CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
When Gabe arrived at school the next morning, Bud already sat in his seat, but Mick wasn’t at his desk. Frowning, he stopped by Bud, bent down as if to pick up something, and whispered, “Where’s Mick? Is he sick or...?” He didn’t say beat up, again, but he thought it.
Bud gave him a curious look, like ‘Do you really care?’ He must have decided Gabe did care because he whispered back, hand cupped to his mouth to keep others from hearing, “We’ll talk, boy’s room, after class.”
Gabe nodded, took his seat, and tried to concentrate on Mrs. Warbler. Impossible. Time dragged by while the image of Mick lying on the floor, his father towering over him, kept flashing through his head. Is he sick today? He gritted his teeth together. Dumb question after what I saw happen. His f
