Ike would be proud.

Sometimes, a guy has got to fight.

Theo dropped his backpack, yelled something that not even he understood, and jumped into the pile.

Chapter 12

On one side of the table, Baxter sat with Griff, and on the other side Woody sat with Theo. The opposing sides faced each other as the tension slowly faded and reality set in. Baxter had an ice pack on the side of his face and his left eye was swollen and completely closed. It looked awful. Woody was proud, though he suppressed a smile. With suspension coming and angry parents to deal with, smiles were not possible. Griff’s face showed no damage, nor did Woody’s. Theo’s bottom lip was puffy and there was a spot of dried blood on it. He tapped it with a tissue. His more serious wound was a throbbing head, courtesy of a kick at the bottom of the pile by either Baxter or Griff, but he did not mention this.

Mr. Mount sat at the end of the table and stared at the boys. He had angrily pulled them apart and marched them down to the library and into the small study room where they were now sitting and cooling off. As the seconds and minutes ticked by, the boys settled down. Their breathing slowed. Their heart rates were returning to normal. Nothing like a good fight to get the pulse racing and the blood pumping.

“What happened?” Mr. Mount finally asked.

All four boys stared at the table. Nothing. Not a word.

“Could this have anything to do with the rumor that Theo was arrested yesterday?” Mr. Mount asked, looking squarely at Theo, who did not take his eyes off the surface of the table.

Mr. Mount knew that Woody was a hothead and Baxter liked trouble. He also knew that Griff followed Baxter around like a new puppy. He would never believe, though, that Theo Boone would start a fight, or jump into the middle of one. But Mr. Mount had once been a boy, and he understood things. The way he figured it, Baxter and Griff were picking on Theo, and Woody defended his friend.

There were voices outside the room. Mr. Mount said, “I think Mrs. Gladwell is here. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.” With that, he stood and left the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Woody snarled, “Nobody rats, okay? I mean it, nobody rats. Not one word.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the door opened wide and Mrs. Gladwell stormed in. One look, and the boys knew they were dead.

She stared at them as she slowly took a seat at the end of the table. Mr. Mount eased into the room, closed the door, and stood against the wall. He was there as her witness.

“Are you okay, Baxter?” she asked, without a touch of sympathy.

Baxter nodded slightly.

“And Theo? Is that blood on your bottom lip?”

Theo nodded slightly.

She stiffened her spine, frowned even harder, and began, “Well, I want to know what happened.”

Neither boy moved the tiniest muscle. All seven eyes (Baxter had only one workable eye at this point) were glued firmly at something fascinating, though invisible, on the table. Silence, as seconds passed. Her face became redder, her frown even harsher.

“Fighting is a very serious offense,” she lectured. “We do not tolerate fighting at this school, and you’ve known this since you arrived here in the fifth grade. Fighting carries an automatic suspension. A suspension goes into your file and becomes part of your permanent record.”

Not exactly, Theo said to himself. Sure, it might be a permanent record, but it would never leave the middle school. No college or law school or potential employer would ever know that a student got suspended for fighting in the eighth grade.

“Theo,” she said sternly, “I want to know what happened. Look at me, Theo.”

Theo slowly turned and looked at the rather frightening face of his principal. “Tell me what happened,” she demanded. Theo, unable to maintain eye contact, focused his attention at a spot on the wall and clenched his jaws.

Of the four, Theo was a leader; Griff was a follower; Woody and Baxter generally moved with the pack. If Theo kept his mouth shut, then the other three would, too. This was Mrs. Gladwell’s first mistake.

The way to crack a case with multiple defendants is to separate them. Theo, if in charge, would isolate Griff in a small room with several grim-faced adults—administrators, coaches, people with clout and authority. They would explain to Griff that the other three boys were talking and pointing the finger at him. “Griff, Baxter is saying that you were taunting Theo.” And, “Griff, they’re saying you threw the first punch.” And so on. Griff wouldn’t believe this at first, but after a few minutes of getting hammered at, he would eventually start talking. Once he gave his version, he would be told that it didn’t jive with the other three; so, obviously, Griff was lying. Lying would only compound his troubles. Lying, plus fighting, would lead to an even longer suspension and probation. Griff would then become desperate to make it known that his version was indeed truthful and accurate. Once this strategy was used on all four boys, they would be singing like birds and the truth about the fight would become clear.

This, of course, would require deception on the part of the authorities, but such tactics are permissible under the law. On the other hand, Mrs. Gladwell’s strategy involved no deception, and she would learn nothing from the boys. Theo was happy that she did not understand basic police interrogation tactics.

Theo said nothing and returned his gaze to the table in front of him. His refusal to speak, to rat, meant all four would go down together.

She continued, “Baxter, who punched you in the eye?”

Baxter lowered the ice pack and set it on the table. The ice was working and the swelling had gone down a little. He almost said, “I don’t know,” but caught himself. He, of course, did know. There was no benefit in lying at this point. Just clam up like Theo and suffer through this.

There was a long pause as she waited. The air was thick with tension and looming trouble. None of the boys had ever been suspended, though Woody and Baxter had been on probation a couple of times.

Mrs. Gladwell had been informed early that morning  the Internet was buzzing with the rumors that Theo had been arrested for the theft and was going to court. She had been shown the photo posted on GashMail. She had planned to meet with Theo at some point during the day and offer her support. Now, she was faced with the unpleasant task of suspending him and the other three.

Finally, she said, “I suspect that either Baxter or Griff said something about Theo getting into trouble with the law, maybe getting arrested or something like that. Since Woody and Theo are classmates and good friends, I suspect that Woody intervened and this started the fight. Am I right about this, Griff?”

Griff jerked as though he’d been slapped, but he quickly composed himself so he could say nothing. Not a word. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth and gave her nothing.

She waited and waited and her frown disappeared. The boys were playing games, so she would play along. “Baxter?”

Baxter tapped the table nervously but said nothing.

“Boys, we can sit here all morning,” she said.

Behind her, Mr. Mount tried not to smile. Secretly, he admired the boys for protecting each other and facing their punishment together.

“Mr. Mount, would you take Baxter, Griff, and Woody outside?” she said. “I want to talk to Theo alone.” Without a word, the three followed Mr. Mount out of the room. When the door closed, Theo felt totally isolated.

“Look at me, Theo,” she said softly. Theo turned and made eye contact.

“I know you’ve had a bad week,” she said. “You feel as though you’re the victim. The police are after you. Someone is trying to frame you for the burglary. Someone is stalking you. Someone is bullying you. Your face is all over the Internet in that photo of you and your parents leaving the police station. Lies are being told. Rumors are out of control. I understand all this, Theo. I’m on your side, and I hope you know this.”