He should have gone to the gym.

He still had time. He even had to walk down the freshman/sophomore wing to get there, so if he passed Layne in the hall, he could brush her off and make it seem like he was the one ditching her.

The halls in this half of the school were empty. He could hear some sort of squeaking or scuffling up around the next corner, and he hoped two kids weren’t trying to get it on right in the middle of the hallway.

No, but he found Layne. And three boys. Half her hair had come loose from the braid, and her face was red and tear streaked. The shortest of the boys stood by her side, also red-faced, but with fury, not tears.

The other two kids had their backpacks and they were dump-ing the contents in the middle of the aisle. Binders split open and papers went everywhere.

One laughed. Red hair, freckles, face and hands still soft.

“Oops,” he said. “Hate when that happens.”

The boy beside Layne rushed forward to shove him, saying something unintelligible.

The other kid grabbed him by the shoulder and flung him away, sending him to the ground to skid on the papers. Some tore.

They hadn’t even noticed Gabriel yet.

“Knock it off!” cried Layne. “I’m going to get ”

“You’re going to shut up,” said the other kid. “We’re sick of you and that retard.”

Then he shoved her to the ground.

Gabriel didn’t even remember moving. He just had the kid by the front of the shirt and he’d slammed him up against the lockers. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The boy wilted. His mouth worked for a moment, no sound coming out.

Gabriel slammed him again, a little harder, a little rougher.

“Talk.”

He didn’t, just hung there shaking.

The other bully bolted down the hallway. Didn’t matter

Gabriel would find him later.

He looked back at the one he had pinned and clapped him on the side of the head. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make the kid flinch. “Want me to knock some sense into you?”

The boy shook his head quickly. “No we were just we were it’s they’re ”

“Shut it,” said Gabriel. “I catch you screwing with them again and you won’t be around to talk about it. Get it?”

The kid nodded, his head bobbing hard.

Gabriel let him go. He slipped and skidded and almost fell in the stream of papers, but he found his footing and bolted after his friend.

Layne and the younger boy were staring after them. The boy had a grin on his face now. He poked Layne in the arm and made a bunch of complicated hand gestures, then pointed to Gabriel.

Sign language.

Now Gabriel understood the unintelligible scream of rage when things were being strewn about the hallway. He remembered the bully’s comment about someone being a retard.

Layne sighed. “Thanks.” She bent to start sorting the papers.

The boy poked her arm again, more aggressively this time.

He had to be a younger brother Gabriel could read that dynamic like a book. But the boy signed again, and then pointed at Gabriel.

Layne rolled her eyes and didn’t look at him.

“What’s he saying?” said Gabriel.

“He said thanks,” said Layne.

The boy punched her in the shoulder and said something emphatically. It took Gabriel a moment to work out the words.

“Tell him, Layne.”

Layne sighed again and looked up. Her voice was flat. “He said that was f**king awesome.”

Gabriel grinned. “You can take them next time, buddy.”

He’d spoken without thinking, but before he could glance at Layne to translate, the boy grinned back and held out a fist.

Gabriel bumped it with his own.

“This is my little brother,” said Layne. Her hands signed while she talked. “His name is Simon.”

Gabriel bent and began helping them catch the loose papers.

“Freshman?”

“Yeah.” She paused, and then signed while she spoke. “It’s Simon’s first year at a real school.” She stopped signing and covered her mouth. “In case you couldn’t tell, it’s not going well.”

Simon punched her in the shoulder again.

Layne dropped her hand. “And he hates it when I don’t let him see what I’m saying.”

Simon was signing again, so fast that Gabriel had no idea how anyone would be able to make sense of it.

But Layne did. “He wants to know if you’re going out for basketball again this year. He just made the JV team. He made me take him to every basketball game last year, so he saw you play.”

Everyone made JV, but Gabriel didn’t say that. “Yeah,” he said, “varsity tryouts are Friday.” He probably didn’t have to show up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the library.” Layne gestured to the mess around them. “I was busy.”

“It’s cool,” he said, feeling a flash of guilt that he’d assumed she was standing him up. “Let me know if those dicks mess with you again.”

“Why?” she said, her voice flat again. “You gonna rumble under the bleachers?”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” She shoved the last of her papers into her backpack. She tapped her brother on the arm, and then signed while speaking, “Come on, Simon.”

Gabriel studied her, nonplussed. “You’re mad at me?”