Crossroads

“Like what?”

“Come off it, Bruce. You’ve let enough slip these last few weeks for me to realize that you’ve expanded your vocabulary. And I don’t like it.”

“Words don’t hurt anything.”

“I disagree. They hurt your character. And they can also give you a juvenile record if you scratch them on the walls in the boys’ rest room.”

Bruce’s face grew red. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“I didn’t say you did. And I don’t believe you vandalized the cars or stole the computer equipment.”

“I wasn’t smoking, either.”

“Maybe not. But when it comes to drugs, the cops bust you first and ask questions later.”

He looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Jackson gave me a few more details about the smoking incident.”

He still looked confused. “What does that have to do with drugs?”

Tess stared at him, and slowly the light began to dawn. He honestly didn’t know! Relief coursed through her and the tension coiled deep inside eased ever so slightly. “That wasn’t just a cigarette, Bruce,” she said gently. “It was a joint. Marijuana.”

His face blanched. “Who told you that?”

“Mr. Jackson.”

“I don’t believe it! Besides, how does he know? He didn’t see anything.”

“He was a cop, remember? He could tell from the smell. You’re lucky he contacted me instead of the police.”

Bruce frowned. “He didn’t have a case, anyway,” he said slowly, some of his cockiness returning. “There wasn’t any evidence. And the smell would have been gone by the time the police got there.”

Anger flashed in Tess’s eyes. “Maybe the next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Bruce glared at her defiantly. “I can take care of myself.”

“Really? So what are you going to do when they pass around the next joint?”

His gaze skittered away. “I don’t have to smoke. They’ll be my friends even if I don’t.”

“They’re not your friends now, Bruce. They’re bad news, and they’re going to drag you down with them. Can’t you see that?” she pleaded, a note of desperation creeping into her voice.

“No! I like them! They’re nice to me! They’re the only ones who are at that dumb school. Do you know what it’s like not to have anyone to sit with at lunch? It su…it stinks! I sat by myself every day until they invited me. I owe them,” he said fiercely.

An ominous chill went down Tess’s spine. The scenario Bruce had just described was exactly the one Mitch Jackson had used as an example. By drawing him in, by accepting him, the group he’d hooked up with had evoked not only a sense of gratitude, but of obligation. Which could be very dangerous.

“You don’t owe them a thing,” Tess shot back, but she could see that her words fell on deaf ears. She rose, trying to control her panic. “Okay. Until further notice, you’re to come home right after school.”

Bruce sent her a venomous look. “You’re grounding me?”

“You got it.”

“Why? I haven’t done anything wrong. You said you believed me.”

“I do. But I think you’re on dangerous ground.”

“So you’re going to lock me up? I bet that was Mr. Jackson’s idea,” he said angrily.

“As a matter of fact, it wasn’t. I thought it up all by myself.”

“I’ll still see the guys at school,” he countered defiantly.

“That’s true. But I think Mr. Jackson will be keeping his eye out for you there.”

“I should have figured you two would team up,” he said bitterly. “Adults always stick together.”

Instead of responding, Tess simply left the room. Once out of sight, she leaned against the wall, struggling to control the tremors that ran through her body. Please, Lord, help me! she prayed desperately as another wave of panic washed over her. She had no idea how to deal with this situation. But she knew she needed help. The counseling session Mitch had invited her to couldn’t come soon enough. Because Bruce was in way over his head.

And so was she.

“Morning, Tess. Have I got a story for you!”

Tess glanced up at the managing editor and smiled. Caroline James was about the same age as Tess, but she was light years ahead of the paper’s newest reporter in terms of sophistication and polish. Why someone with Caroline’s experience, abilities and contacts was content to be the managing editor of a suburban newspaper was beyond Tess’s understanding. She was just grateful to have the chance to hone her skills under the guidance of a true pro.

“Hi, Caroline. What’s up?”

“A great coup for our little paper, that’s what.” Caroline sat on the single chair in Tess’s cube and crossed her legs, revealing their shapely length under her fashionably short skirt. As she leaned back, her silk blouse shimmered in the overhead light, as did her simple but classic gold necklace. Style. Class. Poise. Caroline had it all, Tess thought wistfully. In her tailored slacks and baggy sweater, Tess felt dowdy and plain by comparison. Not to mention awkward. Even on her best days, Tess didn’t move with the lithe grace that came so naturally to Caroline. Yet her boss was completely down-to-earth, without a pretentious bone in her body, and she had gone out of her way to make Tess feel at home on the paper. It was hard to be envious of someone so nice.

“Sounds promising,” Tess replied.

“More than promising. A sure thing. It seems we have a man of great distinction right here in our midst.”

“Really? Who?”

“One Mitch Jackson, local principal.”

Tess stared at Caroline in shock. “Mitch Jackson?”

“Yeah.” Caroline tilted her head and gazed at Tess. “You look funny. Do you know him?”

Tess nodded and cleared her throat. “Yes. Sort of. That is, we’ve met. Briefly. He’s the principal at my son’s school.”

“Great! A connection! That will make it even easier to scoop the daily. Hopefully he’ll give us first crack.”

“At what?”

“A feature profile. He’s just been chosen to receive the governor’s award for excellence in education. He’s introduced some really innovative programs at the school. We’ve tried to do a story on him before, but apparently he prefers to stay out of the limelight.”