Page 86 of The Rebel of Raleigh High
“Thanks for droppingthe car off again. And picking me up. And for listening to me rant,” I groan. Alex isn’t even slightly hungover—a fact that I’m incredibly jealous of, since I still feel like I’m going to throw my guts up any moment.
We're already at my locker, having made it successfully into school and through A.P. physics without encountering Kacey, Jake, or any of their minions. The bell's about to ring for second period any moment. “You're welcome,” Alex says, leaning against the locker next to mine as I rummage around for my English textbook. “And I'm happy to listen to you rant. Families are tough. Moms are tough.”
“You think I should go easier on her, don’t you?”
He thinks about this. “No. She betrayed you and Max too, when she cheated on your dad. She probably deserves a rough week or two. Butyouthink you should go easier on her, don't you?”
How? How the hell can he read my mind like that? I shove my textbook into my bag, sighing heavily as I slam my locker door closed. “I really hurt her this morning. I saw it on her face. And Iwantedto hurt her so fucking bad, but…”
“But she’s your mom, and you love her,” Alex finishes. “It’s okay to forgive her, y’know. The world won’t stop turning.”
“But it's not up to me to forgive her. That's Dad's job. But he can't, he's never even gonna get that opportunity, because I told Mom to keep her mouth shut. And now the air inside the house feels so fucking toxic, I can't even breathe in there, and it just seems like everything going toexplode.”
CRACK!
On my last word, a loud, sharp explosion sounds at the other end of the hall, and my heart fucking stops.
I frown at Alex. “What the fuck?”
I know what that loud bang sounded like, but there’s no way…
Not here. Not at Raleigh.
A chorus of screams go up outside the entrance to the cafeteria.
Alex grabs hold of me by the top of my arm. His eyes are huge in his face. He’s craning over the top of the students crowding in the hall, trying to see what’s happening. That’s when the second loud crack rips through the air…and all hell breaks loose.
“Shooter,” Alex hisses between bared teeth. “There’s a fucking shooter.”
Shooter?
“Fuck. Come on.” He yanks me by the arm, pulling me along the line of lockers, heading toward the exit. My legs follow along automatically, but my body’s twisted. I’m trying to face the other way, trying to get a clear image of what’s going on behind us. What the hell is he talking about? Alex saidshooter, but the word makes no sense. Even the panic on my classmate’s faces doesn’t make any sense, as they begin shoving down the hallway, shouting, dropping books and bags in their attempts to flee for the double doors that lead out toward the parking lot.
“Alex?”
God, I’m…my head is spinning. The edges of my vision are blurring, smudging the posters on the walls and the faces of the other students together in a streak of too-bright color.
Alex doesn’t look back. His fingers are gouging into my arm, his nails digging into my skin—the bone feels like it’s going to shatter as he urges me along with him, but I don’t want him to let go. I need to stay with him.Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. God, don’t fucking leave me…
CRACK! CRACK!
Two shots, this time. The press of bodies heading for the door becomes suffocating as everyone rushes forward, trampling on those who have fallen, the smell of fear and acerbic gun powder thick in the air.
“They’re locked. The doors are locked!” The shout goes up at the front of the crowd. A kid I recognize from the chess team, Gareth Foster, is frantically pulling on the doors, trying to force them open, but they aren’t even budging.
Alex stops dead, his mission for the doors abandoned. Turning to me, his eyes flash cold as he takes hold of me by the chin and speaks in a calm, even tone. “The music rooms, Silver. What's the quickest route to the music rooms?”
“The…music rooms?”
“Concentrate,Argento. Think. How can we get there without having to push through all this?”
“Oh my god! Korra! Korra’s been shot!”Terrified wails go up in the hallway, deafening, and tear-streaked kids blunder, fumbling to get the classroom doors open.
I watch, stunned, as Laughlin Moss, one of Raleigh’s best linebackers, slams a girl out of the way, knocking her to the floor, as he bulldozes his way into Mr. Biltmore’s history classroom.
“Silver.Silver!” Alex’s hands are on my shoulders. He shakes me roughly. “Silver, I know this is really fucked up, but I need you to listen to me right now. How do we get to the music rooms from here? Is there a way, other than the main corridor?”
“Uh…yeah. Uh, the back stairs. Through the science block. You can go through that way.”
