Back from Camp

Hot, sweaty, aching and tired, Matthew Calamori, Tom Brown, Troy Meecham, and Randon Spade along with many of their classmates from Gulinger Private Academy staggered from their school bus and stumbled up the steps of their New York private school, happy to be home from summer camp. Most groaned with joy, seeking the showers directly. But H. Richard Deacon the third almost skipped in, singing loudly, “…I want to be a part of it! New York! New York!”

His reddish brown hair stood out at all ends, wildly messed up.

“Shut up!” Lee jabbed Rick in the back. “It was bad enough they made us sing those stupid songs at camp.”

“How can you have this much energy?” Troy moaned.

Randon dragged his feet alongside him. If he had his tail, it would have been drooping.

Rick shrugged, following his friends inside then passing them while walking backwards. “Come on! Camp was awesome! And a new school year! Whoo!”

“Don’t talk about school.” Tom moaned.

But Rick only grinned. “Are you kidding? It is your senior year. You should be happy about that. And I’m officially a sophomore! Driver’s Ed this year! Woo hoo!”

Matt whimpered, too tired to play along with Rick’s enthusiasm. Rick had been that way the entire month at camp, rolling in the dirt as if he weren’t the heir to billions. And though Matt had been used to Tom’s daily overabundance of energy, it was nothing compared to Rick’s in the wild.

Tom yawned, looking around as they all migrated to their separate floors. They traveled several yards before when, with a puzzled blink, he said, “Hey. Doesn’t it seem less…crowded to you?”

The boys looked around, waking up slightly from their bus ride. Rick turned his gaze away, ignoring what Tom had just said. In fact, he hurried a faster towards his room. The hall was indeed less full. Actually, about half of the Gulinger boys were not in it.

“Hey,” Randon looked around, frowning, “Where’s Keenan?”

“And Gerald,” someone else asked.

Rick rushed even faster towards his room to get a change of clothes.

Chasing after him, Matt grabbed hold of Rick’s ear before he could get through the door. “Hey. You know something.”

“OW!” Rick clutched Matt’s hand and pried it off. “Let go!”

“What’s going on?” Tom rushed around him, standing in his roommate’s way.

Almost immediately Rick’s face turned a beet sort of red. He tried to avert his eyes, but the other boys in their crowd surrounded him.

“Out with it, wolf.” Randon folded his arms.

“Jeeze!” Rick hunkered down, contemplating turning all wolf to slip out of their reach. But before he could make that decision, the school’s loudspeaker turned on and the headmaster, Mr. Wilderman, spoke.

<>

All the boys rounded on Rick again.

“What is going on?” Matt asked once more.

Whimpering first, Rick then hunched down into a wolf, abandoning his shoes. He darted between their legs. He was gone before they could catch him.

“Dang it!” Matt stomped his foot.

Troy turned to Tom. “Torture him with imps! We’ve got to catch him! He’s the only one who knows what’s going on.”

But Tom shook his head. He leaned back and folded his arms as he said, “Not true. I can guess what’s going on without him telling me.”

Everyone leaned in, listening.

With a shrug, Tom said, “Isn’t it obvious? Look at who is missing. Gulinger Private Academy just got split in half. Everyone else went to West End Prep.”

Assembly

It was the fastest group shower everyone had ever done. Clean and eagerly sitting in their seats, the boys and girls of Gulinger Private Academy—those that remained anyway—sat in the first few rows of their almost empty auditorium. Apparently West End Prep had taken over sixty percent of the Gulinger kids, most of them mafis.

Tom had explained it. At camp, when they were departing, the students transferring to West End were separated from those that would be returning to Gulinger at the busses. Their bags had all been packed and shipped during the month they were gone, and the school would be rearranged to accommodate more students. Tom predicted that Gulinger would take on the more dangerous ghoulies and the less ‘intellectual’ mafis. Lee wasn’t happy when he was put into that category.

They eventually found Rick hiding in the headmaster’s office, begging for protection from his classmates until the changeover was finished. Rick backed into the wall when his pals entered the office, and Mr. Wilderman was of no help to Rick, almost grinning at the fifteen-year-old werewolf’s discomfort. But Matt assured Rick with a little gesture of friendship that they would not use water torture to get the truth out of him, and Tom promised to keep the cat off of him during the assembly.

Rolling his eyes at their sarcasm, Rick left willingly with them.

“But why didn’t you tell us?” Matt asked as they dragged Rick to the auditorium in a headlock once they were out of the office.

All their other classmates turned the moment they came inside the large hall to get their seats.

Rick snorted, having already given up trying to get out of Matt’s grip. “Are you kidding? If I said even the smallest thing on the topic you would have heard more than I was allowed to tell you.”

“Allowed to tell us?” Troy had a constrictor-hold on Rick’s arm also. “You were sworn to secrecy? By whom?”

“Your father,” Matt murmured.

Nodding under Matt’s chokehold, Rick sighed. “I found out on accident. Keenan let it slip, actually.”

“Keenan told you?” Tom murmured. He tilted his head curiously.

“When I asked my dad about it, he said that too many kids here would get upset at being left behind.” Rick shrugged. “West End isn’t under Dad’s jurisdiction, so there will be a number of mafis especially that will feel cheated.”

They claimed seats near the front. Matt eventually let go of Rick. But they put him in the center of their group, as now their classmates were glaring at the grandson of the man who had initially built Gulinger Private Academy. Indeed, every one of their classmates was sure Rick was in on the entire changeover.

Promptly at one o’clock, Mr. Wilderman and the school’s staff walked to the center of the stage. The boys noticed that several of their old teachers were no longer there. And there were new ones.

“Hey, where’s Coach Peters?”

“And Mr. Rodman?”

“Ms. Schaeffer isn’t here.”

“Why are so many teachers missing?”

Rick slipped lower in his seat each time someone asked. Many glared at him accusatorily, sure he was the cause so many were missing.

Mr. Wilderman addressed the crowd. “Students of Gulinger Private Academy. At the start of this new school year, there will be a number of changes. First, as you may have already noticed, a large portion of our student body has been taken to another institution for their studies. A few of you are already aware of the formation of this new school, but today we can officially announce it to you. This year, West End Prep, our new sister school, will be opening. Those

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 20.09.2014
ISBN: 978-3-7368-5210-5

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