“Listen to this: ‘Second teen ends up in hospital after late-night accident at Shadyridge RV Park.’”
“It’s got to be Nora. That chick is messed.”
“I can’t believe she would try to copycat Malin.”
“What a poser. As if she would actually go through with it.”
“I heard she was on a golf cart.”
“Ha! How fast can a golf cart go anyway?”
“Now, her boyfriend—that’s another story. That pothead has probably already tried a couple times.”
“Yeah, but’s he’s likely too stoned to get it right.”
It clicks in who they are talking about. I glance over to the “Vape and More” corner of the cafeteria. Evan is there alone. Without Nora. He stares down at his phone with a flat expression, but the staccato thump of his trainer perfectly mirrors Jade’s nervous tell. Then, as if he has heard the idiots from behind me through the frenetic cafeteria, his foot stops hard on the ground. He glares straight at them, then his gaze shifts and stops on our table. The pain his eyes throw hits my stomach like a missed volleyball spike. He rises, switching his attention back to the jocks. His original fury is gone, but his body caves inward with each of their unsuppressed hoots. He staggers toward the cafeteria exit, hits the doors hard, and thrusts himself out of the deafening choir of judgment.
My hands begin to sting. I stand up and my chair topples backward to the floor.
“What the—!” One of the jocks yells some kind of profanity, but I can’t hear him. The rush in my ears has begun.
With an intense need to reach Evan, I head for the door but can’t make it beyond our table. Its surface grounds me as the sea of bobbing heads in front of me smears into a colorful, nausea-inducing wave. I focus on my own group of friends. This is just another panic attack, Thea. Breathe. Focus. Ethan is slipping Ashley money and whispering something in her ear, but then they blur. Jade, clearly unaware of my state this time, nervously bites her nails while reading the post. She too begins to disappear. This is not helping.
At a table across from ours, a glow draws my attention. Light comes from each of the students, just like I saw during the assembly. I clearly see each of their faces, hear them laughing. Is that warmth coming from their direction? I study them as if they are in a petri dish and unaware of my inspection. And they are unaware, engulfed in their own conversation, not affected by the noise around them. One kid even reads from a book. Is that a Bible? The Bible made zero sense to me when I read it to Grams, but it always brought her such peace.
Peace. My fists release. My jaw relaxes. I allow a slow exhale. Peace. My vision focuses again on the cafeteria doors. Evan is gone.
Something soft hits the side of my leg. “Thea? Hey, Thea. Earth to Thea,” Jade says in a robot-like voice.
I blink hard and drop my gaze to my trig assignment, now a scrunched ball of paper nestled within crumbs and eraser bits. “What?” I say as casually as I can.
“You were space-cadeting.” She helpfully imitates a vacant stare. “What were you looking at?” She pauses, her voice changing from jovial to quiet and concerned. “Did you see something again?”
“No, nothing. I was trying to … um”—I gather up my textbook and papers—“to see if one of the math elite over there could help me with this trig question.”
“Uh,” Jade points to herself, “unofficial math elite right here.” She waits, eyebrows raised, probably wondering how long it will take for me to arrive back to earth.
She’s right; she is a math genius. I pan from her to my disaster of an assignment. That was a lame excuse. She’s so going to call me out on that one. Why didn’t I just ask her in the first place?
She interrupts my thoughts. “Just leave it with me. I can finish it for you.”Ashley takes a break from popping Ethan’s collar up and down. “What is she going to finish for you?”
“Nothing,” I snap. Both Ashley and Jade turn toward me, eyes wide. “I mean, I should do it myself.” I blow loose hair from my face. “I need a caffeine boost first.” I shove my textbook into my bag.
“You can have another cookie.” Ashley waves at a pile on Ethan’s plate.
Without pausing, I grab one, stuff it into my mouth, and then force a smile. “Thanks.” My half-done trig assignment sticks out from my textbook, mocking me. There is no way I can finish it in time. I shoot the paper across the table to Jade, along with my most apologetic expression. “Sorry, I should have asked you at the beginning of lunch to help me with this. Would you mind?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll even try to copy your weird sevens.” Jade tilts her head as she scans my pathetic attempt. She is honestly the only reason I’m still pulling a B in math. I feel horrible having her give me the answers today, but I need to get out of here. I think she knows it too. She frowns at me like I’m the stray cat she left at the Humane Society. I attempt a more heartfelt grin, but it feels forced.
“Hey, Thea, don’t forget rehearsal after school today,” Ashley says in between kissing Ethan’s neck.
“Thanks.” I don’t know where to look when she does this. “I forgot we were back on this week.” I clear my throat. Ethan seems oblivious to even being necked; his attention is glued to his phone through all of Ashley’s preening. “Do you remember what scene we’re doing?”
She glances at me and pauses. “Like you would forget. Ms. Vosper wants us to start blocking.” She puckers her lips. “Time for some up close and personal time.” She winks.
“Right, how could I forget?” I attempt her stank eyes, but it likely comes across as though I have an astigmatism instead of attitude. She doesn’t notice anyway.
My shoulders feel heavier as I leave this time, the need to escape returning with more urgency. I am in no place to see Gavin today. I need to find Evan. Or talk to someone about what is going on.
I pass by the “Vapes and More” corner on my way out. A plain spiral-bound notebook lies next to a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich. Evan’s sandwich. In one quick motion, I scoop up the notebook and add it to my pile of books like a mother hen before hip-checking out the cafeteria door. I reach the front doors to the school, and my shoulders begin to lighten, as do my steps.
Another hip check and I am free.
CHAPTER NINE
Cotton-candy-scented smoke wafts past me as I approach the lights on my way to Milk and Honey. I scan for Evan at the front area of the school, along Vapers’ Alley, but he is long gone. He’s probably halfway home by now. I know I would be.
His dog-eared black notebook looks out of place next to my pristine aqua binders. I pull it out and skim the cover for any indication of a school subject, but there is none. I fan it open and immediately feel an overwhelming urge to close it. Pencil and black ink swirl across the pages in the form of faces, bodies, and intricate designs. Font-perfect block letters intersperse between the pages of artwork. This is not school content, but some kind of journal or sketchbook. He’s going to want this back. I return it to my bag and search the parking lot of the plaza with no luck.
M&H calls me like a haven, and I arrive at the front door with sweet release. The warmth and aroma of coffee take away the last of the tension in my shoulders.