Huff goes on to tell everyone about Joy, about the people who killed her and then covered it up. He tells them that his only regret was not stepping up when he had the chance. “I hope someone will come forward and finally give my sister justice.”
“What do you have to say about the drug that made you into a superhero. Is it true?” one woman asks, shoving her microphone in his face.
Huff looks uncomfortable. He removes the red cape I made him wear and hands it to me. “I’m not a superhero. And the drug I was exposed to doesn’t turn anyone into that. It’s a death sentence. So, for anyone who’s really listening, all you need to know is that you don’t need muscles and special drugs to change your life. You only have to be brave. That’s it. If your sister needs you, you run and get her back. If your best friend is in trouble, you get in your car and be by her side. If people are trapped in a building, you do what you can to help.”
I like what Huff is saying, and I understand his point, but he’s being too humble. “I have something to say. This guy is all heart. That’s what makes him special. His nickname should be Ultra Mega Love. Not Nerd Boy.”
Huff smiles. “That sounds a little wimpy, River.”
“Fine. Mr. Ultra Mega Love.”
“Better. Now, if you all don’t mind, I need to see my family before I’m arrested or drop dead.”
Huff turns—and then stops.
He looks at me with wide blue eyes and presses his hand over his heart.
“Huff!” I scream.
He falls to the ground.
“Someone get a doctor,” I yell to the reporters. I crouch next to him, taking his hand. “Don’t go, Huff. I love you. Don’t go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Chaos. Pure. Utter chaos.
Huff was rushed away on a gurney, and when his parents got word soon after, they showed up. There are no words to describe the looks on their faces. Losing one child is horrible. But losing two? I can’t imagine.
After that, all I remember are the sounds of his mom sobbing as we waited and waited some more in that crowded room. I don’t even remember handing the drugs off to one of my sisters, but she must’ve gotten the doses out. A few hours later, some of the ones who were “feeling sick” started showing up for support.
I know it’s going to be a huge mess when this all shakes out, but right now, in this moment, all I can think is that I must be dreaming.
That doctor did not just come out here and tell us there was nothing they could do. It can’t be. Huff can’t be gone. No way.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here trying to process it. My heart is numb. My brain feels like it’s been busted up into a million random thoughts—memories of Huff and me playing in his yard, hours of us talking on the phone. Our first school dance together in the seventh grade. Dressing as the Hudson River for Halloween—green clothes with trash and plastic fish glued all over us. Then there was our kiss and these past few days. Huff telling me he loves me.
So many things are swimming in my head, and all of them are telling me that this can’t be real. It doesn’t fit our story. We were supposed to be together. Forever.
My eyes drift over to Huff’s parents, who are holding each other crying. I want to say something to them, but what? My condolences? I’m sorry for your loss?
Fuck no. Because he’s not dead. He can’t be.
“I need to see him,” I blurt out. “I want to see him.” I rush through the door where they took Huff. “I want to see him!”
I’m intercepted by some woman. “You can’t be back here. You have to go back outside.”
“No. I want to see him! I know he’s not gone.”
Some guys show up and start dragging me out.
I kick and scream and flail my arms. “I’m not leaving until I see him!”
I don’t really know what happens next. It’s all a blur. I’m put in some exam room and locked inside. I hear screaming out in the hall. Some of my sisters are demanding I be let out. People are running around, calling for security.
“I want to see him! Now! Let me the fuck out of here!” I pound my fists on the door and look out the small window. Men in white coats rush by, pushing a gurney. There’s a body with a sheet over it.
They’re taking him. They’re going to chop him up into little pieces and study him like an animal. “You can’t do this! Give him back!”
But no one comes. No one is listening.
I drop to the floor and cover my face, unable to stop crying. There is absolutely nothing in this world that will convince me he’s dead. I would know. I would know!