CHAPTER THREE
Students jostled each other in the race to get to their next class. Being height challenged made looking where I was going difficult while swept up in the stream of traffic.
Seriously, it was like the senior boys held a meeting over the summer and decided to compete for who could grow the tallest. My view consisted of a lot of backpacks and books, and not a whole lot of room numbers and teacher nameplates.
Luckily, Manuel had pointed out my second period class, and the flow seemed to veer in that general direction.
Another crowning point on a stellar start to school was that Mr. Watkins hadn’t kept me long enough to make me late to another class.
He’d only wanted to warn me that despite my circumstances, he wouldn’t make any allowances going forward.
I’d stared at him, my jaw a little slack.
He’d made allowances?
Was he for real?
He’d lambasted me in front of the class.
But… I picked my jaw up and nodded before vacating the vicinity, posthaste.
“Willa!” a voice called, and I froze, wondering if it was an actual voice or a mental one that stemmed from my condition.
I didn’t get to check, because someone bumped into me from behind and kick started my feet into motion, walking while also searching for the owner of the voice.
A thin kid balancing too many books had jostled me with his limited range of sight.
A trio of friends congregated by the water fountain, dressed so similarly that they could have shared a closet.
Boys’ voices shouted above the rest, calling out to get their friends’ attention.
Various perfumes and colognes and the occasional whiff of body odor looped by as people passed too close, like an old movie film loaded with a reel of scents.
The onslaught of information easily overloaded my senses that’d taken a siesta throughout what was essentially isolation.
“Just get to class,” I murmured, the sound swallowed up by the rushed, eager conversations.
One discussion in particular warped and rose, catching my attention, even if others didn’t seem to pay it more attention than any of the other thousands of words blending together in a deafening cacophony.
“—for Ben?” a girl’s voice asked.
I paused. What were the odds? Sure, Ben wasn’t an uncommon name, but…
“Of course I’m going. I was his girlfriend.” The speaker sniffled, her voice cracking. “It’s been a long time coming. I mean, they should have had the memorial ages ago. It’s been months.”
If any doubt lingered as to which Ben they’d been discussing, it vanished in a blink. My heart wrenched, and the rest of the noise died down, consumed beneath the pounding in my ears.
Girlfriend echoed through the hammering in my blood.
My lungs constricted, and it hurt to swallow.
People jostled me. I was an untethered buoy struggling in the high sea until a hand closed around my bicep and tugged me to the side. My wide, panicked eyes flew up, meeting chocolate irises clouded with concern. His lips formed my name, but no sound came out.
Oh.
Oh no.
Was this more than just a panic attack?
Terrified, I jerked my wrist around and clacked twice in rapid succession to refresh the screen on my smartwatch.
Normal readings, apart from an elevated pulse.
My shoulders drooped. Somehow, knowing it wasn’t one of those attacks helped calm my racing thoughts, and sound bled back into my world.
“That’s it, just breathe, lamb.”
“Ralph,” I acknowledged, though it came out closer to a gasped question than it did a greeting.
Then, I remembered what’d triggered my panic.
A thick flow of students clogged the hallway, making it impossible to see if the two girls were around.
I hadn’t seen their faces, but I’d recognized their voices.
In a small school district like ours, it was bound to happen, especially when the speakers in question often raised their hands in class to ask a million questions the teacher had already covered.
Kaylee Jules and Ben’s ex—God, I hoped it was his ex and not current girlfriend like she’d declared—Urena Hayashi had been the ones talking about… about…
“Deep breaths,” Ralph ordered, reminding me of his presence. “You’re freaking out again.”
It was no simple task to forget he was there. He didn’t tower over the students, but Ralph carried a thick body and plenty of muscles from nonstop work on his parents’ farm.
Not to mention, in such a white-washed rural school, his dark skin and massive head of dreadlocks made him noticeable.
I nodded in response to his prompt, feeling more grounded when his hands found my shoulders. The heavy weight helped me focus on him and match his exaggerated breathing until the moment passed once more.
“Thank you,” I croaked, hugging my notebook to my chest like a shield.
His thumbs rubbed soothing circles. “You okay?”
My head bobbed in a quick nod that had his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Licking my lips, I offered, “I just overheard… um, some people talking about Ben’s memorial.”
That explanation cleared most of the confusion from his face. “Oh. Sorry, we would have warned you, but…” He trailed off.
Oh, right. Gently, he implied I was lying in a bed of my own making.
I hadn’t told any of them I’d be returning to school today.
In fact, I hadn’t replied to any of their messages or phone calls after the first few weeks I’d slipped free from the coma.
They had become too much of my lifeline.
Each message would be poured over and treasured, analyzed, and picked apart.
With every word, they wormed their way deeper into my heart, and I didn’t want anyone else being targeted just because they cared about the wrong person, so I’d cut them loose.
It hurt at first, but their presence was just a stark reminder of how dead Ben was.
“Sorry,” I murmured, wondering what my odds were of slipping into the crowd.
“No, you’re not.” He didn’t relinquish his hold, giving me the full weight of his unimpressed stare.
It wasn’t quite judgmental, but he was definitely looking for an explanation.
He’d be waiting a while. I didn’t fancy a trip back to the loony bin anytime this century, and that’s exactly what would happen if I told him the mayor was out to kill me, had killed Ben, and Ben’s dad, the chief of police, had been the one to send me into a coma.
But oh, the Fairview Police Department covered all that up somehow, which was why everyone, including my family, thought I’d injured myself.
And that was the sane half of the explanation.
“Cut that out, lamb,” Ralph ordered, giving my shoulders a soft shake.
I blinked, focusing on him. “What?”
“Looking for an escape and acting like you’re already halfway out the door.”
“Sorry,” I repeated.
He sighed, loosening his grip slightly. “I know you aren’t, but that’s okay. Listen, we wanted to warn you about the memorial, but we didn’t even know if it’d be an issue. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Any time we came to visit, you had your mom tell us you didn’t feel good.”
My brows rose at that, because I didn’t remember any of them knocking on my door.
Why had my mom sent them away?
“And we didn’t even know when Ben’s dad would return from his time off either. He didn’t handle Ben’s—” Ralph cleared his throat and glanced away. “Yeah, he didn’t handle things too well.”
I’d say not. He’d nearly killed me in a room full of his colleagues, but again, I couldn’t tell anyone.
I blinked down the surge of tears, attempting to regain control over my emotions. “I can’t be late to second period.”
“Hey, Buchanan!” a voice called.
Ralph and I both glanced in that direction, though his expression carried an annoyed air while mine held relief. “You should go.”
He fixed that scowl on me. “Willa—”
“Really, I’m serious. Your friends want you, and Mr. Watkins gave me a hard time for arriving to his class late—”
“Watkins is an ass, and I’m more concerned with the friend that needs me.”
My heart thawed fractionally, but I continued, pretending I hadn’t heard his retort. “I’d really like to not repeat that experience. With my luck, Watkins will hear about it and judge me more.”
Ralph stared me down, seeming to start and discard several responses before he settled on, “Alright, for now, but we’re talking later. Which lunch do you have?”
“Ah, I don’t know.” I fumbled for my notebook where I’d slipped the schedule for safekeeping. The second it was free, Ralph snatched it from my fingers, scanning the paper for himself. “Hey, give that back!”
Without looking away from his task, he dodged my half-hearted swipe. “Nah. You have Mrs. Fry for English fourth period. I think she has A-lunch, so her students will too. Hunter has A-lunch.”
“That’s nice. Now give me back my schedule.”
He did, but only after whipping out his phone and snapping a picture. A scoff escaped him as he continued to study my classes on the screen. “We don’t share a single class together. Well, kind of. Gym, but we have different teachers. That’s lame.”
Despite everything, the affront in his tone dredged up a measure of amusement. “Should I take your complaint to the guidance counselor?”
“Don’t tempt me. Here, I’ll help you brave the masses. Come on, lamb.” Ralph kept me at his side while guiding us into the rapid-paced river of students.
Either he was superb at navigating the choppy waters, or people gave him a wide berth, because five seconds later, he veered out with ease and deposited me safely at the door of my second period class.
I glanced at my watch once more, this time to actually use it for its intended purpose, but Ralph commented on it.
“You keep looking at that. Are you having an episode?”
Shock tore through me, leaving me unable to do anything but blink at him.
He knew?
Ralph tilted his head, clocking my surprise. “You had one at Green Dunes that day. Freaked your brother out.”