This doesn’t feel real. Thiscan’tbe real. Mr. Taylor; Jack; Daniel… all these people I’ve known for years, trying to ruin my life. But I know it is. This is happening.
I shove my things into my bag and rush out, running down the stairs so fast that I almost trip and fall. I’m terrified of bumping into Mr. Taylor. I’m terrified they’re all watching me. I have to leave; I have to get out—but I need to take Chiamaka with me.
I dial her number, hoping she’s found her phone by now.
Voicemail.
I call her again. Nothing.
I run across the school, checking random rooms, the libraries, the girls’ bathroom even. Chiamaka’s nowhere to be found. She’s probably in class. We should have left sooner. Should have jumped to conclusions, should have pieced everything together.
I rub my eyes roughly.I need to leave. I need to get help.
I push through the big entrance doors, out into the open air.
“Hey! Stop right there!” a deep voice says. I feel spikes at the back of my neck. This feels like one of those nightmares I used to have when I was young, where I was trapped inside a cell of some kind, screaming for help, but no one would hear my pleas over the sound of the evil nightmare monster’s laughter.
I run as fast as I can toward the black gates, slamming the exit button by the steps.
I need to get out.
The gates start to open, grinding slowly, until suddenly they stop.
I want to scream, I’ve got to run.
I stumble, looking back at Headmaster Ward, a remote controlgripped in his bony fingers. I look at the gap in between the gates; it’s small, but I can make it. I jump through just as the gates start closing, wrenching my bag through as the metal clinks together.
I turn one last time. Ward is at the top of the stairs, expressionless as he watches me.
He takes a step forward and my heart jumps out of my chest as I run and run and keep running.
30
CHIAMAKA
Monday
It feels weird being here in class, taking notes like nothing’s happened. Eyeballs itch the back of my neck, and I dig the lead of the pencil into the page, gripping it hard as the teacher’s words go over my head.
I tap my leg against the chair, desperately waiting for the bell to go off.
The bell rings.
I gather my things as voices mesh together over the bell, chairs scrape the floor, tables move, and people pad out of the classroom. I hear the sound of a few text tones, but I’m already out the door, head down, as I storm through the hallway toward Morgan Library. I need to see Devon and show him something I saw in the library on Sunday before I sawher—and I desperately want my phone back.
I push open the doors of Morgan, which creak loudly. My heart beats fast as they close behind me, cutting off the hubbub outside. I scan the room, bending and looking beneath the tables we sat under last night. I spot my silver phone case and I sigh with relief.
“ThankGod,” I mutter, before reaching out to grab it.
Surprisingly, it hasn’t died yet, but I have one million and one messages from Devon and one from Belle.
Sorry I can’t be with you today, will miss you though x—B
I smile down at the message.
School sucks without you, get better soon so that I have your face to look at when I feel down x—C
Ha, I’ll try x—B
