Read Astray for Free Online Page A

laughter spreads through the crowd. I hate reporters.
    “Roll up the window and get inside,” the sheriff says, purposely putting his back to the row of cameramen so that they can’t get a good angle on the car or us. The reporter’s questions are muffled once Taylor rolls the window back up. I get up off of the car’s floor and sit low in the seat. There are groups of students gathering on the school’s side of the fence now, posing for the cameras. I can’t imagine why they’d want the attention. A few of the kids have noticed me and are pointing at the car; behind them the chain-link fencing bows a little as several reporters lean even harder against it, straining to see.
    Taylor drives forward slowly. Students pass along either side of the car; some tap the hood and laugh, and others lean down and stare in at us. Taylor waves. She seems to be enjoying all of the attention. I just want it all to go away. I’m a sideshow and the day hasn’t even really started. Is it too late to turn around?
    A van is working its way up the road to the school. It’s white and has long scuff marks along its sides. It rolls to a stop before it reaches the entrance when a group of people fan out across the road holding signs. I can’t see what the signs say, but I don’t have to. The people are yelling loud enough to be heard inside the car, even with all the windows rolled up. “No cults in our schools!”
    I watch as several deputies force them off the road. One man struggles to stay and ends up in handcuffs. The shouting gets louder for a moment, but then the deputies manage to subdue the crowd and motion the van through the school’s gates. I stare at it as it slowly passes us. I have enough time to get a good look at the driver. It’s the same guy who was standing with Brian at the hospital. I recognize his dark black hair, trimmed tight to his scalp so that it looks like someone’s peppered his head. There are lots more people behind him, their faces pressed against the glass. It’s Will, Brian, and the others. They stare at me. Julie waves. Before I think better of it, I wave back. It’s hard to see her as anything other than a friend … but the way she talked to that reporter the other morning … I’m not sure that I know this new version of her. Maybe that’s fair. She doesn’t know this new version of me either.
    Suddenly there’s a roar of noise from behind me. The news people have pushed the fence too hard and it’s leaning forward. They’re all shouting and jockeying for a better vantage point. They know that the van has the Community kids in it.
    “
Get back!
” I hear shouts from several deputies. They rush the fence with their hands on their guns. A string of police cars stream down the road, sirens blaring.
    “They called in the state police,” Cody says. He shakes his head. “What a mess.”
    I follow the van with my eyes as it parks by the school buses. In some ways I almost wish I was in it. I still missWill and Julie and the others. They were my closest friends. Cody and his family have been really nice and understanding, but they can’t really know what this day is like for me, for all of us. They can never understand the deep pit of mistrust we have to try to bridge just to walk in the school doors.
    I turn around again. A deputy pulls the school’s gate closed. I guess they’ll have to keep opening and closing it all morning until all of the other students arrive.
Weird how we left one gated compound only to enter another one
. Why does the school even need a fence and gate like this? Who are they trying to keep out?
    “Later. Good luck today, Lyla,” Taylor says as she gathers up her things and rushes across the lot. She’s got a thin cropped leather jacket on—her favorite. She refuses to wear anything warmer even if it is freezing, and so she just runs from the car every time we go out somewhere. I watch her weave through cars, her high-heeled boots clicking across the