Last of the Mighty Read Online Free PDF

was still in motion, I was in a hurry to activate Plan B—search and destroy. But I’d have to wait till my body was ready.
    Today would be my first day back at school since my date with Chool. On the way to class, I stopped by my mother’s grave in the church cemetery. I cringed when I saw the headstone. Broken and jagged with only a third of it left in the ground. And I had done it. When I’d tossed Chool over my hip. Guess whose headstone he crashed into? I’d probably never get the cash to fix it either. I bowed my head, talked to my mom for a while, and was off to school.
    I was almost to first period, my fingertip appreciating my cheekbone’s new scar, when the suckfest began. Some guy trying to pass me in the corridor rammed his shoulder into my back. Right into the stitches. Deep and hard. Felt like that hyena-dog was tearing into me again. Guy just kept rolling too. Peered back after ten yards, grinning, like he’d thoroughly enjoyed that.
    I should’ve said something, but didn’t. Merryn was right. I was G-rated. Way G. Even with my stitches burning and the guy’s annoying face, I convinced myself there were more important things. Like the stuff I’d learned from The Committee a few nights ago. Who were Smiler and Knock, and why should they care about me? And who told me to listen?
    In the last two days, I’d dialed up The Committee nineteen times trying to locate Smiler and Knock again. Nothing. Even listened out for any info on Chool, hoping someone would drop some knowledge. You know, where he got his cappuccino, name of his dog groomer, home address... But The Committee didn’t yield squat.
    The morning’s sucktion continued with only a few minor incidents—disagreement with a teacher, visit to the principal’s office—and I was happy to arrive at wrestling practice in one piece. Since my injuries had forced me to miss every practice last week, this was to be my first of the season.
    Coach Burns wasn’t pleased to see me.
    Burns was a farmer’s son from the Bible Belt who’d been coaching for thirty years. Good at it too, and, in normal circumstances, he liked me. Perhaps because I’d never lost a high school wrestling match.
    Coach started in on me about my injuries—like it was my fault.
    â€œIt’s hahgwahsh, Caffrey! Tahmfoolery! I thahhht you were serious about a schahhlarship, Ahhg.” He took off his baseball cap and ran a pahhlm over his bahhlding head. “Malahhrky like that gets wrestlers hurt, understand? Should be ashamed of yourself. Any more of it and you’re ahhff the team. We clear?”
    Then he made me run. Two miles. I didn’t mind. Needed to build my endurance to battle Chool, Smiler, and Knock.
    Coach Burns stopped me so I could meet our newest teammate, Tucker. He had transferred to our school last month. He was six-three, two-twenty with surfer blond hair that curled up like cute little fishhooks at the tips. Coach said Tucker was ahhsome and he wanted to wrestle heavyweight. As there can be only one first-string heavyweight on the varsity team, this was problematic.
    For him anyway.
    I won state last year.
    Even with my stitches, Tucker couldn’t touch me.
    And I was eager to prove it. More than eager. I longed to bust him up bad, crush him to dust. Not because I was some crazy, power-mad lunatic. And not because this guy was challenging me for the first-string heavyweight slot. It was because Tucker happened to be the crotch-weed who rammed me in the corridor.
    He was still wearing that same infuriating smile.
    Sadly, Burns would never put me on the mat with a wound still healing on my back. It’d be another week, at least, until he’d let me wrestle. Maybe then I’d get to demolish Tucker and his huge ego.
    So imagine the completeness of my joy when Coach Burns asked, “So Ahhg, feeling up for it?”

Chapter Ten
    I slipped into my headgear and did a few