her face pinched with concern. I look back at her, dressed in her yellow suit jacket, BLM t-shirt, and black pencil skirt, still colorful, still alive.
“Nah, I’m good,” I say. The words sound normal enough, but to my ears, they ring with a hollowness that reminds me of dry bones and roadkill. I turn and head back into the classroom, taking my seat and pretending like I don’t notice everyone staring at me.
We never went over this scenario, and I never asked, because I didn’t think it could happen. I didn’t think. I did. Not. Think.
During lunch, I check my phone, but there’s nothing from the boys. Likely, they used their one phone call to lawyer up. Bet they already have one on retainer. Chewing my lower lip, I lean back on the bench in the cafeteria, ignoring the gossip and acting like I don’t have a care in the world. Yeah, we knew this was going to happen. No big thing. Got it handled.
Victor told me to finish class. I see the wisdom in that. I need to stay here, surrounded by the Havoc crew, under the eyes of the administrators. When I leave, I’m going to have to be very careful that the Thing or the Charter Crew don’t come after me.
By the time sixth period rolls around, I’m soaked in sweat and jittery as I check my phone, waiting for the bell to ring so I can get the hell out of there. First, I’m going to find someone with a somber face and ask to see their mask. Then I’m going to inform them that they’re my escort back to Aaron’s.
Hopefully they have a car. If not, I’ll walk back to my mom’s place, dig up the cash from the backyard and get a taxi.
Get the girls.
Find out how to summon Jennifer Lowell to babysit.
And then, I’ll start making phone calls. I need to figure out where the boys are being held, if they have lawyers yet, what the charges are against them exactly.
It’s going to be a long night.
Also, I’m probably not getting married tomorrow, now am I? Disappointment slithers through me, but I push it aside. Keeping the boys safe and out of prison is my only priority right now.
With only thirty minutes left in class, I decide I’m going to bail. I’ve played along all damn day, and I’m over it. Just as I stand up, the door opens, and a student assistant hands me a pass to summon me to Ms. Keating’s office.
I strongly debate taking off anyway, but then I remember her face. She was truly upset by the situation; she might even be privy to information that I’d struggle to get anywhere else.
Tucking the note into the pocket of my leather jacket, I head down the hall, around the corner and past the dark zone where I beat Kali, and then I slip into the vice principal’s office.
Ms. Keating smiles at me, but it’s a tight smile. I don’t think anything of it, seeing as five of her students were dragged away in handcuffs today.
Stepping forward, I grab the back of one of the chairs in front of her desk, intending to slip into it. I’m distracted by the door opening behind me, and my eyes flick back to see my stepfather, dressed in his uniform and smiling like a reptile.
No.
“Hello Bernadette,” he says, blocking me from the door with his body, hand resting casually on his belt, just a few inches from his gun. Ms. Keating doesn’t look at him with any sort of fondness either, like maybe she can sense how evil he is beneath his average Joe exterior.
“What is he doing here?” I ask her, recognizing that I have at least one ally in this room. My eyes find the locked windows behind Ms. Keating’s desk, and I curse myself for ruining her trust enough that it’s actually handicapping me now. Talk about karma.
“Bernie, sweetie,” Neil says, making my skin crawl as his eyes undress me right there in the VP’s office. He doesn’t care who’s watching because he knows he can get away with it regardless. I hate him. I hate him. I fucking hate him. “You’re not exempt from this little raid today. Actually, the only reason you weren’t dragged out and embarrassed in front of your peers is because I stepped in. I do have to take you to the station though.” He pulls a pair of metal cuffs off of his belt, and