Shatterproof Read online

  Shatterproof

  Jocelyn Shipley

  Orca currents

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  For Seth, Eva, James, Lucas, Lauren and Iris

  Copyright © 2016 Jocelyn Shipley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Shipley, Jocelyn, author

  Shatterproof / Jocelyn Shipley.

  (Orca currents)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-1361-8 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1362-5 (pdf).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1363-2 (epub)

  I. Title. II. Series: Orca currents

  PS8587.H563S53 2016 jC813'.6 C2016-900775-8

  C2016-900776-6

  First published in the United States, 2016

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016931877

  Summary: In this high-interest novel for middle readers, thirteen-year-old Nate gets caught up in a money-making scam based on his resemblance to a celebrity.

  Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts,and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover photography by Getty Images

  Author Photo by Michael Galan

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Saturday morning I wake up earlier than I do on a school day. I want to leave before I lose my nerve and change my mind. I can’t go without checking on Mom, so I poke my head into her room. She’s awake but still in bed, tucked under her flowery pink duvet. “Okay, I’m off now,” I say, not making eye contact. Not looking at the wheelchair waiting for her. “See you tonight. Love you.”

  “Bye, love you too.” Mom waves and blows me a kiss. “Let me know when you get there. And have a great day!”

  I rush to the front door, almost colliding with Etta, Mom’s community health worker. “Going for a run?” she asks, stepping aside for me.

  I do train most mornings. But not today. “Cross-country meet in Victoria. Coach is driving the team down, then taking us all out for dinner after.” It’s the same story I told Mom.

  But that’s not where I’m going.

  “Sounds wonderful,” Etta says. “You deserve some fun.”

  I nod, afraid she’ll guess I’m lying. “I really wish you were on shift later.” Etta is Mom’s favorite CHW. But after she gets Mom up and bathed this morning, she will be off for a couple of days.

  “Your mom will be fine, just like when you’re at school.” Etta hangs up her coat and checks her phone. “You’re a big help, Nate. She’s lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks. It’s just that I’m always here for dinner.”

  Etta pats my shoulder. “You worry too much. You need to have some fun. Go have a good time.”

  Guilt almost stops me.

  But I can’t wait to get out of Herring Bay and off Vancouver Island. I can’t wait to see my friend Lug again. I can’t wait to hang out like we used to.

  I wish I could sleep over at Lug’s. Or even stay a couple hours longer. But it’s too risky. Sneaking away for one short day will have to be enough.

  I jog down our lane and out to the bus stop on the highway. The bus takes me to the ferry terminal. It’s going to be expensive, but this day will be so worth it.

  As soon as I board the ferry, I rush to line up for the café. The aroma of fried food makes me ravenous. I order bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast, grab a table and devour my feast. Man, it tastes good, especially since I didn’t have to make it. I’ve been doing a lot of cooking since Mom’s accident.

  Then I find a window seat near the video arcade. I can’t waste any money in there, so I plug in my earbuds and listen to music. I drift off to sleep for a while.

  When I open my eyes Vancouver is coming into view on the horizon. It looks like a toy city off in the distance. I head out to the deck for some fresh air.

  It’s a crisp fall day, partly sunny with a light wind. The ocean shines a deep greenish-blue. Fluffy white clouds cap the coastal mountains.

  But the closer the ferry sails to the terminal, the worse I feel about leaving Mom today. Yeah, she manages on her own during the week, but when I’m not there, she’s lonely. After she broke her back skiing last winter, she lost her job, her busy life and most of her friends. “Nate,” she often says, “what would I ever do without you?”

  Dad left two weeks after she came home from rehab. He renovated our house to make it accessible for her, and then he moved out. What a jerk!

  Actually, he’d started being a jerk before Mom’s accident. Maybe he would have left anyway. But his timing sucked. At least he pays for a lot of help for Mom. It made me mad when Mom asked if I’d be seeing him today, since he lives in Victoria. Like I’d want to spend time with him. I haven’t talked to my dad since he left. Mom’s question also added to my guilt, because she believes I’m going to Victoria.

  I hate myself for lying to her. But she forbade me to ever see or talk to Lug again. And that’s not fair. Lug has been my best friend for eight years.

  I feel bad about Mom’s accident and all, but she can’t tell me who to be friends with. If Lug hadn’t moved to Vancouver in July, I would be sneaking around behind her back to see him. I’d be forced to lie to her like I’m doing today.

  It was such a long, boring summer without Lug. I had nothing to do but help at home with shopping, cooking and cleaning. I had nobody to hang out with except Mom. And she was struggling to adjust to life in a wheelchair and to Dad leaving.

  It was way beyond depressing.

  Now I’ve started high school and met some kids. But I don’t have any close friends yet. So when Lug texted me to come visit, I said yes.

  Then I worked out my fake story for Mom.

  She was almost too easy to fool. The idea of me competing at a cross-country meet made her so happy. See, she used to be a track star in high school. She got her degree in phys ed, then worked as a fitness instructor. She even coached my soccer team.

  Now she knits. And knits. And knits.

  I’m not proud of what I’m doing. But the past seven months have been brutal for me too.

  Etta’s right. I need to have some fun.

  And Lug’s the guy to make that happen.

  Chapter Two

  The ferry docking announcement sounds. I hurry along with the other passengers down the walkway and through the terminal. On the sidewalk outside, I wait for Lug to pick me up as planned.

  I text Mom. Made it to Victoria ok.

  She replies, Great! Good luck!! Love u!!!

  Half an hour passes. All the other passengers have left on buses or been picked u
p. Maybe Lug forgot I was coming?

  Clouds close in over the sun. Drizzling rain starts. Within minutes it’s pouring down full force. I go back inside the terminal to wait.

  I’m about to text Lug when a black SUV pulls up. Lug’s older sister, Dakota, is driving. She’s seventeen and gorgeous. She’s also a classic mean girl.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” I say as I climb into the back beside Lug. It’s best to be polite to Dakota. But I don’t trust her. She’s made Lug’s life hell over the years.

  “Whatever,” she says. “It was the only way I could get to use the car today. If it was my choice, I’d never drive you guys anywhere. Especially to the mall to ogle girls.”

  “Hey, dude,” Lug says. “Good to see ya. Sorry we’re late. Dakota had to do her nails.”

  Dakota does a little finger wave with one hand. Her long nails are painted black. She could probably kill with them.

  “No problem,” I say.

  Dakota doesn’t answer, just checks me out in the rearview mirror.

  “Don’t know how you stand living on the Island,” Lug says. “It’s way cooler here.”

  “I know, I know.” There’s so much more to do in the city. I wish I could come over every weekend. Or at least once a month.

  Dakota merges onto the highway. It starts to rain harder. She adjusts the windshield wipers to full speed. Then she glances at me in the rearview mirror again. “Wow, Nate,” she says. “You really grew up over the summer.”

  She’s right. I’m way taller. And I’m a lot leaner and more muscular from running. “Um, yeah, I guess,” I say.

  Is she setting me up?

  “You’ve lost that baby-face thing you had going on,” she says. “You look hot.”

  “Dakota!” Lug says. “Shut up! Don’t hit on my friends.”

  She laughs and signals a lane change. When we’re in the fast lane, she flicks her long blond hair over her shoulders. “Seriously, Nate,” she says. “Got a girlfriend yet?”

  “No.” And I’m not discussing girlfriends with Dakota.

  “That’s hard to believe. You look like the guy on that show, the one about the teen detective.”

  This must be a setup.

  “You know the one,” she says, slowing down to exit the highway. “Bo Blaketon? On Shatterproof?”

  “Oh, please,” Lug says. But he takes a long look at me. “Okay, maybe a little bit.” Maybe Dakota means it. Because a girl at school told me that too. She seemed surprised when she saw me after the summer. So did a couple other kids.

  When we are stopped at a traffic light, Dakota turns around to stare at me. “Yeah, you totally look like Bo Blaketon. Bet you can get a lot of girls now.” She sounds serious.

  “Dunno.” What else can I say?

  Dakota turns left onto Seaview Drive. “What I don’t know is why you’d want to be seen with Laurence the loser.”

  Laurence is Lug’s real name. But last year Dakota got everybody calling him Lug. It is supposed to be funny because he’s stocky and odd-looking. I used to call him Lego Man because he’s kind of square shaped with a short neck.

  Lug and I both know not to get into it with Dakota. We ignore her and start talking about the games we want to buy.

  When Dakota drops us off at West Pacific Mall, she says to me, “See ya, Bo. Have fun picking up girls. And do me a favor? Don’t let Laurence be a perv, okay?”

  I say, “Thanks again for the ride. Bye.”

  Lug says, “Hope you crash.”

  As we head for the entrance I ask him, “So how come it’s Laurence now?” Trust me, Lug is not a Laurence.

  “My sister’s just trying to ruin my life,” Lug says. “As usual.”

  At first he hated being called Lug. Then it caught on, and he liked the tough sound of it. That is why Dakota wants to call him Laurence now.

  “Yup, that’s her goal,” I say.

  “I still can’t believe she ratted us out.”

  “You,” I say. “She ratted you out. I was totally innocent.”

  Here’s what happened. At a beach party after our grad, Lug took photos of some popular girls. They’d changed from their fancy dresses into bikinis and were dancing around the fire. Then he Photoshopped them so it looked like the girls were also smoking and drinking.

  Dakota hacked into his iPad and found the photos. She figured out he wanted to make money from them. He was planning to blackmail those girls.

  I don’t know why he thought that would work. Somebody would have figured out pretty fast that the photos were fake. All I know is that Lug’s weird about girls. He’s obsessed with them, but he doesn’t seem to respect them. I think it comes from the way Dakota treats him.

  It turned out that one of the girls was Dakota’s best friend’s little sister. So Dakota told her friend. Her friend told their parents. Their parents told Lug’s parents. Lug said I was in on it too, so they also told Mom.

  Lug’s parents convinced everyone to let it go after he proved he’d deleted the photos. They searched his phone, iPad and laptop. He also had to write an apology to the girls. Then his family moved to Vancouver, but that had already been planned.

  Mom freaked about the whole thing. I got grounded for two weeks. Which was insanely unfair, because I wasn’t in on it.

  Okay, I was there when Lug took the photos. But I had no idea what he was planning. See, it was right after Dad left. I was dazed with confusion and rage. All I could think about was myself. How my life had changed.

  But Mom said I should have stopped Lug from taking the photos. I should have known he was up to something, because he always is. She said he was a bad influence. She said I couldn’t hang out with him. Ever again.

  But here I am.

  Chapter Three

  Our plan is to check out the mall’s game and skate stores. Then we’ll eat burgers and fries at the food court. Then we’ll go to a movie. And then I’ll catch another bus and the five o’clock ferry home.

  Before we go inside, Lug stops for a cigarette. This is new.

  “When did you start smoking?” I ask him.

  “Over the summer. Want one?” He offers me the pack.

  “No, thanks. I’m training for cross-country.”

  “So?” He huddles under the entrance overhang. Right beside the No Smoking Within 10 Meters sign.

  “So it’s kind of bad for your lungs.” I don’t like standing there in the rain with him. “I’ll be in the game store.”

  “Up to you.”

  I leave him with all the other smokers.

  In a few minutes Lug comes to find me. We spend an hour looking at the new games. I can’t afford anything. I have just enough money for the bus, ferry and food. It took awhile to save that up.

  Lug buys a couple of games he wants. Then we head for the skate shop.

  On our way we pass a kiosk full of sunglasses. The upscale ones are locked in glass cases. But the cheaper ones are arranged on spinning racks. Some girls are there, trying them on, giggling and taking selfies.

  “Let’s check those out,” Lug says. I’m not sure if he means the sunglasses or the girls. But whatever, I can look at both.

  We circle the kiosk, studying the different styles and sneaking looks at the girls. They sneak looks at us too. Strange. Girls usually ignore us.

  “It would be so easy,” Lug says.

  I pick up a pair of fake designer sunglasses. “What would?” I hope he’s not thinking we should try to pick up a couple of those girls.

  Lug glances at the sales guy in the booth, who is also watching the girls. Does he think they’re hot or that they’re going to shoplift? Probably both.

  “He’s not paying any attention to us,” Lug says. “Just grab the ones you want.” He starts to slide a pair of sunglasses under his hoodie.

  I have to stop him. We can’t get into trouble. “Hey, over here?” I call to the sales guy. “How much are these?” I hold up a random pair of sunglasses.

  The sales guy comes out of the k
iosk to take a closer look.

  Lug puts the sunglasses he was going to steal back on the rack.

  “Twenty bucks,” the sales guy says, keeping one eye on the girls. “It says right here on the tag.”

  “Too much,” I say.

  He shrugs. “Two for thirty-five.”

  “Still too much. But thanks anyway.”

  We hurry away. When we’re out of the sales guy’s hearing, Lug says, “Thanks a lot, man. You almost got me busted.”

  “Exactly. You can afford those. You don’t have to steal them.”

  “I know. But it’s the challenge.”

  “Well, guess what? I don’t need the challenge of my mom getting a call from security at West Pacific Mall.”

  “Does she even know you’re here?”

  “No, and she can’t find out.” We walk on in silence. I’d forgotten how Lug is always up to something. And how that something usually gets him in trouble. Gets us in trouble.

  “Excuse me?” a soft voice says. We both turn to see the group of girls from the kiosk following us.

  Lug’s eyes light up. “Well, hello there. How can we help you lovely ladies?”

  I cringe. Doesn’t he know how fake he sounds? How pathetic?

  The girls eye me like I’m a superhero or something. “This might sound crazy,” one of them says to me, “but we were just wondering.”

  “You were?” I ask. She looks perfect. Tight jeans, funky boots, long shiny black hair. “Wondering what?”

  She blushes and can’t speak. Her friends urge her on. “Okay,” she finally says. “Here goes. Are you, um, are you Bo Blaketon?”

  “What?”

  “Are you Bo Blaketon? You know, from Shatterproof?”

  Whoa. How I wish I was.

  I glance over at Lug. His eyebrows have shot way up, and his mouth hangs wide-open. He’s probably thinking what I am. This is too weird. Dakota said the same thing in the car.

  “Yeah, I know that show,” I say. “But no, sorry, I’m not him.”

  The girl tilts her head and squints at me. “Are you sure?”

  I snort. “Last time I checked.”