⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF GUN VIOLENCE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Chapter 21

Oh shit!

Guilt began to eat up my heart like it was dessert. A lump sat in my throat while I watched her stand there with the shameful expression remaining on her facial features.

She always asked to play with him at recess, but when he rejected and she ran away crying, I simply shrugged it off. I wasn't the only one who recognized him for how big his heart was.

I was going to say something else, but a loud noise broke the silence. It took a second for my brain to register what it was, but it was a gunshot.

I cursed under my breath. Terror clung to my rapidly-beating heart and tight knots were forming in every inch of my stomach. It felt like I was living inside a nightmare. The hallway fell into a pin-drop silence, save for my heavy breathing and Angela gulping.

The first thing I did was check my surroundings; lockers lining the walls and the bathrooms that were at the other end of the hall. There was another gunshot that sounded like they were moving closer toward where we were.

Another one.

Another one.

My heart was on the fritz. A myriad of worst-scenarios were swirling around at a rapid pace in my head.

There was an active shooter in the school.

Are the boys in their classes?

Did one of them go to the bathroom?

Would they make it back to their class in time?

It didn't seem real to me, but when I slowly rotated my head to gauge Angela's reaction, she was frozen in her spot. Her eyes flitted everywhere from the lockers to the exits before they settled on the direction where the gunshot was heard.

I calculated our next move. The doors were across from us, ten feet away, but the shooter was headed straight toward us. If we hauled ass toward them, he or she would see us and we would become their first victims.

The exits in the opposite direction were off the table because they were guaranteed to hear us running away. There was a door nearer to us, so I instinctively grabbed Angela's wrist to drag her there. She wouldn't budge.

"Get your boyfriend-stealing hands—"

I clamped my hand over her mouth and tugged on her arm harder to get into the room before she got us both killed. It was pitch black in the room, but I didn't bother turning on the lights at the risk of the shooter spotting the light at the bottom of the door. Smelling cleaning supplies and with the help of my phone's flashlight, I realized we were in the janitor's closet.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" I whisper yelled at Angela.

"We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die." Angela whispered to herself as she slid down the wall and hugged her knees to her chest. I rolled my eyes as she rocked back and forth and ran her fingers through her hair.

Silencing my phone and pulling the blinds over the window were the number one priorities as well as locking the door to keep us away from harm. My phone was lighting up with tons of messages sent from the group chat.

Zach:

Is everyone okay?

Kayden:

I'm okay, but Bella's not in class.

Olive:

I'm fine.

Last time I saw her, she was in the hallway with Angela.

I switched to the new messages that Zach sent me privately.

Zach:

Bella, look at your fucking phone!

Where the hell are you?

My fingers typed a message when I returned to the group chat.

Bella:

I'm fine. The shooter was walking straight toward us so we couldn't leave the building. Otherwise, they'd catch us, but I'm in the janitor's closet with Angela. Door's locked, blinds are covering the window and my phone is on silent.

Kayden:

How's Angela doing?

Angela gasping for air caught my attention. I used my flashlight to survey her condition. This looked familiar; the color drained from her face, her eyes were moving frantically as she stared off into space, tears were uncontrollably racing down her cheeks and her hand was gripping her chest to tame the ache. I rushed a reply so they knew she was physically okay.

Bella:

She's okay. Having a panic attack, but physically okay. I'll take care of it.

Stay safe, everyone.

I sat down right next to her and despite her protests, my hand remained on the small of her back. Zach did research when I first started having panic attacks; he would stay with me, take me to a quieter place, ask me if I needed water and spoke in short and simple sentences. He would tell me to focus on the present and to remember to breathe.

"You need water?" I whispered. I reached into my backpack and grabbed the water at the bottom to offer her. She didn't hesitate to snatch the bottle from my hands and downed half the water in one sitting.

"Angela, I'm gonna need you to focus on me right now. Don't think. Just look into my eyes."

She dragged her eyes to meet mine. Her breaths were still coming out shaky and the color completely drained from her face.

"Good. Now take deep breaths for me. Smell the flowers, blow out the candles, smell the flowers, blow out the candles."

Eventually, she was able to maintain steady breaths. The pink tinge returned to her once ghostly-white cheeks and the tears were slowing down to a stop. When she lifted her eyes to meet mine, I noticed the trepidation departed from them. Her brows were now furrowed and her forehead was lined with wrinkles.

"How'd you know what to do?"

"Let's just say, I'm no stranger to panic attacks." It was silent for a few lingering seconds while I kept traced circles on her back.

"You helped me. Even after I yelled at you and accused you of stealing my boyfriend."

I scoffed. "Of course. I still care about you. Despite you acting like—"

"—a bitch?"

I chuckled. "I was gonna say jerk, but we can use your word. Just silence your phone and be quiet so they can't hear anyone in here." I rested my head on her shoulder.

"We're gonna be okay." That was more to assure myself than Angela. We were trying to keep ourselves calm, but a painful lump sat in my throat. My heart was still beating like a jackhammer and my mind kept coming up with questions.

Who is this shooter?

Why are they doing this?

Why us?

Why this school?

What happened to him that made him snap?

This was going to be on the news. We would get our answers soon.

-

Mama:

Are you okay, my love?

We heard the school's under lockdown.

Please tell me you're some place safe.

Daddy:

Princess, please let us know that you're safe.

We're driving ourselves crazy over here.

Bella:

I'm okay, guys. I promise. So are the boys and Olive. Waiting until it's safe again.

It had been hours. Well, not really, but it felt like it had. There was endless waiting. Anxious thoughts took over my mind. The minutes had gone by with me praying that the cops got here as soon as possible.

Fifteen new messages had been sent in the group chat within the last ten minutes, checking up on each other. Kayden had even been asking about Angela every minute to make sure she was handling the situation better.

She was currently on her phone, readjusting herself as her butt was sore.

Garrett:

Trey told me that the school is on lockdown.

Are you alright?

Your friends safe too?

Even after what happened between us, I still care about you.

Those text messages surprised me. Garrett and I haven't spoken since he stormed out of my house yesterday. He was ignoring my texts and all my calls went straight to voicemail.

Trey said he never showed up to school today and they always met before class at their lockers. A wave of relief washed over me reading his name on my screen. I just wanted everything to be okay between us.

Bella:

Everyone's okay. Thank you so much for thinking about us.

Looks like you dodged a bullet skipping school today. You're safe with your parents.

Garrett:

Yeah right lol. I am.

Please keep me updated. I have Trey checking in as well, but keep me updated on your safety.

Bella:

Will do.

"I'm sorry."

My eyes lifted up from my phone to see Angela dropping her phone on her lap and moving closer to be next to me.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted at the party." She gestured toward the bruise on my cheek that was covered in makeup. "For giving you that nasty bruise. I was just... jealous that you have a connection with Kayden that I will never have."

She dropped her head and I could tell she was crying by her hand moving to wipe any tear that fell from her face. In the dead silence, you could hear a cracking sound deep inside my chest.

Picturing myself in her shoes, I would be devastated, for lack of better words. "He doesn't love me and he never will. Doesn't even care about me."

I scoffed. "Are you kidding me? Believe me, he cares about you."

"You don't know that."

"I do. You know the first thing he asked me when I told him I was in the janitor's closet with you? He asked how you were doing." I pulled up the text messages to prove to her she was his first concern. And his second. And his third and fourth.

"I can assure you that those thoughts of him not giving a shit are all in your head. He gives so many shits." I allowed her to take the phone from my hand and watched her gloomy look transform.

Her frown turned into a smile that reached her eyes. She lit up like a kid in their favorite candy store as she continued to read through the texts. I was glad that she was happy now. She now knew how much Kayden still cared for her.

Thanks to the light of my phone screen reflecting off her face, I was able to survey her up and down; those thick-framed glasses I had never seen her wear before today, the blemishes on her forehead and her bright smile.

"You look really pretty, Angela. Without makeup. You should not put any on more often."

A blush spread across her cheeks as she rubbed the back of her neck. Her eye-reaching smile remained and a giggle escaped her lips. Angela lightly grabbed my wrist. "Thank you, Bella. That was really sweet of you to say. You're really pretty too."

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips and my fingers interlocked with hers. After sharing this moment with each other, I had a feeling that we would grow to have a closer friendship.

"Oh. Zach texted you."

She gave me my phone back and I ran my fingers through my hair as I read the message.

Zach:

I hear him.

He's yelling your name.

You don't think it's who I think it is, do you?

Why would he be...?

Crap!

"Gray's the shooter."