That Night

By Lisa McManus

It can take a whole day to figure out what happened...that night.

On what was to be just another Monday morning at school, Luke’s girlfriend Jessica is nowhere to be found. Names like ‘psycho lover’ follow Luke to his locker, even from his best friend. Luke soon learns Jessica tried to kill herself at a party from the previous Saturday night, and she’s blaming him. With posts on FaceBook feeding the rumors of what happened that night, the school has to investigate.

Torn between worry, guilt, loyalty, priorities, and an urgency to clear his name and protect hers, he has to find her—he loves her no matter what. The teacher in the middle of the investigation is also the same one to provide academic and character references for Luke’s college applications due by the end of the week. Luke knows he’s not to blame, but with no contact from Jessica and everyone blaming him for what happened, he’s at risk of losing everything—Jessica and his dreams of being a mechanic—all because of what happened that night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Teen
• Release date: Dec 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781772335927

Lisa McManus

Lisa McManus writes for children and young adults - her young adult novella 'That Night' is published by Evernight Teen (Evernight Publishing) She is also a multi-published author of slice-of-life stories regularly featured in Chicken Soup for the Soul. Find her at www.lisamcmanus.com and www.lisamcmanuslange.blogspot.com She lives on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada.

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Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2015 Lisa McManus

ISBN: 978-1-77233-592-7

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my family near and far—thank you for your never-ending love, support and encouragement.

THAT NIGHT

Lisa McManus

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Another freaking Monday morning. I always got a rush out of driving to school––it could never get old––but I was missing my bed right then. Big time. Why did they always have to start school so early? Even a guy needs his beauty sleep. Not that I’m vain or anything, but really, why so early? And to think I had four more of these mornings. At least they wouldn’t be a ‘Monday.’ And at least this week, of all weeks, would lead to something good at the end. Not just a weekend, either.

I knew it was gonna be a great day, and a great week. If everything turned out the way I hoped, at least, life would be perfect.

Hey, Paul. I nodded to Paul Jones, a buddy from my shop class, as I wove my way through the cars in the school parking lot. I could still smell the oil burning from my car as it ticked and cooled behind me. What do you expect from a vintage ’67 Chevy Impala? The thing’s old, but man, that ride is every mechanic’s wet dream. I saved up for it by pumping gas over at Bob’s Gas ‘n’ Go, and eventually got the classic machine running on my own. Logging time for work experience while working at Bob’s helped me learn a few tricks, too. But despite all the work I had done on the old car, not only had it started blowing blue smoke a few days before but the muffler had finally bitten the dust, too. I could only hope my mechanics teacher, Mr. Yamagata, had a spare muffler I could score off him. And if he had a few grand to give me to put into the sleek machine, that would be great.

I had to get that thing fixed, and soon. Our neighbour, Mrs. Ceylone, had been complaining about the noise. The last thing I needed was anyone, let alone a crazy cat lady, thinking I couldn’t maintain a car. A lot was riding on that car––a lot.

I barely made it a few steps away from Paul when I stopped. His silence caught me off-guard. I half-turned and just when I caught his eye he looked down at the ground, clearly uncomfortable. Weird. He’s a bit awkward at times, but still a nice guy. What was up with him?

He finally looked up, but barely met my eyes. Uh, hey, Luke. Uh...how’s it goin’? I swear I detected a hint of surprise from his half-glance, as if it was odd I was there, or something. The other guys with him gave me weird looks. They travelled in a pack, their bond, Physics 101. They lived, breathed, and ate physics, chemistry and anything else that involved formulas. I had known these guys since kindergarten, never-mind my parents knowing Paul’s, since like, forever. Paul might look like a physics dude, but he was in my mechanics class and of course was top of the class. Him being a mechanic just didn’t ‘match’ his persona. He just didn’t look like the type of guy who would be happy under the hood of a car, oil and grease under his fingernails. His too-skinny arms looked like they’d barely be able to loosen a too-tight bolt.

You got all your paperwork ready for Friday? I asked. We were both applying to Camosun College for the first-year auto technician program, starting in the fall.

If I can convince Mr. Yamagata I’m good enough for it, I thought.

Uh, ya. Um, sure. Paul gave me a fake smile. How about you? You’re still applying, right?

That was my cue to leave. I didn’t want to have to explain to a bunch of guys how my getting into the course solely depended on help from Mr. Yamagata––especially the same guys who were, by then, looking at me like I had the plague or something.

Yeah, I got it all sorted out. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what was wrong with them. I wasn’t about to let them see things weren’t as perfect and easy-peasy for me as for them.

But they were sure looking at me with strange expressions. Did I have toothpaste on my hoodie? I looked down: nothing. Did I stink? I sniffed my shirt: nothing. I knew the air freshener dangling from the radio dial in my car was pretty potent, but it barely masked the old puke smell I couldn’t seem to get rid of, inside the car. Maybe I smelled like a mix of residual puke and pine. Even something that stank like fermenting pine trees couldn’t get rid of the smell of puke.

Mr. Yamagata had given me the air freshener when I first got the car. I think it was kind of a ‘congratulations on your new car’ gift. A silhouette of our school’s mascot, a wolf, was in the center with our school’s motto,Fiduciam, Unitas, Quantum encircling the wolf. Apparently they’re some old Latin words meaning, Trust, Unity, Respect or something like that. The words were meant to be a ‘moral compass’ for us to follow. Yeah, right. But whatever the purpose of the words, the little disk still looked cool, and the wolf the best part. When the school celebrated its thirtieth anniversary last year they had a bunch of them made up but only the ‘select few’ got one, meaning, mostly the teachers and any so-called responsible car owners. I didn’t know if I had exactly proven myself ‘responsible’ yet, but I was secretly proud Mr. Yamagata had given me one. An air freshener was really no big deal to most people, but getting one from Mr. Yamagata, that was a big deal to me.

I have never told anyone, not even Jessica, but I kind of consider the wolf my own personal mascot. One time in grade 10 English, our nearly-dead teacher Mr. Hunter went on and on about symbols and what they meant in novels. English has never been my ‘thing’ and I struggled that year to stay awake in class, but for some reason that day he got my attention. He went on and on about animals and what they can mean to some people. When he got to talking about the wolf as a symbol, I was intrigued. The old teacher started by telling us how a wolf is loyal. I could relate––I considered myself pretty loyal. My friends always said I was, at least. Then he said a wolf symbolizes an ‘appetite for freedom and having strong instincts.’ I don’t travel in a pack like many people do, and I sometimes think I’m a bit of a ‘lone wolf’. I guess it’s why being a mechanic kind of works for me. But the whole thing about freedom and instincts kind of stuck with me. I figured that was why I wanted my own car sometimes, to be able to just ‘get away’ when I wanted. As for the instincts thing? I knew I was pretty good at trusting my gut, especially when it came to people. I usually knew when someone was either ‘good’ or when they were trying to screw me around. I can’t explain how, but whatever so-called instincts I had often came in handy.

Jessica.

Lately, I just couldn’t figure her out. Something was ‘off’ with her, and maybe my instincts were out of whack––I don’t know, but something wasn’t ... right. I had a lot on my mind lately, which might explain why my instincts were a bit shaky. But I knew we’d work things out. I just knew it. We were just going through a bit of a bump, and then everything would work out how it should.

And as if giving me the air freshener wasn’t enough––like an air freshener is some big deal––Mr. Yamagata said he would help me with the college and scholarship application paperwork. When not busy teaching mechanics to us ‘goons’ as he called us, the laid-back teacher also moonlighted as school counsellor. He knew my folks couldn’t afford the tuition, so he was helping me out. And it wasn’t my parents’ fault they couldn’t