Page 9 of Bent Heavens

Liv gave Bruno a careful look. Was the offhand way in which he mentioned her dad disturbing or disarming? Nothing duplicitous could hide behind such a smile.

“You said you wanted to talk about something,” she said.

Bruno leaned closer and raised a conspiratorial eyebrow.

“I saw you bust up those guys this morning, and it was amazing.”

Liv slapped down her pen and covered her eyes.

“Oh Jesus. Is the video out already?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know. I saw it in person.”

“There were people watching?”

“It isn’t like there was a whole crowd. It was just me. You didn’t see me because you were busy kicking all sorts of ass. Like I said, I want to join the chorus. I went down there to introduce myself to Mrs. Meachum.”

“I’m going to end up in the video, I just know it, and then it’s just going to be more…”

“More what?”

“More I have to deal with. Like why I’m still sticking up for Doug Monk.”

“What’s wrong with sticking up for Doug Monk?”

“In all your summer spying, you never heard anything about Doug Monk?”

“Not spying. Research. And no, he never came up.”

“What am I supposed to say? I guess he’s an old friend.”

“And your new friends don’t like him. That’s how it goes.”

“They just don’t understand … I mean, unless you know Doug, he can seem … he’s tough to talk to. His family life is weird. He’s basically on his own. It’s hard.”

“Well, I think what you did was heroic. It was about the most heroic thing I’ve ever seen. You’re a hero.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious here. It was really, truly amazing. You see that stuff in movies, but in real life? You tore those assholes new assholes.”

“If I’d been a guy, it would’ve gone totally different. There’d be pride issues, and they would’ve beaten me up. See how heroic I am?”

“I think you’re selling yourself short. If that’s true, then how come more girls don’t go on Liv Fleming–style anti-bully rampages? Because they’re scared. I’d be scared, too. That’s why you’re my hero, and that’s my final word on the subject.”

Bruno crossed his arms and lifted his chin in defiance. Liv rolled her eyes, but there was a squirming in her stomach she mistook for dread before identifying it as dread’s opposite. Her relationship with Doug had been soaked in stigma for so long that she couldn’t trust any positive feelings anywhere near it. She stared down at the list of Bruno’s sisters in a desperate hunt for a topic change.

“You were saying hi to Mrs. Meachum, huh? Really getting a head start on the brownnosing.”

“Hardy-har. I actually happen to like teachers. Plus, I’m not above a little brownnosing. They’re casting for Oliver! next week, and if I don’t get a lead, these hallways are going to be ringing with my sobs. With my beautifully musical, pitch-perfect sobs.”

A funny thing to say, but Liv didn’t hear it. At the word Oliver!, it was like coal dust had been poured over her head. Her vision went dark, her brain darker. The word sat on the desk before her like a scorched, unidentifiable, yet disgusting object, something vaguely threatening and not definitively dead. She wanted to push her desk away in hopes that the object would drop to the floor and she could ignore it like a dead roach.

Bruno had quit talking. He ducked his head into her field of vision.

“Liv?”

She blinked, barely seeing him, then crawled her eyes through the room of oblivious natterers to the teacher standing before her stupid shelf of dolls. Mrs. Meachum might be handling the musical side of the play, but it was Baldwin who selected the productions, cast them, and directed them. Liv grit her teeth and let the feelings seep in.