
them?"
	The principal shook his head, looking tired. "I'm sorry Becka, but without
proof I can't do a thing, either. My hands are tied."
	Becka muttered a few choice words under her breath that probably would have
gotten her detention too, if Mr. Garrett hadn't carefully ignored it. She
considered long and hard about the implications for Joe if Gary Harper got
away with this. Not good, not good at all. Not only Harper, but the whole
school would start to think he was invulnerable, that he and his two apes
could get away with anything. There was no telling what they would try next.
	For one long, grim moment Becka actually considered setting Gia and the
boys loose on them, but reluctantly decided that the risk of collateral
damage would be too great. Her fiery little sister and insanely protective
brothers would probably come through here like some sort of biblical
scourge. They would level this place, with no stone left atop another, and
then probably salt the earth afterwards for good measure. The Vatican would
have to officially add a whole new chapter to the new testament just to
cover it.
	Becka blinked, then shook her head to clear it. Damn, what did they put in
those painkillers, anyway?
				* * *
	Joe moved away from the door and back to the waiting area in a daze,
feeling disconnected and adrift from anything resembling reality. He had
been listening at the door ever since Mr. Garrett and the police guy had
gone in, but now he just couldn't take it anymore. He sat back down in his
seat in the corner, as the wild, roaring din of his emotions seemed to block
out everything else.
	Blind. Becka could have been blinded, maimed, and all because of him! The
image of her face covered in scars, her beautiful eyes gone sightless, hit
him worse than any other assault Gary Harper had ever committed on him. The
horror and the guilt of it all made his stomach lurch, and Joe had to
struggle against the urge to vomit out everything in his entire body.
	In a moment of clarity he could see it now, the pattern, the escalation of
Harper's attacks. First the jeers and the taunts, and then because Joe had
done nothing to stop it the abuse had grown, like an untreated cancer. The
manhandling and shoving, the books knocked from his hands and the tripping
feet in the hallways. And then the beatings, administered in the parking lot
or behind the school, or any other place that afforded the privacy for an
evil deed. Always intensifying, getting worse every year, finally
culminating in the abomination that almost happened in the boys' room. The
final degradation that would have broken him, if not for the help of a girl
who now lay in the other room suffering for it. And who else was going to be
hurt because of him?
	The all important question was asked, when will this stop. And in the
indefinable space between two heartbeats, the answer came.
	Only when you stop it.
	It was an eerie feeling, almost as if a switch had been thrown. The cold
and calculating part of him that had shown up when he fought Ray Nestor was
back, and the decision to act was as simply made. Joe reached into his
pocket and withdrew his father's harmonica, held it clenched in his fist
while he stared at it, as if it held all the answers.
	The old mouth organ wasn't very large, but it still filled Joe's small hand
and stuck out over a half an inch on each side. The memories surfaced from
that afternoon at the Cameron Martial Arts Academy, where Bobby had taught
him that almost any object could be used as a weapon. He thought about the
kubatan he had practiced with on that wooden mannequin, and that Bobby had
told him how to improvise one with a small flashlight or a ballpoint pen.
Could you make one out of a freaking harmonica?
	Joe clenched the small musical instrument tightly, and made a few practice
jabs with it, imagining the sharp corners digging into soft flesh. He
decided that it would probably hurt a lot, but not enough. He would need
something that could do a lot more damage than that.
				* * *
	Sgt Breen talked with Becka for awhile longer, taking more notes from both
her and Mr. Garrett, but there wasn't really all that much more to go over.
Eventually he thanked her, and asked Mr. Garrett to show him the school
records for Harper, Ingles, and Hooker. The two men were leaving, just as
Gia arrived back.
	"Hey, did you talk to Dad yet?"
	Becka winced. "Oh, yeah. He'll be here any minute now. Better get on the PA
and evacuate the building."
	Gia smiled, but Becka could see that it was mostly forced. She held her
hand out, and without a word the most important person in her life stepped
forward to entwine fingers with her. It was an intimate gesture that they
often did, a private way of saying 'I love you'. Both girls needed to say
that now.
	Becka was the first one to break contact. She let go of Gia's hand and
cleared her throat. "Uh, Mr. Garrett and the cops were just here. I told
them what happened and who did it, but they say they probably won't be able
to prove Harper and his Nazis are guilty. They might walk on this."
	The softness in Gia's face disappeared, replaced by something as hard as a
knife and maybe a little bit sharper. Something feral was showing in her
eyes, and the small Latina girl suddenly looked a lot bigger. She started to
pull away, but Becka reached out and grabbed her arm.
	"Whoa, dammit! Gia Cameron, don't make me tackle you, I am not in the mood
for this shit. So you better calm down, because I'm not going to let you
take a tire iron to Gary Harper. At least not while the cops are still
roaming the halls."
	"Becka, he hurt you! He tried to blow you up!"
	"Actually, he tried to blow Joe up, but that's not the point. This is too
big, Gia. If the cops can't do anything, then alright, we'll have to settle
with Harper ourselves. But how we do it will be a family decision. Dammit,
G, I want to graduate and then go on to art school. I don't want to have to
bust you out of prison, and spend the rest of my life on the lam from the
cops."
	"Did you just say 'on the lam'?"
	"Hey, you know I like Bogart movies."
	Gia tried to remain stubborn, but she couldn't help it, a smile was tugging
at the corner of her mouth.
	"We could drive around the country and rob liquor stores, like 'Thelma &
Louise'," she offered, grudgingly.
	Becka grinned back at her. "We'd need to get a '66 T-Bird. A convertible."
	"Oh, we'd have to steal one, of course."
	"Oh, of course. And then we'd have to drive it off a cliff into the Grand
Canyon."
	"Yeah, but not until after we'd seduced Brad Pitt."
	"You mean you'd seduce Brad Pitt. You're Thelma, remember?"
	"Hey, I don't have the legs to be Thelma!"
	"Yeah, okay, you've got me there. I'll sleep with Brad Pitt."
	 Gia finally laughed, then wrapped her arms around Becka and hugged her,
being mindful of the other girl's injuries.
	"Okay, I promise I'll be good. And I'll try and keep Daddy and the boys
from doing anything stupid, too."
	"Good. And you better keep an eye on Joe, too. Make sure he doesn't go
after those guys, either. Harper would kill him."
	"Don't worry, Joe's out in the waiting room. He's not going anywhere."
	Becka frowned underneath her bandages. "Joe's right outside? How long has
he been here?"
	"I don't know. I noticed him when I went to get my purse. Why?"
	"Is he still out there?"
	"I... no, I don't think I saw him when I came back. No, that's right, the
waiting area was empty. You don't think...?
	"I think maybe you'd better check on him. If he was here when I talked to
the cops, then he might have heard that they won't be able to arrest Harper
and those other two. I dunno, I've got a funny feeling about this, Gia."
	"Okay, I'll be right back. You stay here."
	Gia left the nurse's office and turned the corner into the waiting room.
"Joe?" she called, but immediately saw that no one was there to answer.
Joe's seat was empty, but the one next to it was not. Becka's oversized
purse sat there, and at the sight Gia felt something cold slide around her
heart. The mouth of the bag gaped wide open, and it was obvious that someone
had been in it.
	Over the speakers, the bell sounding the end of sixth period rang.

(continued)