Fade to Black

by Flinn, Alex

• ISBN13: 9780060568429
• ISBN10: 0060568429
• Edition: Reprint
• Format: Paperback
• Publisher: Harperteen

Summary

Three perspectives -- one truth The victim: After his windshield was shattered with a baseball bat, HIV-positive Alex Crusan ducked under the steering wheel. But he knows what he saw. Now he must decide what he wants to tell. The witness: Daria Bickell never lies. So if she told the police she saw Clinton Cole do it, she must have. But did she really? The suspect: Clinton was seen in the vicinity of the crime that morning. And sure, he has problems with Alex. But he'd never do something like this. Would he?

Excerpts

Fade to Black

Chapter One

Monday, 10:50 a.m., Principal Runnels's office,
Pinedale High School
clinton

How do they know I did it?

They ought to give me a stinking medal. If you asked most people around here "off the record," they'd agree with what I did. I mean, sure everybody wants to be politically correct -- whatever that's supposed to mean. Just because Pinedale's a cow town doesn't mean we're all rednecks without opposable thumbs, no matter what people from Miami might think. But people move here because it's a safe place. Or it was. No one wants to die. All the political correctness in the world's not worth that.

And most people would agree with that, "off the record."

But on the record, there's this little problem: they can't. That's why my butt's here in a green plastic chair in Principal Runnels's office instead of a plain old wooden chair in English class where it belongs.

I've been here an hour now, since they called me out of third period. And Runny-nose is nowhere to be found. His secretary, Miss Velez, acts like he's out on some kind of top-secret school business. But I know better. The one time, I got caught with Brett and Mo in that now-notorious mascot-swiping incident -- he was late then, too. When he finally showed up, he was carting groceries -- eggs and milk and Chips Ahoy. You'd think a big important principal would get his wife to do the shopping. But you'd be wrong. The man is PW, and if you don't know what that means, check with me sometime when I'm in a better mood and I'll tell you.

Miss Velez walks by, trying to look casual. But I'm pretty sure she's checking to make sure I haven't bolted. I stand when she comes in the room (my daddy taught me right) and say in my politest voice, "Excuse me, Ms. Velez?" She wants to be called Ms.

"Yes, Clinton?"

"Um, I was thinking if Principal Runnels won't be here for a while, could I maybe go back to class? We've got a test in English, and I sure do hate to miss it."

Or, more important, I hate to miss Alyssa Black. She has that class with me. Other girls, if they're pretty, I get tongue-tied. But Alyssa's different in the way she looks at me. It's not just that she's got beautiful eyes. But she sees me different, I feel like. Other girls see a big jock who runs with the pack. With Alyssa, it's like she . . . I don't know, understands me, maybe. Is that corny? It's like she can see inside to the part that's still this little fat kid no one likes much, the part I try to hide from most people. Today's the day I was planning on asking her to homecoming. It'll put a big dent in my plans if she knows I'm in here or if I get detention. Alyssa doesn't hang with delinquents.

Miss Velez glances at the clock. When she looks back, her face is sort of hard.

"No, Clinton, you can't go to class. They'll be with you in a few minutes."

She's gone before I get the chance to ask who "they" are.

Figures she'd be against me. Alex -- the guy this is all about -- he's a spic like she is. Or Latino as my mother would say. My father says those kinds of people always stick together. "That's the problem with 'em," he'd say. "With the whole damn State of Florida, really. You work a job your whole life, then some spic fires you and hires his second cousin. It started down in Miami, but darned if it isn't spreading up north. And soon, it'll be the last American in Florida, heading out and taking the flag with him."

My father ought to know because that's what happened to him. The getting fired part. My father was one of the most powerful men in Pinedale. But when he lost his job, my mother left him. She said it was because she couldn't stand being around his "attitudes" -- whatever that means -- but Dad says different. He got a new job out of state, and now I hardly see him. Mom won't let me call him much either, on account of the cost of long distance and all the child support Dad isn't paying. Dad can't really afford to call us, either. Mom would say that's a good thing. But I miss him.

My mom and I don't see eye to eye on much. She's sort of liberal, which is really what started this whole problem with the Crusans. She's always worrying about people's rights and so forth. When my little sister, Melody, started playing with Carolina Crusan at school, Mom said fine. Then Carolina invited Melody to sleep over their house. Mom said fine again. Go. Never mind that her HIV brother's going to unleash the black plague on Pinedale, Florida. Never mind that we don't know what type of germs and spores and junk is flying around their house (I always try not to breathe too much when I'm in class with him). Just go. Have fun. I tried to tell Melody not to eat anything over there and to wash her hands and not touch any sharp objects and not drink out of the glasses (was that really unreasonable?). But Mom made me shut up. "Stop scaring her, Clinton. She might say something to the Crusans." Like she's more worried about their feelings than her own daughter's safety.

That's when I realized I needed to take matters into my own hands. With Dad gone and Mom acting sort of crazy, what choice did I have? But I wasn't going to hurt the guy or nothing. I just wanted to scare him so he'd go back where he came from before anyone got hurt. I only wanted to protect my family, like my father would've.

Fade to Black. Copyright © by Alex Flinn. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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Excerpted from Fade to Black by Alex Flinn
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