and gave way to a sympathetic frown. Surely she wasn’t capable of feeling pity. But then maybe she understood better than anyone what Kyle was capable of. Maybe this was her chance to help, her chance to make things right for everything she’d let happen. And maybe all this time I’d misjudged her.
A crooked grin spread across her face as she brought her phone to her ear.
Oh no. I raised my hands. “No. Please don’t…”
Her lips barely moved. “He’s outside the music room.” She placed her phone in her pink handbag, and her grin bled away. My throat tightened like I was breathing through a narrow straw.
I scanned the hall behind me and then ahead, past Brittany and Aisha to the stairwell. Like two synchronized robots, they folded their arms and pursed their lips. I was stuck between Kyle and Bundy and the Bitch Clique’s Crazy Department.
The uninitiated might think high school girls aren’t as rough as guys, but girls have their own twisted brutality. I’d never hurt a girl, but luckily for me these two pink-lipstick harpies didn’t count. That stairwell was my leave pass to Chicago and I wasn’t about to let them get in my way. I took aim at the narrow gap between them and ran like a madman. As I closed in, they darted back into the stairwell and swung the door shut. A floor bolt scraped, and I slammed into the door and ricocheted off. Muffled laughter erupted from the other side.
A searing pain took hold of my shoulder as I scanned the hall. The only other exit was the stairwell back at the science lab.
As if on cue, a noise came from the opposite end of the hall. A soft rumble at first, and then sharpening into a frantic clomping of shoes, growing louder as two enormous figures emerged from around the corner. I raced back to the music room. Locked. That had to be karma, or the school tightening security after the break in. With nowhere else to go, I was a deer in a trap, caught and waiting for the hunter to finish the job.
Kyle and Bundy raised their fists as they ran at me. My chest tightened, my heart raced, and my legs weakened. And even still, some sick part of me wanted it to happen, wanted it to just be over, tired of being scared.
Kyle’s fist came at my face, and I raised my arms and ducked. The first sign I’d messed up was the sharp pain of Kyle’s skull-rings embedding into my temple and throwing my head back. I buckled over and agony set in.
Bundy rose over me, shading the ceiling light. Before I could move, hands the size of shovels gripped my shoulders and launched me at the wall, slamming my back against the bricks and forcing the air from my lungs. I staggered, clutching at the wall and gasping for air. A blur came at me from the side and struck my kidneys with sickening force. My knees buckled and I collapsed to the floor, feeling like I was close to vomiting blood.
The stairwell door scraped open. I squinted and blinked several times, trying to focus. Brittany peered through and gave me a hot-pink lipstick smirk.
I climbed to my knees and crawled along the wall, and the faint sound of movement came from behind me. Too aching and exhausted to move, I fell against the wall and raised my hands.
A hand gripped my hair and wrenched my head back, sending a sharp pain through my scalp. Bundy gazed vacantly down at me, no anger in his eyes, just mechanically doing what needed to be done. I grabbed his wrist with both hands to take the pressure off my scalp, and he dragged me across the floor.
Two sharp claps echoed from the end of the hall. “Enough!” Principal Grendelmeier marched toward us, his hooded gray eyes narrowing. “Get to class.” He unbuttoned the jacket of his tweed suit, and two assistant principals, Mr. Gambetta and Ms. Edmonds, walked up beside him.
The floor stopped dragging beneath me, and the death grip on my scalp tightened. I pried at his fingers, but he had more strength in each finger than I had left in my entire body. If Grendelmeier wanted to play hero, he’d need to hurry the hell up.
Kyle crouched next to me and nudged his skull-ringed fist against my cheek. “We’ll be outside waiting for you.”
Behind him, Grendelmeier rumpled his chin, creating an extra fold in his fleshy jowl. “Do I have to call the police?”
Breathing loudly through my nose, I was almost paralyzed by a pain that felt like my scalp was on fire. Part of me still wished I got on the bus to Chicago, but part of me didn’t. The beatings in the art room were just the start. Kyle was nothing if not thorough and brutal in his revenge. From now on, he’d be targeting everyone in the USSC. What happened in the art room was my fault, but I wasn’t going to let him hurt another person if I could help it. I shook my head and glared at him. “The park on West Thirteenth after school. Meet me there – away from them.” I tipped my head in Grendelmeier’s direction.
Kyle searched my eyes, and when he found what he was looking for, he grinned and nodded. He stood and backed away, slipping his arm around Brittany’s waist as he disappeared into the stairwell. Bundy shoved my head hard and released his grip. Together, he and Aisha walked into the stairwell, the sound of their shoes on the concrete growing fainter as they made their way down the stairs. I collapsed against the wall and pressed my hand to my aching head.
So much for the United Students Security Council.
24. The Worst That Could Happen
The school library was a dim world of stained carpet, black scribble graffiti, and piled-up broken chairs. I walked through the door, and the heating system groaned as it pumped musty air onto me. Further inside, the room was eerily quiet, so quiet the librarian would hear my heart pounding at break-neck speed if she were any closer.
A framed copy of all seven pages of Cannondale’s Anti-Bullying Policy hung on the wall near the library desk. In 2011, a law was created to make all Michigan schools have an anti-bullying policy. Imagine the chaos if that policy wasn’t around to stop thugs like Kyle.
In the corner, Sparky Donovan lay starfished on a beanbag between two bookshelves. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been that relaxed. A group of students sat on the floor near him. Behind them, Gordie handed a roll of toilet paper to Benny Krumbert, who used it to soak blood from his nose. Next to him, Dylan Varghese sat slumped holding a root beer bottle to his eye. Cameron Heyward leaned against the wall with a split lip and blood-smeared chin, and the skin around his left eye reddened. Phuong Le lay curled up on the floor with his eyes closed. I walked over.
Gordie lifted his gaze. “Your face… what happened?”
“Where’s Allie and Raj?”
“They took the others to the nurse’s office.”
“What others?”
“Taye Anderson has a broken jaw, and Sean Longmire has concussion. They called an ambulance.”
It was worse than I figured, but that made what I was planning carry more weight. I put my hand to my aching head.
“Think about it,” Gordie said. “Can you imagine what Kyle and Bundy are going to do to us?” He checked his phone. “Let’s get to the bus station.”
“You go. Take Raj with you.”
“What… aren’t you coming?”
Next to him, Benny tugged at his shoelace and wiped a tear from his eye. High school wasn’t working out for him, not by a long shot. No matter who he sided with, he always ended up losing.
“Benny?” I asked. His eyes widened, like he thought I was about to hit him. “Can you do me a favor? I’m going to meet Kyle at the park on West Thirteenth after school. I need you to tell everyone – tell them Chris is going to take on Kyle and Bundy.”
Gordie climbed to his feet and grabbed his crutches. “Are you… What do you think…? Do you have a death wish? We need to get out of here!”
I put my hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Can you do that for me?”
Benny pulled the blood-soaked toilet paper from his face and nodded, a small piece stuck to his nose. It seemed like no matter what he did, a small piece always stuck. He heaved himself to his feet and hauled his oversized bag onto his back. “Leave it to me, Chris. I’ll tell them. I’ll tell everyone.” He limped toward the library exit, wincing with each step,
and looked back at me. “I’m sorry, what I did.” His head hung down. “Really, I am.”
I didn’t doubt it.
Gordie stared at me like I was a walking car wreck. “What are you doing?”
“Just go to the bus station with Raj. It’s not safe here.”
25. Waiting for Darkness
The loud buzz of the school bell shook me out of my thoughts. After the shitshow this morning, I’d slumped into a beanbag in a dark corner of the library and hadn’t moved since. Three hours later and the beanbag had almost swallowed me whole. Voices and a rumble of footsteps filled the hall outside. The clock on the wall was at 3:15 p.m.
I didn’t know exactly what I’d be walking into at the park on West Thirteenth, but it wouldn’t be good. I rolled onto my feet and staggered to the door, my throat so dry I could barely swallow, my head swimming, and white spots dancing in my eyes.
Out in the hall, hundreds of students stampeded toward the front door, and a hand slapped my back. “Way to go, Maddox. You have big cajones. I can’t wait to see this.” Carlos Alvarado grinned at me as he moved off with the crowd. Benny hadn’t messed about.
I joined the crush of bodies moving through the hall, and stepped out into the schoolyard, the icy wind stinging my face and burning my lungs. The line of students led down the concrete path, snaking between two empty buses, and continued in the direction of West Thirteenth.
My stomach