“I wanted to be ladylike and give you another chance,” Mason said. “You were the best we ever had. Almost as good as me.”
“If I were only as good as you, I wouldn’t have figured out that your wonderful Class Project was part of a drug ring.” Bobby stepped toward Mason, fists clenched. “I guess you never talk to Angel.”
“Au contraire, mon Frère,” Mason said, wagging a finger, his speech almost imperceptibly slurred. “I asked her. She said you were a dweeb!” Mason suddenly became furious, like he’d lost his mind. “She gave me the stuff you’re all girly frightened of, and I tested it. It’s nothing, Bobby! Nothing!
Bobby jumped back. “I see that,” he snapped.
“Do him,” Rubric muttered. “He deserves it.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Mason growled. He shoved Rubric, staggered, then turned to Bobby and said softly, “You don’t trust me. You won’t give me a second chance. Everybody deserves a second chance, Bobby.”
“Earn it,” Bobby said. “Fight me without the bat, coward.”
“This is for the greater good, Bobby,” Rubric said. “He doesn’t want to fight you. He wants to make an example of you. He wants to show people how serious we are about the Class Project. Right, Mase?”
Mason turned to Rubric, the pain in his face unmistakable. “Shut up, Art. Just shut up.” He gripped the bat in both hands and stepped toward Bobby.
Suddenly, Andy’s words flashed through my mind. Mason has killed before. I had no idea what was wrong with Mason, but it was time to move. I sprinted toward him. My mind quickly calmed. I would take him out first. A few pressure points, and nighty, night, little Mason. Once he was down, Rubric would probably take off. If not, so much the better.
Just then, Mason noticed me. “Rinnie,” he whispered. He suddenly looked like he would cry. “Bobby was wrong. I tried it, Rinnie. Why won’t he believe me?”
Understanding slammed me in the gut. Mason was high on Psychedone 10.
“Howdy there, Peroxide.” Rubric grinned and blew me a kiss.
I scowled. “I’d rather kiss a rhino.”
Rubric made a grunting sound that I can only assume was meant to be a rhinoceros, but sounded like a heifer with four upset stomachs. He puckered his blubbery lips at me. “Come get some!”
“Don’t make me sick.”
“Why don’t you rush on home, now, Peroxide?” Rubric slurred. “Your mommy’s calling, and you might get hurt here. Oh, did I say ‘might’?”
“Yo, babe,” Chuckie’s voice boomed in my ear from behind. Suddenly, I was in his powerful grip, jerked off my feet.
Rubric grinned. “By the way, your bodyguard isn’t around to protect you, so you might want to watch your back.”
“Put me down,” I yelled, totally miffed that I’d let Chuckie take me by surprise. His cheek felt like a cactus against mine, and his breath was horrible. “Don’t you people use toothpaste?”
“I don’t like the taste,” Chuckie said.
Obviously.
“Chuckie!” Mason roared. “Don’t touch her!”
Chuckie inhaled sharply, and his grip loosened, which I totally took advantage of. I shifted so that my arms were partly free. Chuckie would soon be in for an unpleasant surprise.
“It’s okay, Mase,” Rubric said. “Remember, we have to set an example.”
Mason gritted his teeth. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
Rubric staggered to Mason and put his hand on his shoulder. “For the greater good. She’s not the problem.”
“Leave him alone!” Bobby shoved Rubric. “Let him think for himself. Is this what that garbage does?
“Mase,” Rubric said, ignoring Bobby. “For the greater good.”
Mason glared fiercely at Rubric, then stepped into Bobby’s path. “Why did you lie to me?” Mason poked Bobby hard in the chest. “Why won’t you give me another chance?”
Bobby’s fist moved like lightning. He punched Mason square in the teeth with a sharp crack. Mason’s head snapped backward, and he stumbled, blood trickling down his chin.
“I told you not to touch me!” Bobby yelled. His fists clenched, his knees bent, he looked like a small tiger ready to spring. “And I told you the truth. You just didn’t want to hear it.”
“Do him,” Rubric said.
Mason raised his bat.
“Do him,” Rubric repeated.
Mason wiped the blood from his lips and lowered the bat. “No.”
Bobby held his fists ready to strike again, so tiny next to Mason, like a mouse defending itself against a lion. Just then, Rubric stumbled forward. I screamed, but it was too late. He punched Bobby right between the shoulder blades. Bobby’s knees buckled, and Rubric grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms against his sides.
“Do him, Mason.” Rubric’s voice was low, intimidating. “For the greater good. Do him. He lied to you.”
“Don’t talk to me, Art.” Mason stood holding the bat in both hands, trembling. “Just shut up.”