The other students flow past us, oblivious to everything except their phones. End of the school day means it’s time to check out all the important things they missed, like what color shoes Kim Kardashian has on today or whose hamster is trending on TikTok.
The undulations beneath my feet subside, and I start walking in the other direction.
“Where are you going?” River yells.
“To get the principal.”
“I was just in his office. It’s empty! They’re all out on the field doing a run-through for tomorrow night.” River stomps her foot. “Huff! Come on!”
I stop and look over my shoulder at River’s flushed, sweaty face. I’ve never seen her this worried. But they won’t really hurt Joy, will they? I mean, yeah, Manda and her lame bitch-posse always say shit to Joy, but they wouldn’t risk their perfect manicures to fight anyone.
“Fine. You stand there with your dick in your hand. I’m going to help her.” River turns and runs toward the gym.
I stay put with my Converse stuck to the concrete. The thing is, I don’t know how to fight, and I hate confrontation. It’s why I haven’t eaten lunch in over nine months. Conner and his friends always ruined it. Sometimes my sandwich ended up smashed in my face. Other times, they wiped their asses with the bread or hocked loogies in my lunch bag. After a few weeks, I just stopped trying. The lunch went into the trash before first period. Probably why I’m so skinny.
I watch River disappear, weaving against the horde of students heading for the front parking lot. The seniors are all going to the football field for the graduation dry run.
I bet Joy’s there right now, and this is all just another one of Manda’s stupid mind games. They’ve been all over me and Joy since Kyle announced he’d be running against Manda’s mom.
But what if River is right? What if I should be worried? I groan and slide my phone from my pocket to send Joy a text.
Me: Hey, Riv says Manda wants to mess with you. All ok?
No reply. I text again.
Me: U okay? 911!
It’s not like her to ignore one of my 911 texts.
I start walking in the direction of the gym. Something doesn’t feel right. My heart is beating so fast I think it might burst from my chest.
I turn the corner and see teachers sprinting toward the entrance to the gym. Then comes Principal Adams in his maroon polo.
My beating heart urges me on even though my stomach is doing this painful rolling thing.
When I get to the gym’s doorway, I find my math teacher, Ms. Reiner, standing just outside the girls’ locker room. Her eyes are streaming with tears, and she’s cupping a hand over her mouth like she wants to scream.
Something is wrong. The blood drains from my face, arms, everything. I run into the locker room, pushing teachers out of the way. River is standing over someone. Blood is everywhere. The principal is on his cell, calling for an ambulance.
The body on the cold gray concrete floor is wearing Joy’s denim jacket with the heart patch sewn on the sleeve. Joy bought it last year after she and her boyfriend broke up on Valentine’s. She said she didn’t need a guy to make the day feel special. She could make her own heart happy.
But that can’t be Joy’s blood circling the drain. That is not her. That is not her blonde hair covered in red. That is not her sweet face battered to a pulp. That is not my sister lying there not breathing.
The room suddenly feels like a movie set. Not real. My fingers and toes, arms and legs, not real. This is all fake. The sickness in my stomach is an illusion, too.
Isn’t it?
River spots me and runs over, her dark eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Huff! Don’t look. Don’t look!” She turns my body away and wraps her arms around me.
But I can’t feel River touching me. I can’t feel anything.
CHAPTER THREE
“I’m telling you, Huffy, you’re going to love it here. I can’t wait to finally see you!” River squeals on the other end of the phone while I inspect my handiwork on the bed. Rows of neatly rolled up socks, underwear, jeans, shorts, and T-shirts fill my black suitcase. I’ve already double-checked the items against my inventory list, which I made two months ago in preparation for this day.
I’m finally leaving this shithole of a town and going off to college, transferring in as a junior. Computer science major. It had taken time after high school to finally pick a major, which is why I went to community college first.
River continues, “Don’t forget to text me the second you check into your dorm, okay? I have everything planned for tonight and this weekend. I’ll show you all my favorite spots!” She goes on, telling me about some off-campus breakfast place with homemade banana nut muffins that she loves and a beach about a half hour away. “Maybe you’ll want to try windsurfing.”