The Rebel of Raleigh High (Raleigh Rebels #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,128

The next second, he’s still again. Lifeless.

“No good,” she says, her fingers pressed against the side of his throat. “Again. Charging to three hundred. Clear.”

I cover my mouth with my hands, biting down on my lip so hard that the metallic, sharp taste of blood coats my tongue. Alex’s body jolts again, then slumps back down to the ground.

“Anything?” the first EMT asks.

The woman operating the defibrillator rechecks Alex's throat for a pulse…then shakes her head.

“Nope. Nothing. Flatline. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

…

Dorme, Passerotto. That’s right, mi amore. Shhh. Rest. It time to go to sleep…

36

SILVER

I’ve never looked good in black.

Even before, when I used to hang out with Kacey, and it was all she ever wanted us to wear, it used to wash me out too much. I'm too pale as I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, fiddling with the high-necked collar of the dress Mom picked out for me. We called a truce after the shooting. With so many announcements and funerals, so many damaged parents mourning dead children, it felt wrong to be angry with her over Dan. There'll come a time at some point in the future when she's going to have to tell Dad what happened—I know that now. It was wrong of me to try and force her into keeping it a secret—but for the time being, we're standing united as a family while Raleigh grieves.

In the mirror, I see her standing in the doorway to my bedroom. She’s already dressed in her funeral clothes, and there are dark, bruised shadows under her eyes. “You haven’t eaten anything,” she says.

“Can you blame me? I’m not really feeling hungry this morning.”

She smiles sadly, her mouth pulling into a tight line. “I know, honey. I just thought I’d try. Your dad and Max are already waiting downstairs.”

“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She leaves, and I tug at the collar again, this time trying to loosen it. It’s too tight. Too restrictive. I can’t fucking breathe. I give up eventually. No matter how much I pull and tug at the damn thing, I’m never going to feel comfortable in it.

We’re silent in the van on the way over to the cemetery; it was decided that it’d be better if there was no actual church service, since no one in town was likely to come.

The ground's covered in snow, the world too white and bright, after the first really heavy flurries of winter rolled in late last night. Max is somber next to me on the back seat, his face drawn. He looks wrong in the suit Dad took him to get fitted for—like he's a little adult now, old enough to handle something like this, when he most definitely is not. As Dad pulls into the lot and parks up, I take Max's hand and give it a squeeze. “You want to wait here in the car?” I whisper. “It's okay. You don't have to come. No one's gonna think badly of you.”

He grimaces, looking down at his polished shoes. “I don’t wanna be rude, though.”

God, I just want to hug him so hard. I want to hold him so tight and protect him from this kind of shit. This kind of violence was never supposed to rear its ugly head in a town like Raleigh. Max should have been sheltered from this kind of horror. “Honestly. It’s okay, Bud,” Dad says, reaching into the back and giving him a squeeze on the knee. “Wait here. It’s no big deal. The service won’t be long. Take a nap or something, kiddo.”

At any other time, this would be a strange suggestion to make, but in the ten days since Leon shot up Raleigh High, no one’s been sleeping very much, Max included. He’s been getting most of his rest in during daylight hours, when his nightmares seem to leave him alone for the most part.

I walk between Mom and Dad along the pathway that’s been cleared in the snow toward the gravesite with my heart in my throat.

Jesus, I can’t do this. It’s too fucking hard. I can’t take another moment, feeling so torn open and raw inside. I’ve cried so much, it’s a miracle my tear ducts even work anymore. My legs threaten to give out as we turn a corner and I see the priest standing there over the open grave. I want to turn back. I want to go and sit this out with Max in the back of the car,