hormones kicked in and the gender walls came down, it slowly became cool for a boy to have a girlfriend. The cuter and more popular girls were chased and caught, but not April. She showed no interest in boys and didn’t have a clue when it came to flirting. She was aloof, often lost in her own world. Theo liked her; he had for a long time, but was too shy and too self-conscious to make a move. He wasn’t sure how to make a move, and April seemed unapproachable.
It happened in gym class, on a cold snowy afternoon in late February. Two sections of seventh graders had just begun a one-hour torture session under the command of Mr. Bart Tyler, a young hotshot physical education teacher who fancied himself as a Marine drill instructor. The students, both boys and girls, had just completed a set of brutal wind sprints when Theo suddenly could not catch his breath. He ran for his backpack in a corner, pulled out his inhaler, and took several puffs of medication. This happened occasionally, and, though his classmates understood, Theo was always embarrassed. He was actually exempt from gym, but he insisted on participating.
Mr. Tyler showed the right amount of concern and led Theo to a spot in the bleachers. He was humiliated. As Mr. Tyler walked away and began blowing his whistle and yelling, April Finnemore left the crowd and took a seat next to Theo. Very close.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he answered as he began to think that maybe an asthma attack wasn’t so bad after all. She placed a hand on his knee and looked at him with tremendous concern.
A loud voice yelled, “Hey, April, what are you doing?” It was Mr. Tyler.
She coolly turned and said, “I’m taking a break.”
“Oh really. I don’t recall approving a break. Get back in line.”
To which she repeated, icily, “I said I’m taking a break.”
Mr. Tyler paused for a second, then managed to say, “And why is that?”
“Because I have an asthma condition, just like Theo.”
At that point, no one knew if April was telling the truth, but no one, especially Mr. Tyler, seemed willing to push harder. “All right, all right,” he said, and then blew his whistle at the rest of the kids. For the first time in his young life, Theo was thrilled to have asthma.
For the remainder of the period, Theo and April sat knee-to-knee in the bleachers, watching the others sweat and groan, giggling at the less-than-athletic ones, mocking Mr. Tyler, gossiping about the classmates they were not so fond of, and whispering about life in general. That night, they Facebooked for the first time.
A sudden knock on the door startled Theo, followed by his father’s voice. “Theo, open up.”
Theo quickly stepped to the door, unlocked and opened it. “Are you okay?” Mr. Boone asked.
“Sure, Dad.”
“Look, there are a couple of policemen here and they would like to talk to you.”
Theo was too confused to respond. His father continued, “I’m not sure what they want, probably just more background on April. Let’s talk to them in the library. Both your mother and I will be with you.”
“Uh, okay.”
They met in the library. Detectives Slater and Capshaw were standing and chatting gravely with Mrs. Boone when Theo walked in. Introductions were made, seats were taken. Theo was secured with a parent/lawyer on each side. The detectives were directly across the table. As usual, Slater did the talking and Capshaw took the notes.
Slater began, “Sorry to barge in like this, but you may have heard that a body was pulled from the river this afternoon.”
All three Boones nodded. Theo was not about to admit that he’d watched the police from a cliff across the river. He was not about to say any more than necessary.
Slater went on, “The crime lab people are at work right now trying to identify the body. Frankly, it is not easy because the body is well, shall we say, somewhat decomposed.”
The knot in Theo’s chest grew tighter. His throat
It happened in gym class, on a cold snowy afternoon in late February. Two sections of seventh graders had just begun a one-hour torture session under the command of Mr. Bart Tyler, a young hotshot physical education teacher who fancied himself as a Marine drill instructor. The students, both boys and girls, had just completed a set of brutal wind sprints when Theo suddenly could not catch his breath. He ran for his backpack in a corner, pulled out his inhaler, and took several puffs of medication. This happened occasionally, and, though his classmates understood, Theo was always embarrassed. He was actually exempt from gym, but he insisted on participating.
Mr. Tyler showed the right amount of concern and led Theo to a spot in the bleachers. He was humiliated. As Mr. Tyler walked away and began blowing his whistle and yelling, April Finnemore left the crowd and took a seat next to Theo. Very close.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he answered as he began to think that maybe an asthma attack wasn’t so bad after all. She placed a hand on his knee and looked at him with tremendous concern.
A loud voice yelled, “Hey, April, what are you doing?” It was Mr. Tyler.
She coolly turned and said, “I’m taking a break.”
“Oh really. I don’t recall approving a break. Get back in line.”
To which she repeated, icily, “I said I’m taking a break.”
Mr. Tyler paused for a second, then managed to say, “And why is that?”
“Because I have an asthma condition, just like Theo.”
At that point, no one knew if April was telling the truth, but no one, especially Mr. Tyler, seemed willing to push harder. “All right, all right,” he said, and then blew his whistle at the rest of the kids. For the first time in his young life, Theo was thrilled to have asthma.
For the remainder of the period, Theo and April sat knee-to-knee in the bleachers, watching the others sweat and groan, giggling at the less-than-athletic ones, mocking Mr. Tyler, gossiping about the classmates they were not so fond of, and whispering about life in general. That night, they Facebooked for the first time.
A sudden knock on the door startled Theo, followed by his father’s voice. “Theo, open up.”
Theo quickly stepped to the door, unlocked and opened it. “Are you okay?” Mr. Boone asked.
“Sure, Dad.”
“Look, there are a couple of policemen here and they would like to talk to you.”
Theo was too confused to respond. His father continued, “I’m not sure what they want, probably just more background on April. Let’s talk to them in the library. Both your mother and I will be with you.”
“Uh, okay.”
They met in the library. Detectives Slater and Capshaw were standing and chatting gravely with Mrs. Boone when Theo walked in. Introductions were made, seats were taken. Theo was secured with a parent/lawyer on each side. The detectives were directly across the table. As usual, Slater did the talking and Capshaw took the notes.
Slater began, “Sorry to barge in like this, but you may have heard that a body was pulled from the river this afternoon.”
All three Boones nodded. Theo was not about to admit that he’d watched the police from a cliff across the river. He was not about to say any more than necessary.
Slater went on, “The crime lab people are at work right now trying to identify the body. Frankly, it is not easy because the body is well, shall we say, somewhat decomposed.”
The knot in Theo’s chest grew tighter. His throat
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