by Zachary Ryan
I felt her hand squeeze mine. I turned to look at her again. I could see all the love and fear splashed across her face. “Is everything okay at home?” she asked. “They aren’t harming you?”
I shook my head. “No. My father isn’t being abusive to either one of us. He’s just upset about his mom dying. My mother doesn’t know how to handle it.” I stopped because I didn’t want to say it out loud. “My happy home is gone, and I don’t know how to cope with it.”
“Everyone goes through patches. I was in a dark place when Gabe’s father passed. I thought I would never get over it. I tried with all of my heart to not be angry with the world. He was on his way to meet us at the hospital. I wanted nothing more than that guy to not have to drink and drive. I look at Gabe, and he reminds me so much of his father. I think that was supposed to be his legacy.”
I smiled. “Yeah, he’s pretty great.”
“Do you like this boy?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m in love with him.”
I saw her whole face brighten up. The thing about Candice was she thought of us all as her children. She was front row for Zachary’s performances, read all of Lane’s poems, and she called out Ben when he needed it. I could see she was over the moon for my relationship with Jarele. It made me feel a little bit sad, because my parents were too focused on hating each other than to get to know the man that I loved.
“You should let him in. I know it might be scary, and he could reject you. But he could also be your happy place when things get rough. It sounds like he’s an incredible guy, and he would protect you from that kind of darkness,” she said.
“What if he runs?”
“Then he was just a foolish boy focused on his lust not his love,” she said.
I leaned forward and hugged her. I needed that motherly advice, and I needed it badly. I loved my mother, but she had been very vacant as of late. I knew I couldn’t be mad at her. She didn’t know how to be strong for herself, let alone for me. I leaned on Candice so much, and I went to her for all the highs of my relationship. I wished nothing more that I could go to her about the lows in the relationship now.
I came back to reality. I reached for my phone. I scrolled to Jarele’s number. I clicked on it to send him a text message. I knew he would be here in an instant if I needed him, but I thought of Angela. I thought of the day of the shooting. He had run off with her because she was his happy bubble now, and I was his darkness. I curled up to that phone, and I wished nothing more than for my happy place to come back to me.
Chapter Fifty-One
Lane
I tried not to think about it too much, but it always crossed my mind about my final night with Gabe. It was stupid for me to sit here trying to produce another poem, because no amount of words would describe my hatred, guilt, and shame for that final conversation.
I didn’t hear a response, so I went to open the door. Gabe was at his desk writing. “Are you working on our new short story?” I asked.
He turned and glared at me. I saw the bruises all over his face. He slammed his notebook shut. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
I gave him a weird look. “I heard what happened at the dance. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed his book bag. He grabbed the notebook, but a piece of paper fell to the floor. “Like you even give a shit. Like anyone really gives a shit about me.”
I walked over to console him. I knew exactly how he felt about feeling like you had no one in your corner. I was in that dark place almost a year ago. Hell, I was still in that horrible state of mind. I stepped on the piece of paper.
I bent down to pick it up. It was a list of student’s names. At the top it said, targets. I didn’t want to believe that Gabe would want to harm people. This was Gabe after all, but my gut was screaming that Gabe could be capable of something sinister to injure our student body.
“Gabe, what is this?” I asked.
He snatched it out of my hand. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“What I see is a list of people you’re trying to hurt. Tell me I’m wrong.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Lane, it’s just a list. You’ve never made a list of people that have hurt you.”
I shook my head. “No.”
He smirked. “That’s right. People don’t even know who you are. I’m the prime target, but it’s because I actually fly on people’s radar. I’m not just a shadow in the corner.”
I ignored his words because he was being defensive. “I think we should tell someone.”
“It’s a list. It’s nothing you need to overreact about.”
“We should get you help,” I said.
I turned to grab the door because I didn’t trust him. Gabe has been everyone’s punching bag. Why wouldn’t he want to get revenge on them? He could say it’s all a fantasy, but it still didn’t mean it shouldn’t be addressed.
“Fine, but if we’re going to talk about things coming to the surface. Why don’t we talk about you being gay?”
I turned to look at him. “What?”
I saw his whole demeanor change. He wasn’t the Gabe that I used to spend late nights writing with. This monster had no heart, and he would stop at nothing to destroy his enemy. “You and Colby Tyler,” he said, pulling out his phone. He put his phone in front of me and it was a picture of us kissing. He pulled it back and looked at it. “I assumed he would have gotten back together with Jefferson Knight. I didn’t think you were his speed or even liked dick.”
“How did you take this?” It had been after a football game. It was months ago. We had snuck to his car for a simple kiss. “Why have you kept it all this long?”
He shrugged. “I was waiting for you to come out to us. I would have sent it as a nice gift, but I found another use for it. It’s kind of sad if you think about it.”
“How so?”
“You’re so scared of coming out, and you’re ruining every beautiful moment you two could share together.”
“You don’t know anything about our situation.”
He looked me in the eyes. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Lane. The reason you haven’t come out is because you’ll have to move out of the shadows. You’ll be in the spotlight like the rest of us. It’s why you and Colby keep it a secret.”
“Fuck you. You’re just jealous no one will ever love you,” I screamed.
He nodded. I could see that was a low blow. “You’re right. No one will, and that’s fine. I’m better than this fucking town, and you’re going to see.”
“By hurting people?” I asked.
“I’m not going to hurt people, Lane. Get that out of your head. There’s a difference between doing it and dreaming of it.”
I didn’t believe him. How could I? I saw that dark side of Gabe the moment I was ready to spill on what he was plotting, but he was right. I was a coward, and I didn’t want my relationship exposed to the world.
“Okay, I believe you.”
“You better, and if you tell anyone, then everyone’s going to find out who’s been in the closet all these years. Deal?”
“Deal.”
I wish nothing more than I had the strength to come out and stop him. The next day, he did make that fantasy a reality and ten people died, including the man that I was in love with. I laid awake at night wondering if he targeted Colby because of me.
I couldn’t write or think. I walked over to the bed and laid down. I felt the tears begin to fall. I turned my head, and Gabe was sitting there with a giant grin on his face.
I turned and grabbed my phone. I hit play on Your Design by Grace Mitchell. It was Colby and my favorite song. I felt the tears streaming down as she began to sing.
“You know it must be horrible that you’re still trapped in pain and can’t talk about it. You’re drowning in sorrow, but you’re still too scared to let anyone let you in.”
“Shut up,” I said, with a weak voice. I wanted him to stop talking.
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“You killed Colby. You could have saved him if you just were able to accept people noticing you.”
“Now, no one knows you’re in pain, because you still don’t want to let people in,” he said.
I stood up and turned to him. “Shut up!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I felt all the rage I felt toward him in that second. Gabe was no friend of mine because of our last conversation. If he was a true friend, he would have never used that against me.
He chuckled. “Lane finally putting himself on the map. Too bad it doesn’t change anything.”
I laid back on the bed. I grabbed the pillow and covered it over my mouth. I screamed again. I cried out everything I had, and once again, it was all behind closed doors. I was dealing with my pain alone, and no one was here to help heal this tattered heart of mine.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Cass
It seemed very odd that we were taking our senior pictures only a couple of weeks out from graduation. Our school had decided that they wanted it to be part of the graduation celebration. Other years, it was the month you started senior year, but it was a nice distraction from everything going on.
I had worn a red dress and I curled my hair. It had been the most glam I’ve ever been. It was adorable to watch Edgar get flustered while looking at me. I even saw Jarele stop mid-conversation when I passed him. It killed me that Jarele’s reaction meant more to me than Edgar’s. I knew Edgar was someone safe, but he couldn’t protect me like Jarele did.
“Cassidy Montgomery,” a woman had said.
I was grateful that she took me out of my downhill spiral that I was currently trying to work myself out of. I walked over and gave her all the information she needed. “You can call me Cass,” I said.
She smiled. “No problem. You can take a seat over on the stool,” she said.
I walked over and took a seat on the stool. I stood up straight like she had instructed. I smiled as she took the photos. I didn’t know why this room reminded me of something. It was on the other side of school. I didn’t really come this way unless I had been dropped off by my mother. I hadn’t been dropped off by my mother since….
I felt myself feeling like the room was getting smaller and smaller. I looked around, and I recognized every detail of this room. I began to be flooded with a sea of emotions. “Were those gunshots?” I asked Jarele.
“Just stay in here,” he said.
I could remember everyone panicking and starting to cry. I looked over in the corner. “Get in the corner. They won’t be able to see us here,” Jarele said. Pop, pop. We heard two more-gun shots close to where we were. We heard more people screaming.
“Jarele, what’s going on?” I asked.
He turned to me. “I love you so much.” He kissed me.
I shook the memories out of my mind. I stood up. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” I said.
“Is there something wrong?” the woman asked. “You’re crying.”
I touched my face and I realized there was moisture on my face. “I can’t be here,” I said. I stormed out of the room. No one made fun of me or even flinched. Everyone had their spot in the school that was hard for them. Gabby Waller had a full-blown meltdown in the cafeteria last week, when she couldn’t sit in her proper seat. She liked to sit in the back, but with her face looking at the entrance of the cafeteria and next to the exit door.
No one outside of this school can understand that it just hits you sometimes, and it killed me that it was happening to me right now. I wanted so much to just enjoy a moment of my senior year. I wanted to forget all about that shooting, but I’m reminded that it was forced into my DNA like a fucking syringe.
I pushed past the kids, and I leaned against the wall. I begin to let my feelings take over. “Jarele, Jarele, where are you going?” I asked, as he got up from the corner. It had been quiet for a couple of minutes, but it felt like hours.
“I’m going to see if we’re in the clear,” he said.
I grabbed his hand. “Jarele, please stay,” I said.
He grabbed my hand and forced my grip off of his. “It will only be a second. I promise. I’ll never leave you,” he said.
I looked at the floor and the tears falling. He should have taken his phone with him. I shouldn’t have looked at it. I thought it might have been his mother or mine. I wished I wasn’t curious why Angela Huron was texting him.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, Cass?” Zachary asked.
I looked up at her. “I couldn’t be in there. That’s where I was. Why didn’t they choose somewhere off campus to do these photos?” I asked.
She pulled me into a hug, and I began to cry into her arms. I finally felt safe again. I was in the arms of one of my best friends. “That’s why I refuse to go anywhere near the computer lab. I was just printing out an essay because our printer ran out of ink. I saw Gabe with his guns. I was hiding behind a computer. I saw him shoot Brent Under right in the chest.”
“Why did he do this?” I asked. “Why couldn’t he have just left us all alone?”
She rubbed my back, and I heard the small sniffles in her voice. “I honestly don’t know, and I wish so much we had a sign beforehand that he was going to do this.”
She held me tighter, and we began to cry together. People gave us our privacy, and no one asked questions. I knew damn well that this was one of the few times Zachary and I had been vulnerable together. It made us graduating in a few more weeks sweeter. I wanted to get the hell out of this school and never think about what Gabe did.
I wanted to stop being terrified every time the door to a school door opened thinking it was going to be another shooter. I wanted to be able to go to the movies and not look for the exit door just in case something happened. I wanted to feel safe again. I felt like it was this uncomfortable sheet of terror on my skin that no matter how much I scrubbed; it would never go away. And it made me even more terrified, because I didn’t think it would ever go away.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Ben
“What scares you?” Dr. Clarkson asked.
I looked at her. We had been sitting there for a couple of minutes in silence. I had requested a therapy session because I heard what happened to Cass. I had to make sure she was okay, but I also wanted to make sure that it didn’t happen to me.
“Why ask that?” I replied.
“You’re coming in here because you heard what happened to Cass,” she said. “She was having a panic attack that was caused by PTSD, which all of you have in some degree. Are you worried that it would happen to you?”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“I think it’s common for what you guys have been dealt with. You had a moment where you were stuck in a situation of life or death. Not many people can say they’ve ever been in that situation.”
“But I don’t want it to be so public,” I said. I didn’t want people staring at me like that.
“Is it because you don’t want people to see a different side of you? You don’t want to ruin your squeaky-clean image,” she said.
I chuckled. “My squeaky-clean image,” I said. I thought back to when I had my car accident the summer before. “I was at my grandparent’s house last summer. We were all enjoying ourselves, when my mother’s parents pulled me into a room. It was my parent’s and her parents,” I began to tell the story.
I didn’t know why my parents wanted to meet me privately. It was supposed to be a celebration that I was going into my senior year. It was August, and we were starting in a couple of weeks. I couldn’t wait to graduate and go off on my own. I let my mom and grandparents control me long enough.
My grandfather, who was a distinguished man. He was stall in nature, angry eyes, and had a head full of white hair. He seemed completely perfect minus a slight limp in his right leg. He never talks about where he got it from, and he would beat you down physically and verbally if you even ask about it.
He walked over to me and dropped an envelope in my lap. “He
re,” he said.
I picked it up and it was a package to Princeton. “What’s this?”
“Sweetie, we wanted to let you know that you’ll be going to Princeton next year,” my mother said.
“But I haven’t even started applying to colleges?” I had a list of colleges that I thought I might want to go to. I knew that I had to get approval from my family first, but Princeton wasn’t on the list.
“Exactly,” she said. “Now, you don’t have to worry about it. This family has a long list of alumni from Princeton.”
“And it will go well with your political career,” my grandfather said.
I looked at my dad who had been silent this whole time. “Political career?”
“We’ve been grooming you to be a politician. We’ve given you a little bit of freedom, but it’s your senior year of high school. We need to start fully making you ready for the next phase of your career. We’ve wanted you to build on your social abilities that you can take to college. We thought having you be charismatic will be perfect for you running for your fraternity presidency in college.”
I stood up. “Mom, I want nothing to do with politics.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” my grandfather said. “You are a Howard, and you will continue to give this family name a good reputation. You will go into politics. We have your whole life planned.” He walked over to me. “Besides, we know damn well you don’t have the motivation yourself to achieve anything on your own,” he said.
I knew I couldn’t argue with them. I turned to my dad. I thought maybe he could give me some kind of back up here. “Dad?”
He stood up. “I agree with them. Ben, this is your way of having a good life. They’ve already done all the work for you.”
“But keeping a good image for yourself,” my grandfather said.
I nodded. I knew there was nothing that I could do. “Fine,” I said. I walked toward the door.