“You took away this thing I cared about so much, this thing I wanted for myself. And I should be mad at you. I should hate you for doing it. But instead I’m just...” She stopped, reaching for words but only able to look down at their hands clasped together. God, what was she doing?
Marisa leaned in ever so slightly, her voice at a near whisper. Everyone in the foyer leaned in, too, hoping to catch Marisa’s reply, though they hadn’t caught a single word yet. “You’re what?”
It seemed as if all the conversations inside the building stopped. Maybe all the ones outside, too, the yelling parents, the reporters, the kids who’d been locked out instead of in. Even the rain seemed to lighten up a little.
Amira shook her head, unable to find the words. Instead, she ran.
* * *
Eli watched the rain come down around him. Over the past few days, he’d become quite good at noticing the subtle changes in the glass dome. The rain today felt different than normal, harder and steadier, especially for the time of day. The way the drops streaked and scurried down the glass gave everything a cinematic sheen, and he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what caused it.
Eli had watched so many movies in the last week—the computer that had been used for the marathon belonged to a teacher who’d been locked out, leaving Eli free to extend the marathon beyond his wildest dreams.
Except for breaks to do homework (brought up to him by bored teachers, eager to have something to grade), Eli hadn’t given it a rest, didn’t want to give it a rest. Until the internet shut off, of course. Now he sat and watched the rain and wondered about the film industry’s environmental practices until Jordi Marcos appeared before him.
* * *
Was this really the first time Omar stood directly in front of Peejay, in full view of that face of his? He remembered scanning the crowds at the gym for just a glance. Remembered all the times throughout the year when he watched in awe of Peejay’s charisma, his ease with himself. It was rather incredible, how you could think about someone all year, your feelings building like water in a tub, and then one day, right when they were about to spill over, there that person was.
Now here Peejay was, and Omar couldn’t bring himself to look. Was he supposed to look? Supposed to say something? All these days and nights in the gym talking about Peejay with Joy suddenly erased themselves from his mind, the conversations meaningless in Peejay’s presence. Lolo had told Omar about Hamish being in a coma, and he wondered if it was appropriate to say something to Peejay. To wish his brother well, or offer condolences, or what.
They stood just outside the door to the gymnasium, Peejay having led them there arbitrarily and stopping with just as little apparent reason. Omar heard someone dribbling a basketball inside. The rack from lock-in night had been left out this whole time, and at one point or another all the students inside save for those restrained or unable had come by to shoot around. The school’s average free throw percentage had risen three points.
“Thanks for stepping in,” Peejay said. “I’d like to say I could have taken care of him myself, but I didn’t see that punch coming at all.”
“Oh, sure,” Omar responded, feeling clumsy in his words, in his body. He didn’t know where his eyes should land.
Peejay was confused by Omar’s shyness, not sure whether to read it as embarrassment for having followed Peejay up the stairs or something else.
“You said you needed my help with something?”
Peejay bit his lip. “Yeah, I don’t know why I said that. I don’t. I just wanted you to follow me out. I’m an impulsive little weirdo, sorry.”
In the pause after he spoke, he felt the familiar tug of darkness in his mind wanting to coax him back to thoughts of Hamish, gone now. His mind wanted him back under his pashmina. Maybe, impossible as it seemed, Omar sensed this, because otherwise, why would he say, “I actually have something to show you.”
“Really?”
Omar looked at the gym doors, because Peejay’s face was too much, especially now that he’d set in motion what he had. “It’s not done yet,” he added, and thought about saying more, adding more qualifiers, but decided it’d be better just to open the door and