Ryder POV

Parents run around frantically trying to find their children; they drop to their knees when someone relays that their child is gone.

I don't see Jayda's parents. Did they leave already?

"Are you okay?" I ask Mia once she gets off the phone.

"I'm fine; my dad is flying in now, that goodness for the army plane, he'll be here tonight,"

"That's good," I wipe the blood off the back of my hands.

"Are you okay?" she asks, watching as I scrub the red off my pale skin.

"I'm fine,"

"Just go talk to her; she's right over there; she saved your life, all of our lives,"

When I look back up, my eyes land on Jayda, who is across the lot, sitting on top of a gurney; she's kicking her legs back and forth and looking around. A medic walks up to her and checkouts the gash on her head.

"I can't," She was willing to die for me; she fucking put the gun to her head and told him to shoot.

"She needs you, Ryder. Especially now after what happened,"

She's right; I know she does need me; I'm almost sure she is looking around for me. I want to walk over there, but my legs have become boulders planted on the concrete ground.

I look back at Mia. "I'll be fine, just go," she says, giving me an extra push. Her phone rings; she says it's her dad and then says, "I'll see you okay," before walking away.

I take small steps excusing myself through the crowds of people. I walk past Liam, who is saying something to that girl's parents; I think her name was Violet. They start to cry and then hold each other.

That could have easily been me telling Jaydas parents she is dead. As I get closer to where Jayda is, she turns her head my way, and again we connect. I walk up closer and stand almost between her legs; there's a huge cut going against her forehead when the bullet grazed her.

"It's okay," she says, sensing my worries. She grabs my hand with hers and brings it to the side of her cheek, resting her face in my palm, warming the cold hollowness in me. "I couldn't save him," her eyes go to Roberts's body lying on the ground five feet away; one of the officers comes and zips it up.

"It isn't your job to save anyone," If she thinks it is, she will always put herself in harm's way for others.

Her brown eyes flicker up to me and shine even on a dark day like this. I lean my head down and kiss her. Her lips mold into mine, and though i've been deprived of air all day, her kiss gives me the oxygen I need; her kiss has made me alive again.

Our foreheads rest against each other, and we take in the exhilarating power our kiss always holds. "I love you so damn much,"

"I love you,"

"You shouldn't have done that? You shouldn't have tried to give your life for mine," I would have done the same thing in a heartbeat, but I don't want her doing it for me.

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, if you die; I die, that's it,"

"Jayda,"

"No, Ryder," she places her hand on the side of my face. "We can't be without each other; we can't live without each other," Her other hand rests on the back of my neck; our foreheads are still together, she says...

"So we save each other; it's our thing,"

...

Jayda POV

My mom keeps checking my face and every inch of me. I keep telling her I am okay, but she still searches me, "Are you sure? We can go to the doctors,"

"No, I'm fine,"

"I say we go to our vacation home in Hamptons for the week," My dad suggests. "They already said that their closing school for the rest of the year; you just have graduation, we can come back, I'll pick up your work packet, and we can go,"

"No, I'm fine really," The last thing I need is to go to the Hamptons. I love it there but, I'm not in the mood to live like a king with all that's happening, "I just want to go to sleep," I tell them.

They both say okay and tell me to let them know if I change my mind. I tell them goodnight and then walk upstairs to my room, closing the door. Ryder texts asking if I am okay; he asked me that like thirty minutes ago.

I tell him I love him and that I'm going to sleep. That's sort of a lie; I can't go to sleep yet. I have to do something first. I open up my laptop and then sit at my desk, I gather and download all the files Jess and I had on the AJ thing.

"You're really doing this,"

"I told Robert I would do it, so I am," His death and every other student who died can't die in vain. I think back to the bullet coming through the window and hitting him in the chest. I shift in my seat. I watched him die; he's the second person I cared about that I watched die. I won't let anyone else die.

I type the name Ivy Parker into the computer, the reporter that was asking about Ryder and his family some months ago; her name pops up on the screen; she works for New York Times. I click her contact and find her email address, then attach the files and everything we found out, to the email.

I'm tired of being made fun of.

I'm tired of no one caring.

I'm tired of being ignored.

I'm tired of being unseen yet seen by the oppressors.

Im tired of them getting away with every fucking thing.

A bully is a bully—There's no age limit on it. The staff at my school bullied Sarach into secrecy. The police, the ones who are supposed to protect us, didn't protect or defend her and son. They turned her away when all she wanted was help and for someone to care.

What happened in this town is a secret. No one but the elite knows what really happened; it's the town secret that no one talks about.

Bullies thrive off secrecy. But what do you do when you've been silenced by your school, the community, the people in higher authority?

You take things into your own hands. You go higher.

I type a story that you may be interested in into the subject bar.

My hand hovers over the enter button, "You know what'll happen if you do this," Jess says.

I shake my thoughts, "I know, I don't care," I say and then hit send.

One Weeks Later...

As my door opens, it squeaks, "Jayda," Ryder calls my name.
I groan and roll over, pulling the cover over my head. He said he was coming over at three; it has to be like twelve. My parents came in an hour ago telling me they were going to the store. He shakes me, and I whine, telling him to stop. "It's an emergency," he pulls the cover down and then literally pulls me out of bed.

"Ryder," I shout.

"Come on," he takes my hand, and I follow him down the steps. Thanks to him, I'm now lite-headed. I got out too fast. I ask him what's so important, but he doesn't say anything. He grabs the remote off the coffee table and clicks on the TV, turning to channel five.

"Just look," he smiles at me, and my heart melts.

I look at the TV as he turns it up. There's a reporter standing outside of our school; they've been out there for days, "AJ Crawford, a seventeen-year-old lacrosse star, here at a Crossland high school, committed suicide back in 2011. The boy's mother spoke with us, confirming that the school and parents of the kids who bullied her son did pay her off. The mother also stated that if it weren't for Jayda King, a senior here at the school, she never would have imagined AJ's story being shared with the world,"

My mouth stays open. I wasn't expecting this. I wasn't expecting this at all. I emailed Ivy last week; I didn't hear anything; I just assumed maybe the story wasn't interesting enough.

"Are you going to say something?"

"I... I... your parents,"

"Yeah," he nods his head, "They're freaking out, well my mom is, she didn't even know,"

"You're dad didn't tell her?"

"I guess not, but oh well," he says like it isn't a big deal.

The door opens up, and my mom comes in first, "Guess who was in the driveway?"

Blair walks in, rolling a suitcase in her hand, "Surprise!" she says; her smiles fade when she sees Ryder beside me. "Ew,"

He rolls his eyes and huffs, turning back to the TV. I walk over and hug her, "I thought you were coming next week," I don't graduate till the week after next.

"Well, I got back from Paris early and decided that I wanted to spend two weeks with my best friend,"

"She seems nice," Jess says. "I'm glad you have her,"

I feel guilty all of a sudden.

My dad walks in with a huge balloon in his hand and a cake, "What is all this?" I ask wry. My affectionate parents have really been scaring me lately. He walks over, and I read the words on the cake Proud parents of Cal State Los Angeles Student.

Oh no, I didn't tell Ryder yet.

"Los Angeles?" Ryder questions, "You're coming to Los Angeles?"

I open my mouth, but my father speaks before me, "Yes, she is, on the other side of America,"

He must have forgotten Ryder is also going to be in Los Angeles; Ryder forces a smile, "That's great. The side I'm going to be on, only about what twenty minutes away,"

My father's smile fades at Ryder's sarcasm; my mother calls him over to the kitchen, and he walks away. Ryder calls my name, and I look at him, "How come you didn't say anything?"

"I forgot," I really did.

"Jayda, I've seen you every day for the last week. It just slipped your mind? You just forgot to tell me you were coming to California," I notice the hint of frustration.

"If she said she forgot, she forgot!" Blairs speaks for me, stepping forward.

"I wasn't talking to you," he says to her.

"Guys!"

"Oh my god!" My mom says loud and then walks over to where we are; she picks the remote off the couch's arm and turns the TV up, going to a different channel.

Another news channel is talking about AJ. "Crossland high school isn't new to tragedy; in this year alone, they have another suicide and a school shooting that left 26 dead, along with the shooter. Robert Cade. A student who was severely bullied for years, he returned to school from being homeschooled because his mom wanted him to have real graduation; she now says it is the biggest regret of her life, he was her only child."

The channel switches again, "Mellisa Kings is said to be the mastermind behind the payoff of Sarah Crawford AJ's mother," I look over to my mother, who is watching the reporter intensely. "The name King may sound familiar to you all; she is the wife of Marcus King, who is the CEO of one of the biggest dealerships in the world. Fit For A King,"

My mother and father's phones instantly go off, ringing and ringing, the house phone rings also. I forgot we even had a house phone. Down the hall, I can hear their office phone going off. Dad flicks to another channel, "A source has revealed that their daughter seventeen-year-old Jayda King, has been institutionalized more than once for failed suicide attempts,"

He goes to another channel, a woman is speaking with a reporter; she doesn't look familiar. "Well, if they abandoned their child for months at a time, what do you expect?"

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. He goes to yet another channel, "Ironically, it was Jayda King herself who sent in the tip to reporter Ivy Parker, her and deceased student Jessica Brown, investigated AJ's death themselves for their senior project but was shot down by their school principal, that very day Jessica took her life,"

"Jayda. What did you do?" My mom asks.

"I..." A black van pulls up in front of our house, 10... 20... 30 more than thirty reporters, men and women with cameras and mics show up in front of our home. My pounding heart beats harder. My mom finally answers her phone; my father also does and walks to the window closing the curtains shut to block out the flashes.

I look back at Ryder, "It's going to be okay," he says.

"Wow, this town is fucked up," Blair plops on the couch. "Looks like I came right on time,"

I rest my forehead against Ryder's chest and take a deep breath. What did I do?

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