***HARRIS***

Even if I could somehow predict the contents of Evan's text, I would still have found myself dropping my phone in shock as I read the message.

That's what I keep thinking to myself as I furiously pedal my bike up to the hospital. If only I could ride a motorbike - it would be so much faster. But Dad says he won't start training me on his old one (which he keeps in storage) until I'm seventeen, and that's two and some odd months away. So until then, it's either walk, or pedal-bike old-school like I'm still Jeremy's age.

It really just blows. Unofficially, my friends and I are old enough in the eyes of Severide and Drake to embark on dangerous, life-threatening missions. But according to the law here in California, none of us (not even Michelle - she's not eighteen till July) can join the military, or legally drink or smoke or look at porn or have sex, or drive unsupervised, or...you get the picture. According to Jay's dad, though, we'd already be legal for some of those things if we were living in England. It's like this scenario I keep seeing on What Would You Do? - two soldiers on leave want a drink, but can't get one because they're over 18 but under 21. Laws are just so arbitrary sometimes.

I hate that I'm thinking about random shit like being a minor when Kevin's in real trouble. But I guess it's better than trying to imagine the carnage. Evan couldn't even spell her text properly, her fingers must have been shaking so badly. "kevins in hospitae shoteonein. Eye," she'd said. I actually yelped in surprise as I dropped my phone, attracting Thor's attention. As I bent down to retrieve my phone, Thor ran up to me with an inquisitive whine, nudging my hands with his furry black nose.

"I'm okay," I said, hugging him briefly. "But Kevin's not. I gotta go - everyone else is probably at the hospital, if they're not on their way."

Thor barked twice, and I immediately interpreted that as him asking, "But why?"

"As smart as you are," I said as I went to the garage to grab my bike, "they're not gonna let you in - no way are they gonna think I need a service dog." Probably 'cause I'm a warlock, I thought sourly. "I promise I'll be back soon, okay?" With another long whine, Thor returned to his bed by the living-room sofa. "Good boy," I said, waving goodbye as I left the house and texted Aimee and Jay, unsure if Evan had gotten to either of them yet.

It's only when I'm halfway to the hospital that I realize I didn't even grab my helmet. Oh well. Nobody wears one anymore anyway, but Dad always made sure I stuck to that particular habit when I was younger and rode my bike all the time. This is the same bike I've had since I was ten, and I've definitely outgrown it. I have to bend over so far to reach the handlebars, and that puts a certain amount of unwanted pressure on my balls...

And there I go, thinking about myself and my own problems again. Problems which seem so small now. What's happened to Kevin - it's a miracle he didn't die right then and there in the ice cream parlor. He'll probably appear in the Ripley's Believe It Or Not! book someday - that's one of the few places where you see people who've survived getting shot in the eye. That and the Walking Dead comics.

I reach the hospital at almost the same time as Jay and Jeremy, whose dad drove them here. As he off-loads them and heads off, probably to find a parking space, we boys go inside and find Evan and Adele waiting in the lobby. They both look scared out of their minds, especially Adele, who's got blood on the sleeves of her hoodie. Kevin's? Or someone else's? I'm not sure, and I'm not about to ask just yet. I think she and Evan should have a little time to recover from the shocks to their systems. Especially given that this is the second time in as many days someone in our circle has been attacked by a warlock-hater.

I don't normally dread tomorrow, but I'm thinking that policy of mine seriously needs a revisit.

Jay gives Evan an awkward hug - awkward only because of his arm. A nurse emerges from another room and approaches him, thinking he's a patient too, but he assures her he's not. When I take my turn to hug Evan, I look over her shoulder and watch as Jeremy steps up to Adele. She scoops him up in a big hug of her own, her shoulders shaking. She's barely holding it together, and as for Evan, she's actually crying onto me. To one side, out of the corner of my eye, I see Jay surreptitiously wipe Evan's tears off his shirt.

"Is he still alive?" I ask. I've suspected this whole time that he is, because otherwise, we'd be at the morgue right now.

"He's in surgery," Evan says, her voice faint and numb. "They're gonna...it'll probably be..." She takes a shuddering breath. "We don't know how long it's gonna take."

And so we stay in the waiting room for hours, with Jay's dad being our only adult supervision for the longest time. Evan's parents show up soon, and so does my dad. I'm about to ask at one point where Kevin's parents are, but then Mrs. Michaelsen asks the same question. Evan tells her that they went down to the police station to give their statements - and, presumably, to press charges against Taylor West. It turns out he's eighteen already, so there's no question of whether or not the crime was severe enough for him to be tried as an adult. Basically, that's what's going to happen to him if charges are pressed. Although I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. and Mrs. Sampson decide it's not worth it to go through a trial. Already, there's more than enough anti-warlock prejudice creeping into our school, the police, the media...is the justice system next? Goddamn Republicans spreading their goddamn corruption because they're so afraid of change...I hate to say it, but Ultron, in between his omnicidally maniacal tendencies, had a dangerously good point.

All too soon, it's close to ten at night, and there's still no word on Kevin's condition. Despite all of us wanting to stay and wait, our parents insist we need to get home and sleep in our own beds, not on the waiting room chairs. Kevin's parents will stay here, and they'll get in touch with us whenever there's any news. They're on the Unite Network too, so they'll have no problem letting us know.

At home, I crash very quickly, feeling too tired and worn out with worry to do much more than use the bathroom and flop onto my bed. Thor comes into my room about a minute after that and approaches me, gently licking my hand.

I crack a dazed, bemused smile. "Hi," I say in a sleepy voice, ruffling his head. "Hey, I know you're not supposed to, but...could you stay with me tonight?" Thor tilts his head at the door, and I say, "Dad's not gonna mind. He gets that I might be a little freaked tonight, and..." I stop to yawn. "Who better to keep me company than my most loyal friend, huh?"

He thumps his tail on the floor a couple of times before climbing onto my mattress and giving me one last doggie kiss on my neck. Then he settles down - not in his usual curled-up sleeping position, but stretched out as much as he can. He lays one of his front legs over my shoulder and sniffs my ear before licking it once.

"Love you too, Thor," I say, turning my head so I can kiss him - a human kiss, that is.

I don't sleep very well tonight, even with Thor's protective presence. I keep having nightmares about eyeless Kevin - I really should not have seen It Follows the other day; that movie's got more bloody, eyeless demon creatures than it has any right to have. I'm almost equally disturbed by the one dream that ends with me coming up to an unconscious Kevin in his hospital bed and kissing him awake while his eye bleeds. I mean, it's not the first time I've had this kind of "Sleeping Beau" dream (they usually feature Thomas Sangster, though), but when it comes with a creepy twist like that? I'd like to not repeat that one.

I hate to go to school knowing Kevin won't be there. But the first thing I do when I wake up (other than do a double take when my phone's lock screen informs me that today's Tuesday - really? It feels like yesterday was three days in one, maybe more...) is check the Unite Network. The Sampson parents have said that Kevin's done with surgery and is expected to recover fully in the next couple of days. They've also confirmed that they don't intend to press charges against Taylor West, but they "expect that Independence High School will be fully aware of the threat to students' safety."

I scroll down a long string of replies to Mr. and Mrs. Sampson's post until I find one from Independence's principal, Philip Guerrero. "@SnSIceCream Rest assured, we'll take full disciplinary action."

Good man, Mr. Guerrero. He's a bit of a legend around here. Being the son of illegal immigrants, he's always been a hardscrabble guy, a real fighter. Especially when it comes to politics, his being about as progressive as it gets. No hate crime will go unpunished under Guerrero's watch, that's for damn sure.

I hope.

We hope. We all hope.

When I head out the door on my way to school, I'm surprised to find Aimee standing on the front porch. She hugs me, whispering, "I'm so sorry I didn't-"

"No, no, don't worry about it," I say, holding her chin and brushing my thumb on her jaw. "Nothing happened while we were all waiting."

Aimee shakes her head. "No, but see..." She swallows as we set off together. "My mom and dad, they wouldn't let me leave after I got the message."

"Really? Why?"

"They just got paranoid, I guess." She blows air through her lips, making a backfiring noise as she does so. "Well, when they heard someone got shot, they probably decided they didn't want me getting involved. Not after what happened with Rachel Aster, I guess." She frowns down at the sidewalk as we keep moving, approaching the crosswalk at Bacon and Carver.

"We all miss her. So much."

"I wish I could've gotten to know Rachel more, you know? She...I always thought she was a real sweetie."

"She was," I say. "You two would've gotten along swimmingly." I take her hand while we cross the street. She runs her thumb up and down my wrist, under my triple-striped bi-pride bracelet. "Rachel may have been sweet, but not like you. You're so sweet, it gives me a toothache."

"You're comparing me to a thirteen-year-old girl?" Aimee laughs. "Well, I sometimes act younger than my age, but..." I half-expect her to let go of my hand, but she doesn't. "And...toothache? Really?"

"I thought I was complimenting you." I lean over and kiss the side of her head. "Uh...that wasn't too much, was it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, uh, you said you didn't wanna take things too fast again-"

"Kissing? That's not too much." Sure enough, Aimee returns my kiss, standing on tiptoe so her lips can reach the side of my head. "It's okay, Harris. I know you're scared you're gonna screw things up, but so am I. We shouldn't be scared, not forever." She waits until we've gotten through the next crosswalk before voicing her next thought. "We're taking a second chance on our relationship, right? So we should make the most of it." She nudges me lightly before adding, "Besides, we've kissed plenty of times already on this second chance."

"You got me there."

At school, I'm on edge, expecting disaster at any turn. But as it turns out, the closest I get to any kind of "disaster" is when I almost run over Ric Wyvern, a sophomore, when I walk into the Spanish class we share. 

It's all my fault - I get distracted by the sight of Aimee as she walks by and waves hi to me. Ric, meanwhile, says that he was himself distracted by someone attractive - in this case, senior Hunter Renard. Great minds think alike, I guess.

By the time school's out for the day, Kevin's finally been released from the hospital. His parents tell us that we can all see him - if he's not still sleeping, that is. Kevin, however, jumps into the Unite Network feed with a message of his own. "How can I sleep when I have only one eye to keep open? ;)"

"And I thought my mixed metaphors were screwy enough," I respond.

Aimee and I are among the last ones to get to Kevin's place after school. (Only Michelle is still not here, because she has to drive a long way up compared to the rest of us.) He's a little pale and thin-looking, probably from having eaten very little over the last twenty-four hours. "About the only thing I've had all this time is apple juice after I woke up," Kevin says, blinking his one good eye. The other one is bandaged pretty heavily.

"Someone's gotta ask," Adele says. "When do you get your eye patch, dude?"

"Arrgh, that be a number a' days away yet, matey!" Kevin growls in a bad, bad, bad accent - the kind that Facebook (I think it was Facebook, anyway - or maybe Google?) would have used as the basis for its "Pirate" language setting. He even makes a hook out of his index and middle fingers for effect.

"I'm sure you'll have no trouble pulling the look off wonderfully, love," Evan says in a passable impression of Captain Hook (the Once Upon A Time version, that is.)

"You sexy, sexy pirate." Jay says this in a shockingly spot-on Captain Jack Sparrow voice - so good, in fact, that we all look at him in surprise (except Jeremy, who must be used to it by now.)

I look at Jay through narrowed eyes. "I thought I was the guy who was supposed to get flirty with other guys."

"Hate to say it," Jay says (and, sadly, in his normal voice - not that it's not pleasant to hear, but it's not the same as his devilishly beautiful channeling of Captain Jack), "but you're not the only one who can do that."

"Something you're not telling us?" Jeremy asks, nudging Jay.

"He's not gay," Kevin says with considerable confidence. "Or even bi."

This, of course, is Jay's cue to imitate Stiles Stilinski and scoff, "I could be!"

"No, no, no," Kevin laughs. "You've just got a secret fetish for the eyeless, right?"

Michelle happens to walk into the room at this point, and we all explode with laughter.

You know what? I'm glad we're all just being our usual bad - and bad-joking - selves right now.

After all the tragedy of the last couple of days, it's nice to see that the third time's the charm, and that truly nothing's going to go wrong...

Then there comes a moment where the laughter isn't the only explosion in the room anymore. Everything starts to shake, softly at first, then violently. Everyone screams, then runs for cover under the bed, under Kevin's desk, in the door - even though that's supposed to not be safe, but it doesn't stop me wrapping my arms around Aimee as she locks herself around the trembling doorjamb.

It feels like an eternity before the earthquake ends - and some of us, me included, aren't done trembling. I only let go when Aimee says, "Harris, I'm, uh, kinda stuck here...?"

I finally disentangle myself from her, then step back into the room, where everyone's crawling out from their various hiding places. Kevin emerges from the corner and says, "I think I just did what you're supposed to do for a tornado."

"Which wouldn't do you much good around here," Evan says, coming out from under the desk, where she'd holed up with Jay. He extends his arm as much as he can, wincing at the pain from having it jostled so badly.

"Kansas, maybe," says Michelle as she climbs out from under the bed, along with Jeremy and Adele.

"Do we blame Elena for this?" asks Kevin. "Or you, Michelle? You came in right when the quake happened."

Jay rubs his neck - and, once again, I notice the lack of the thin gold chain he wore all the time for the first few months we knew him. "Blame me, if anything," he says. "God's been trying to strike me down for a while."

I can't help myself. "'You've been...'" Beat. Beat. "'THUNDERSTRUCK!'"

We all laugh again - damn, we're just way too good at releasing the tension. But I could still see that Jay wasn't 100% joking. If only we could finally have some kind of victory against Elena. That might finally restore his faith.

In my experience, faith makes a guy so much happier. That's why, years ago, I realized that Supernatural was right on the money when Castiel, who'd temporarily become God (if you haven't seen it, don't ask), declared he was "utterly indifferent to sexual orientation." It helped me come to terms with my sexuality that much quicker - although coming out was another story.

As for Jay...well, everyone's different. But I'll also supply another quote, this one from Independence Day: "Everyone loses faith at some point in their life." The implication, I think, being that everyone regains it at some point too.

What can I say? I only want my friends and loved ones to be happy.

Yes, I count Jay as a loved one, in the same way I count Evan and Adele and Michelle and Kevin and Jeremy. And Morgan, whom we only wish could be here right now. And Aimee, though our bond's a little deeper and more romantic.

But I love them all. I really do. They're the best friends I'll ever have.