be fun to see him so frazzled if I weren’t so distraught about his potentially impending death.
“In here,” I say, waving him over, and after a few seconds of deliberation, he follows.
“If you lock me in here just so you can give the valedictorian speech, please tell everyone I died exactly as I lived—”
“A giant pain in the ass? Got it.”
He disappears into darkness, and I shut the door behind him only a few seconds before Savannah comes barreling down the alley. Tourists clutch their belongings and jump out of her way.
“Did you see him?” she asks, barely breaking a sweat. “Neil?”
I point down the alley. “He ran right by.”
She flashes me a smile that I return easily, though my heart is banging against my rib cage. It doesn’t slow down until she’s out of sight.
I wait another minute before opening the door. “Come on,” I tell McNair, and he follows without protest.
We race out of the alley together, away from the tourists and the gum and the ghosts.
Name of person(s) involved in incident: Rowan Roth, Neil McNair
Description of incident: Made Roth and McNair chemistry partners at beginning of year to encourage them to more peacefully work together. Students immediately asked for new partners, informed them assignments were final. After a few arguments early in the school year, had hoped they’d gotten it out of their systems. Was wrong. During experiment on exothermic reactions, their lab station burst into flames. Immediately grabbed extinguisher to put it out. Students could not pinpoint what went wrong in experiment, each intent on blaming the other.
Illness or injury involved: No
How was incident handled: Students sent to principal’s office, said they were happy to serve detention as long as incident wouldn’t go on their permanent records. Incident appears to have been an accident, and as students are first-time offenders and top ranked in their grade, no further disciplinary action recommended. Roth and McNair will be assigned new partners.
Signed:
Principal Karen Meadows, M.Ed.
2:02 p.m.
WE END UP in the market’s basement, in a shop I can only describe as a punk-rock five-and-dime. Orange Dracula sells all kinds of retro goth novelties, from buttons and patches to vampire incense and shrunken heads. They hold live tarot card readings, and a sign in the window reads YES, WE SELL GUM. As a kid, I thought it was the coolest place in the world. Seattle has no shortage of kitschy weird shit, and this is among the kitschiest and weirdest.
“You saved my life.” McNair says it almost with a question mark at the end, like he’s not convinced it actually happened. Frankly, I’m surprised too.
I turn down an aisle of magnets made from old pulp paperbacks with titles like Half Past Danger and Sin Street, most of them with half-nude women on the cover. We figured we’d be safe from Savannah in here, since she’d likely assume McNair fled Pike Place.
“It’s not fun for me if you’re eliminated this early,” I say, which is the semi-truth.
He’s acting fidgety, jamming his hands into his pockets, then immediately drawing them back out. I’m not sure if it’s the near-death experience or if he’s just a fidgety guy and I’ve never noticed.
“Ah. Now everything makes sense.” McNair flips through an assortment of off-color postcards. An animatronic witch cackles at us, and a few giggling preteens pile into the shop’s photo booth, the one that uses real film, not digital.
His back is to me, and without my permission, my gaze maps the terrain of his shoulders, the way they curve and slope before dipping into his arm muscles. It’s a nice pair of shoulders, I decide. A shame they’re wasted on someone like him.
“And let’s be real,” I say to his shoulder blades, “who else stands a chance against us?”
He turns around, shifting the straps of his backpack, drawing my attention to the flex of his biceps. He’s been hiding these muscles for at least a year and a half, and they’re more distracting than they have any right to be. I’ve got to figure out a casual way to ask about his exercise routine. Surely, if I solve this mystery, then I’ll stop staring.
“Accurate,” he says.
Then both our phones buzz at the same time.
HELLO, SENIOR WOLF PACK
WE HOPE YOU’RE HAVING FUN
YOU HAVE 20 MINUTES
TO GET TO SAFE ZONE ONE
An attachment links to a map of Hilltop Bowl, a bowling alley in Capitol