I hear the gunshot as I open my locker.

Around me, my classmates panic. Craig Jones screams. Janelle Brooks starts to cry. Even Evan Miller looks like he's about to wet himself.

Principal Schutrick's voice sounds from above, warning everyone to relocate to a designated lockdown area.

I stand there, paralyzed, until someone grabs my arm and drags me down the hall.

"Layla, come on. Someone's got a gun. We have to move," Jose tells me.

I know that someone has a gun. I know that this is an active shooter situation, and that what I do in the next five minutes will save or end my life, but my limbs feel like puddy. My legs won't move fast enough. All I can think about is how I didn't shut my locker. I didn't shut my locker. I didn't shut my—

Jose lifts me off the ground and quite literally tosses me into an empty classroom. Several other students follow us. I watch, still frozen, as Jose locks the door and turns off the lights.

"Everyone, stay down. Keep away from the door and the windows," he commands.

"You know a lot about this," Shenae Cassidy, a girl from my AP English class, comments.

Jose shrugs his shoulders. "My dad was in the army. My sister and I have been prepared for this since we were in diapers."

I, however, am not prepared for this. I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

I dig my phone out of my pocket to send Damian a text, only to find that the device is dead. I forgot to charge it last night.

Last night. When Damian and I almost kissed.

The memory is enough to snap me back to reality. I look around the dark room and take in the six faces that surround me. Along with Jose and Shenae, I recognize Wesley Ward, Cordelia Carpenter, Rob Blanchard, and Elowen McCurdy. With the obvious exception of Jose, I barely know them. Cordelia is rich and popular. Rob is on the football team. Wesley is a mathlete. The only reason I remember Shenae and Elowen is because the three of us have English together.

Our graduating class only has sixty students. How do I know so little about these people?

I have a sinking feeling that this experience is about to bring us closer together.

The seven of us sit in silence. Jose has his fists balled, like he's ready to jump into battle. Shenae tucks her knees to her chest. Wesley taps his fingers against the floor. Rob clutches his cell phone so tightly I fear it's going to turn to dust in his hand. Cordelia has her arms wrapped around her torso, a fearful expression on her face. Elowen shoves her hands into the muff pocket of her sweatshirt and closes her eyes.

"My mom must be in a panic," Wesley says, shattering the tense quiet. "We live right down the street. I'm sure she saw the cop cars."

"Will the school call our parents?" Shenae asks.

"They have to," Jose answers. "An automated message gets sent out as soon as the principal issues a lockdown."

"This is insane," Rob growls. "What kind of person brings a gun to school?"

"And how did someone even get a gun?" Shenae adds.

"Probably from their parents. It's crazy how many adults are careless and don't lock up their firearms," Jose explains. "My dad had guns. A lot of guns. He always kept them in the safe, though."

"Does it matter how they got it?" Rob's voice rises dangerously above a whisper. "Some whack-job is roaming our halls with a loaded gun. We're all fucked."

"How do you know this person is a whack-job?" Elowen turns to the football star, her eyes fixed in a glare. "Why would you say that?"

"Uh, maybe because this whack-job has us sitting on the floor in the dark while we wait to either get shot or go home," Rob spits back.

"Okay, can we just be quiet?" Cordelia hugs herself tighter. "If the shooter is nearby, they're going to hear us."

Just like that, a knock sounds from the other side of the door.

"Don't say anything," Jose orders. His dark eyes meet mine. Just to me, he whispers, "It's okay. You're going to be okay."

I nod my head, wanting desperately to believe him.

"Hello?" the voice behind the knocking calls. "It's Declan Briggs. Is anyone in there?"

"Declan!" Cordelia jumps up so fast I feel dizzy. She runs to the door and attempts to unlock it, only for Rob to shove her aside.

"Do you want to let the shooter in?" he demands

"It's not the shooter. It's Declan. We can't leave him stranded in the hallway!"

"Or it's someone pretending to be Declan."

"It's not."

"And how can you be so sure, princess?"

I cringe as Rob gets in Cordelia's face. I expect her to back down, but she surprises me by physically moving Rob, who is twice her size, out of the way and putting her ear against the door.

"Dec, it's Cordy," she says, tears filling her eyes. "Tell me... tell me something only I would know."

"He's her boyfriend," Jose informs me. "They've been together since junior year."

"The first time you kissed me, I told you I could never be with someone so self-absorbed. Not even five seconds later, I kissed you like my life depended on it," I hear Declan say. The guy doesn't miss a beat.

Cordelia lets out an audible sigh of relief as she pulls the door open. She wraps her arms around her boyfriend's neck and kisses him like her life depends on it.

Now I really wish Damian was here.

Behind Declan is an auburn-haired girl whom I recognize as Effie Holt, the one who saved my life. She sits down on the other side of Jose and takes out her cell phone.

"There's no service in here," she grumbles. "I want to text my sister. I just want to text my sister."

"What did you see out there?" Jose inquires, oblivious to her distress.

"Nothing," she replies. "It's a ghost town."

"Don't say ghost just yet," Wesley remarks.

"We should make our escape," Rob voices. "If the halls are empty—"

"We'd just be making ourselves easy targets," Jose says with a shake of his head. "We should stay put. In here, we're safe."

Except I don't feel safe. Jose's calm demeanor and wise words fail to annihilate the butterflies in my stomach. Maybe it's just nerves, but something still feels horribly wrong, like the worst is yet to come.

My gaze drifts toward Elowen. If I had to describe her in one word, it would be shy. We've shared many classes over the years, but until today, I've never heard her speak. She's always so quiet, so withdrawn.

Once upon a time, I was just like her.

I notice the way she keeps her hands stuffed in her sweatshirt pocket, like she's hiding something precious, something she doesn't want anyone else to see.

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow my trepidation and turn to face her.

"Elowen," I whisper, "what's in your pocket?"

Her eyes widen. For a moment, I suspect she might burst into tears.

She doesn't cry, though. Instead, she rises to her feet, reaches deeper into her pocket, and pulls out a shiny silver handgun.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Rob exclaims, leaping backwards. "You crazy bitch! You're the shooter?"

"Nobody move!" The gun shakes in Elowen's hand. as she points it at Rob.

"Okay, Elowen, you need to listen." Jose leans forward slightly, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"No, I don't need to do anything," she snaps. "Who's got the gun?" To prove her point, she steps forward and holds the muzzle to Jose's forehead.

"Elowen—"

"WHO'S GOT THE GUN?"

He gulps. "You do."

"That's right." To my relief, she backs away from him. "I have the gun. I call the shots."

Without thinking, I encircle my arms around Jose's neck and hold him tighter than I ever have. He buries his face in the crook of my neck. I feel the fear-induced perspiration on his forehead.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay," he assures me once more.

There's so much I want to say, but words don't come out. The only sound that escapes my mouth is a terrified gasp as Rob tries to make a run for the door.

Elowen points the gun at his head and pulls the trigger.

She has the gun, and she isn't afraid to use it.

I sit in the gymnasium, squished between two freshmen as I call Layla's phone for the tenth time. It keeps going to voicemail. It's probably dead. She never charges the damn thing.

I shove the device into my pocket and survey the room. I need a dark, secluded area so I can get the hell out of here.

I need to find Layla.

Rising to my feet, I push past the underclassmen and make my way down the bleachers. The locker room is empty. I'll make my escape there.

"Damian Forbes, where do you think you're going?" a shrill voice demands.

Slowly, I turn around and see Mrs. Fitzpatrick staring at me with her beady eyes and permanent scowl.

"I have to use the bathroom," I lie.

"We're in the middle of a lockdown, Mr. Forbes. Please sit down."

"But I really have to go."

She lets out a weary sigh and folds her arms over her chest. "Look, I understand that this is a frightening situation, but I need you to take a seat."

I don't like the woman, but I nod my head, silently obeying her shaky request. Her trepidation is palpable, except she doesn't have the privilege of showing her fear. She has to put on a brave facade for our sakes.

How twisted is that? Someone brings a gun to school, and now teachers have to channel their inner superhero?

I lower myself onto the floor. Beside me, Mariana Valdez is staring at her phone, a panicked expression on her face.

"Everything okay, Mar?" I ask.

"Obviously not."

"Sorry."

"I'm just... I'm trying to reach Jose," she mumbles, "but my texts aren't going through."

"Half the school doesn't have cell service. Wherever he is, I'm sure he's safe."

"I don't think he is," she replies, glancing at me through teary eyes. "Whether it's a twin thing or just a best friend thing, Jose and I... we have a connection. Sometimes, I can feel what he's feeling, and vice versa. Right now, something feels... wrong. I can't explain it. I'm probably not making any sense."

She's making more sense than she realizes. Ever since the school went into lockdown, I've had the same pit-in-my-stomach feeling about Layla.

"Oh, my god!" Mariana squeals. "He finally texted back!"

I watch as she reads the message, her bright smile quickly transforming into a frown.

"What is it?" I ask. "What did he say?"

Her hand trembles as she passes me the phone, allowing me to read it for myself.

Jose: Trapped in first floor science lab with eight other students. Elowen McCurdy is shooter. I love you.

"Show this to Mrs. Fitzpatrick," I instruct her. "Show her now."

Frantically, she gets up and runs toward our math teacher. While the old lady is distracted, I run to the locker room.

I have to get to the first floor science lab.

A/N:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I've actually had this one written for over a year now, way before I ever unpublished and then republished 😂
Any thoughts on the lockdown? Damian and Layla? 🤔