Ghost of Spirit Bear by Ben Mikaelsen

the officer that it had taken far more courage to visit Keith in the hospital than to file charges or fight him with fists. A huge weight lifted off his shoulders as he walked from the police station. It was the first time in his life that he felt he had really won a fight, not by controlling Keith but by controlling his own reaction. This was what Garvey had been talking about.
    Cole rode home with his mother, lost in thought. He had always assumed that when two people fought, someone needed to lose. But today, nobody had lost. Cole realized he had done more than make it hard for Keith to be an enemy. By preserving Keith’s dignity, he had also saved his own.
    It was a week before Keith returned to school, his cheeks and nose still bandaged. Cole spotted him in the hallway and approached him. “How are you doing?” he asked.
    Distrust showed in Keith’s eyes. “How does it look like I’m doing?”
    “Man, you really crashed hard,” Cole said. “Are you okay?”
    “It hurts to talk and I have trouble breathing. Does that make you happy?”
    “I didn’t want you hurt,” Cole said.
    He could see Keith struggling with his emotions. “Thanks for dropping the charges,” Keith said. “Why did you do that? And why did you help me when I crashed and then come to see me in the hospital?”
    Cole shrugged. “To show you I wasn’t a jerk.”
    Keith stared down at his shoes. “I’m the one who’s been a jerk.”
    The bell rang.
    “We better get going,” Cole said, feeling the world lift from his shoulders.
    Cole felt good to be sorting some things out for himself, but Minneapolis Central High still simmered with fear and anger. Tensions ran high, and each morning the bulldog’s pedestal was tagged with new gang symbols. Many students feared coming to school. Cole wondered how long it would be before something boiled over.
    His answer came all too soon.
    That weekend the school was vandalized; windows were broken and paint was sprayed on the front doors.
    After school on Monday, Cole was waiting patiently for Peter near the front entrance. Students milled around, talking and waiting for rides. When Peter didn’t show, Cole returned inside. From the hallway, he spotted a commotion in the main office. Peter’s parents were there, along with Ms. Kennedy and the school nurse, all crowding around someone in a chair. Cole ran in to find Peter, sitting bent over, clothes torn and face bruised and swollen. “What happened?” he cried.
    Peter’s father turned and gave Cole a shove. “Get away from our son.”
    Cole backed away and watched as Peter was helped to his feet and led, limping, from the office. His lip was cut and his eye was swollen, nearly closed.
    “What happened?” Cole asked the secretary.
    “He was attacked in one of the bathrooms. Somebody turned out the lights and beat him up.”
    Cole thought he might vomit. Peter had worked so hard and come so far—he didn’t deserve this. Cole felt responsible. Stomach churning, he walked from the school and wandered aimlessly. He wished he was on a spaceship leaving Earth, never to return.
    When he finally got home, Cole skipped eating and told his mother he didn’t feel good. He spent the evening lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
    The next morning at school, word of Peter getting beat up was overshadowed by news that one of the students had committed suicide by taking a bunch of drugs. It turned out to be the girl who’d been called a slut the first day of school—the one Cole had helped when she was hassled in the cafeteria. Her mother had found a note beside her bed saying she couldn’t take being picked on anymore.
    Talk of the suicide spread like wildfire. Cole walked the halls feeling numb. First the vandalism, then Peter’s beating, and now this! His eyes filled with tears. It was crazy, so crazy. Suicide hadn’t killed the girl. The kids who tormented her were the real killers.
    After school, Cole returned home and called Peter’s