Wyvern and Company by Connie Suttle

blame his dad, so he's taking it
out on us?" Mack said.
    "In a way. He lost friends, too, in that attack, so he's
going after the only survivor, plus the survivor's best friend. He hasn't
realized yet that doing so will not solve his problems. He only feels the need
to lash out at something or someone. He hasn't thought it through well enough
to discover how his emotions are manipulating him. He may end up in deep
trouble over it, if I'm not mistaken."
    "That's messed up," Mack grumped before reaching for
a brownie.
    "Want milk?" Mom asked.
    "Yeah."
    * * *
    My car was towed to the new house and left there; I couldn't
drive it anyway, so Dad said I could borrow Mom's Jeep. I hoped Randall wouldn't
recognize it when I drove it to school on Monday.
    The rest of the weekend was quiet—Mack and I played Joey's
video game—it was in three-D and it felt real as we made our way past warriors
and obstacles to get to the prize at the end.
    It wasn't easy, either, but it was fun. Joey had done a great
job, but he still insisted it had a few bugs and intended to work on those. I
liked it and failed to understand what it was he wanted to tweak. Grudgingly,
we stopped playing it Sunday afternoon to work on an English assignment.
    Mack and I dreaded going to school on Monday, although his dad
said he'd come to the house after school to see Mack—he was finishing the job
in Visalia and should be back in town by then.
    Mack stood for a few seconds outside Mom's Jeep in the school
parking lot, steeling himself to walk into the building.
    "Don't worry about it," I said. "Come on, we'll
be late."
    Mack followed me into the building, where things hadn't
changed much. I ignored Randall, Todd and the others as we walked past them,
until Randall asked about my car. My temper was white-hot when I whirled to
face him.
    No, I'd never threatened anyone before—hadn't really needed
to. I stalked angrily toward Randall Pierce, who took one look at me before
turning and almost running down the hall, the noise they made sounding as if a
small herd of buffalo trampled their way across the tiles. Several people poked
their heads out of classroom doors to see what was going on as a result.
    "Wow," Mack breathed as he watched Randall and his
friends scoot away. "Why didn't we know before how easy that might be?"
    I had to shake myself to get rid of the rage that threatened
to overcome me. "Man, that was close," I muttered. I doubted Mom and
Dad would understand if I got expelled from school for fighting, even if the
fight was with the jerk who'd vandalized my car.
    "Justin?" Gina Allen came up beside me and took my
arm. "We'll be late for class if you don't come now," she said and
led me away. Mack wore a bemused expression as he followed us to English class.
    * * *
    Mack and I ended up having lunch with Gina—plus several
others. I couldn't have predicted that—no way. Mack was just as surprised as I that
he had supporters in school; we'd thought all of them were against us.
    I guess not everybody swallowed what Randall Pierce was dishing;
some of them thought for themselves. Tactfully, nobody asked Mack about what
happened at Shaver Lake, and it would have upset him to talk about it anyway.
    Someday, he might get to a point where he could, but he'd
witnessed a lot of murders before running away. His recollection of running
away wasn't exactly logical or sane-sounding on top of everything else, so I
was grateful nobody asked.
    "Look, it's Goober Griffin, and he's got an army. A
really ugly, geeky army," Randall stopped by our table. Yes, he'd waited
until we were in the cafeteria and watched closely by several teachers to do
his digging. At least he was attacking me, now, instead of Mack.
    The problem, of course, is that some of those teachers watching
from the sidelines might agree with Randall and ignore his bullying. I hated to
think that, but worried that it might be true.
    "Look, it's Ratface Randall, whose grades will probably
get him off the