by Callie Hart
I sigh, hiking my backpack up on my shoulder. “Ahh, y’know. Drunken debauchery. Half a bottle of tequila. Running around naked, howling at the moon. The usual.” It’s a low blow, using the truth to throw him off guard. I don’t’ feel good about it, but it’s better than an outright lie.
“And the car?”
“Hmm?”
“You rolled up in an Uber. The Nova crap out on you?”
“Yeah…it’s been acting up for days. I left it at Alex’s. He says he’s gonna take a look at it for me in the morning.”
“Well, I guess having a boyfriend who knows his way around an engine has its perks. Tell him to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Your Mom and I want to get to him know him a little better.”
“Dad—”
“How about you drag the guy over here tomorrow night without a fuss, and I won’t make a stink about the fact that I can smell all that booze on you from fifteen feet away, hmm?”
I chew the inside of my cheek, knowing defeat when I see it. “Well played, sir. Well played.”
He turns back to his computer, sliding his glasses back on. “Don't wake your brother up on your way to bed,” he says in a sing-song voice. “Otherwise I'll be forced to rethink my very forgiving mood.”
I laugh softly under my breath. “Night, Dad.”
31
SILVER
I wake up to a throbbing, thumping drum beat, pounding somewhere right behind my head. I’m gonna fucking kill my brother. Since when did he start listening to house music? And what the fuck time is it? The kid needs to learn some goddamn manners. Cracking my eyes open, I find my watch on the nightstand and peer blearily at Micky, blinking rapidly when I see that it’s nearly seven fifteen.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” I am so screwed. Like, definitely-going-to-be-late-for-first-period-if-I-don’t-fucking-move! screwed. My bedroom pitches as I sit bolt upright, and the thumping gets even louder, pulsing through my extremities and rattling against the inside of my skull. I realize, misery sinking in, that there is no music, and the pounding is actually my own heartbeat, hammering at my temples.
Just…fucking…awesome.
I haven’t had a hangover in a long time. The effects of all the tequila I drank yesterday might have worn off by the time I sank into bed last night, but was I smart enough to chug a liter of water before I fell asleep? Nope. I was not. I’m so dehydrated, my tongue feels like sandpaper as I peel it from the roof of my mouth.
“I’m coming in, Sil,” my mother calls from the other side of my bedroom door.
“No! Mom, I’m not dre—”
She enters before I can complete the protest. She's fully dressed, way smarter than usual in a full suit and salmon pink silk shirt. Her hair's tied back into an intricate braid, and her makeup is on point. Generally, at this time of morning, she's still rushing around in her pajamas, trying to locate her keys, or a report, or one of her shoes.
She’s holding a tumbler in her hand with what looks like a raw egg inside it. She crosses my room, shoving the glass in my face, and says, “Down the hatch.”
“Thanks. I’m good.”
“Don’t be a baby. Just pinch your nose and swallow it in one. It’ll make you feel better.”
“Or make me hurl,” I counter.
“Either way, you’ll feel better.”
I take the glass, hoping she’ll leave, but she doesn’t. “Fine. Have it your way.” I nearly wretch when I force the raw egg down the back of my throat, gagging on the texture. She takes the glass from me, folding her arms across her chest.
“You’re only gonna get so many hall passes, y’know. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the guy in the boxer shorts at the cabin.”
“You mean the guy who carried you inside, covered in mud and soaked from the rain, because you were having a nervous breakdown? I haven’t forgotten about him either. Dad wants him to come for dinner tonight.”
Mom’s expression falters. She came in here with the tough parent act, ready to try and reassert her position of power over me, but now she’s back to Worried Mom Keeping Secrets again. “That might not be a good idea,” she mutters.
“Tell me about it. Don’t worry. He won’t mention the fact that the two of you have met before.”
“Silver, this can’t go on. There has to be some sort of—”
I don’t want to hear it. Not from her. Not this morning. I hold a hand up, cutting her off. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I have an interview at nine. I didn’t think it’d be appropriate to keep working at the firm after…”
You had an affair and slept with your boss? I glower at her, daring her to try and play it down. She clears her throat uncomfortably.
“Anyway, I gave my notice yesterday. I applied for an auditing position at the mayor’s office. If I get the position, it’ll be a big step up. Better all ’round. More money. More time off.” She smiles hopefully, rolling the empty glass between her hands—I think she’s waiting for me to say something positive.
“Well congrats, Mom. Failing upwards. Great job. I suppose I should be grateful Mayor Reid’s a woman, right? At least I won’t have to worry about you fucking her.”
The sound of the slap registers in my ears before I feel the sting of it against my cheek. Mom’s face is a picture of rage. Her expression quickly transforms into one of shock, though. She covers her mouth, taking a step away from my bed. “I’m sorry, Silver. Shit, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No. You shouldn’t.”
“Let me grab some ice—”
“Why, so you can avoid having to explain the huge red welt on my face to Dad? Don’t bother. I’m gonna be late for school.” I storm into my bathroom, sliding the lock closed behind me, quickly turning the shower on. Mom calls my name through the door, but I don’t answer her. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I clasp my hand to my cheek, letting out a shuddering breath. There’s no stopping the tears. I sob silently, staring at myself in the mirror, my heart breaking in two as I try and figure out who I hate more this morning: My mom, for hitting me, or myself, for being such a spoiled little bitch.
“Thanks for dropping the car off again. And picking me up. And for listening to me rant,” I groan. Alex isn’t even slightly hungover—a fact that I’m incredibly jealous of, since I still feel like I’m going to throw my guts up any moment.
We're already at my locker, having made it successfully into school and through A.P. physics without encountering Kacey, Jake, or any of their minions. The bell's about to ring for second period any moment. “You're welcome,” Alex says, leaning against the locker next to mine as I rummage around for my English textbook. “And I'm happy to listen to you rant. Families are tough. Moms are tough.”
“You think I should go easier on her, don’t you?”
He thinks about this. “No. She betrayed you and Max too, when she cheated on your dad. She probably deserves a rough week or two. But you think you should go easier on her, don't you?”
How? How the hell can he read my mind like that? I shove my textbook into my bag, sighing heavily as I slam my locker door closed. “I really hurt her this morning. I saw it on her face. And I wanted to hurt her so fucking bad, but…”
“But she’s your mom, and you love her,” Alex finishes. “It’s okay to forgive her, y’know. The world won’t stop turning.”
“But it's not up to me to forgive her. That's Dad's job. But he can't, he's never even gonna get that opportunity, because I told Mom to keep her mouth shut. And now the air inside the house feels so fucking toxic, I can't even breathe in there, and it just seems like everything going to explode.”
CRACK!
On my last word, a loud, sharp explosion sounds at the other end of the hall, and my heart fucking stops.
I frown at Alex. “What the fuck?”
I know what that loud bang sounded like, but there’s no way…
Not here. Not at Raleigh.
A chorus of screams go up outside the entrance to the cafe
Alex grabs hold of me by the top of my arm. His eyes are huge in his face. He’s craning over the top of the students crowding in the hall, trying to see what’s happening. That’s when the second loud crack rips through the air…and all hell breaks loose.
“Shooter,” Alex hisses between bared teeth. “There’s a fucking shooter.”
Shooter?
“Fuck. Come on.” He yanks me by the arm, pulling me along the line of lockers, heading toward the exit. My legs follow along automatically, but my body’s twisted. I’m trying to face the other way, trying to get a clear image of what’s going on behind us. What the hell is he talking about? Alex said shooter, but the word makes no sense. Even the panic on my classmate’s faces doesn’t make any sense, as they begin shoving down the hallway, shouting, dropping books and bags in their attempts to flee for the double doors that lead out toward the parking lot.
“Alex?”
God, I’m…my head is spinning. The edges of my vision are blurring, smudging the posters on the walls and the faces of the other students together in a streak of too-bright color.
Alex doesn’t look back. His fingers are gouging into my arm, his nails digging into my skin—the bone feels like it’s going to shatter as he urges me along with him, but I don’t want him to let go. I need to stay with him. Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. God, don’t fucking leave me…
CRACK! CRACK!
Two shots, this time. The press of bodies heading for the door becomes suffocating as everyone rushes forward, trampling on those who have fallen, the smell of fear and acerbic gun powder thick in the air.
“They’re locked. The doors are locked!” The shout goes up at the front of the crowd. A kid I recognize from the chess team, Gareth Foster, is frantically pulling on the doors, trying to force them open, but they aren’t even budging.
Alex stops dead, his mission for the doors abandoned. Turning to me, his eyes flash cold as he takes hold of me by the chin and speaks in a calm, even tone. “The music rooms, Silver. What's the quickest route to the music rooms?”
“The…music rooms?”
“Concentrate, Argento. Think. How can we get there without having to push through all this?”
“Oh my god! Korra! Korra’s been shot!” Terrified wails go up in the hallway, deafening, and tear-streaked kids blunder, fumbling to get the classroom doors open.
I watch, stunned, as Laughlin Moss, one of Raleigh’s best linebackers, slams a girl out of the way, knocking her to the floor, as he bulldozes his way into Mr. Biltmore’s history classroom.
“Silver. Silver!” Alex’s hands are on my shoulders. He shakes me roughly. “Silver, I know this is really fucked up, but I need you to listen to me right now. How do we get to the music rooms from here? Is there a way, other than the main corridor?”
“Uh…yeah. Uh, the back stairs. Through the science block. You can go through that way.”
“All right. Good girl.” He presses a hard kiss against my forehead, hugging me to him fiercely. “Go. Go up to the music rooms and lock yourself in the sound booth, you hear me? You'll be safe there until the police get here.”
Fear closes around my heart, squeezing too tight. “What? Alex, no. I’m not leaving you. I’m staying with you.”
“I need to try and find the guy with the gun.”
The school’s P.A. system buzzes, a high-pitched tone shrieking from the speakers.
“ATTENTION. SCHOOL LOCKDOWN IN FULL AFFECT. ALL FACULTY MEMBERS, CODE ORANGE. I REPEAT, CODE ORANGE. ALL STUDENTS, REMAIN IN CLASSROOMS AND BAR ALL DOORS. DO NOT COME OUT UNTIL AUTHORIZED BY POLICE OR SCHOOL OFFICIALS.”
Oh my god. This is happening. This is really fucking happening.
Alex braces my head in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. “Okay, okay. Stay calm. It’s okay. Shhh, I’m coming with you. I’ll come with you. Go. Let’s go.”
The hallway's half-emptied already. At the far end of the hall, I see a body laid out on the ground, pens scattered everywhere, and the white floor is stained with stark, bright red streaks of blood.
Alex takes me by the hand again. He drags me behind him, heading for the stairway up toward the science block. Which means we’re actually heading toward the body…
“Alex, no. No, no, not that way.” I try to pull my hand free, but his grip tightens.
“Keep down. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. Stay close. Hurry, hurry, hurry.”
I duck down, sticking close to his heels, following his instructions. I’ve thought about what I’d do in situations like this. We’ve prepped. Drilled. Practiced.
I thought I’d be calm.
I thought I’d be clear-headed.
I thought I’d be okay.
I thought wrong.
CRACK!
Alex shoves me to the ground. I can feel him over me, his body on top of mine, his chest up against my back. His ragged breathing is so loud in my ear.
“Sarah! Oh my god. Sarah. Sarah, no, no, no!” The petrified shrieking cuts me down to the bone. I know the voice… “Oh, shit. Shit, please! Don’t fucking…just…”
CRACK!
“We need to move,” Alex pants. “I need you to run, Silver. I need you to run toward that stairwell, up, up, up and through the science block. Do not stop. Do not look back. I’ll be right behind you. Can you do that for me?”
“I don’t know!”
“You can, Silver. I know you can. You’re brave, and you’re fucking fast. Come on. We have to get out of here, right now.”
I scrunch my eyes closed, trying to grab hold on the terror lashing around in the pit of my stomach. It takes every scrap of willpower I possess, but I manage to calm myself. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
I nod beneath him.
“All right. One…two…THREE!” Alex has me by the back of my shirt. He lifts me up off the floor and onto my feet, and then his palm is against my back, shoving me forward so quickly I can barely get my legs to move fast enough. I hurtle toward the stairwell, jumping over two girls who are hunkered down, covering their heads with their backpacks.
“Up! Let’s go, let’s go!” Alex hisses. His hand is gone from my back. He told me not to stop. He told me not to hesitate, but I do…
Then he’s right behind me, the girls, Alicia and Sophia, being herded along by his side, their faces stained with eyeliner.
“RUN!” Alex’s roar echoes down the hallway. A strangled scream comes right after, cut off by the loud, terrible report of another gunshot.
My lungs are burning. My legs are burning. I take the stairs three at a time, tripping, struggling to stay on my feet. There are footsteps behind me, screaming and shouting—
I take a turn in the stairwell, surging up the second flight of stairs.
“He’s coming. He’s fucking coming!” Alicia yells.
“Faster, Silver. Go faster!” Alex hollers.
There’s a skidding, a thud, but I keep going forward, keep trying to pull air into my lungs. The door to the first science lab crashes against the wall as I hurl myself through it. The lab is empty. Deserted. I run for the interconnecting door, flying through that, into the next lab and then through the next again.
My backpack snags on something. I rip it from my shoulders, dropping it, still running…
Out of the last science lab, I nearly fall down the stairs that lead toward the music rooms. Oh god, where’s Max? Where the fuck is my brother? Through the chaos whipping through my head, for a second I don’t even have the sense to realize that Max is at his school. He’s not here. He’s not here…
Everything is noise, and color, and panic.
Blood on my tongue.
My pulse racing in my ears.
I’m going to fucking throw up…
“Left! Left, Silver! Through the door!” Alex shoulders the music room door open, grabbing me and yanking me after him. Alicia and Sophia cling to each other as we race for the sound booth. A second later, Alex has that door open, and he's pushing us all inside.
His fingers dig painfully into my shoulders again. His face is ashen. “Close it after yourself. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone, you hear me? I don’t care who it is. You lock that fucking door, and you do not open it.”
“ALEX, NO!”
It's too late. He's ripped himself free, and he's elbowed me inside. The door slams closed, the sound ringing in my ears like yet another gunshot. “Lock it, Silver! Do it! Right fucking now!”
I don’t want to. I want him inside the booth, next to me, holding me in his arms, but I’m too numb. I do what he told me to. I lock the door.
“Good girl. Good girl,” Alex pants. “Stay inside. Stay safe. I’ll be back.”
32
ALEX
Raleigh’s an old school. Its systems are outdated. There should be automatic locks on all of the classroom doors, preventing them from opening before the code has been cleared and the all-safe has been announced, but they don’t. There are no fucking safety measures in place, which means the place is wide fucking open right now.
I stave off the immediate urge to go back, grab Silver, smash a window and get the fuck out of here. I saw the guy with the gun in the main hallway, though. When I covered Silver with my body, shielding her from the horror of what was happening ten feet away, I saw the guy, standing there with a bleak look on his face and the array of weapons he had strapped to his body. He wasn’t planning on emptying one clip and then calling it a day. No, he came to school this morning planning on taking down as many people as possible, and he came armed to do so. There would have been no sneaking into a classroom and bolting out of one of the windows. He would have killed us first.
A rattle of gunshots in the main hall confirms this; the shots come from a semi-automatic. A cold wash of dread settles over my limbs as I creep down the stairs from the music rooms, heading back toward the hallway. I nearly have a fucking heart attack when someone bursts around the crashes right into me.
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