Page 112 of Soul of a Psycho

Right. I just need to breathe. It’s going to be okay. I start to draw humid air through my nose, hoping I haven’t committed us all to our dooms, when my butt touches the smooth chair and I yelp.

Callie gives me an odd look, but I wave it away.I’m fine. We’re all fine.I swallow down the panic.

I let the chair burn through my clothes and force my hands under my thighs to stop their shaking. I don’t know if this is one with a bomb, not that it matters. Cade’s journal outlined the radius of each explosive, and none of us are safe. Regardless, I try to orient myself and remember which chairs are strapped. I wasn’t paying much attention to placement last night, but I think… I think… I think there is one under Callie. Did I look at that one? It was so dark… What if…

The sudden urge to stand up and scream comes over me, to yell for everyone to leave.Get out now.There’s a bomb!I could screech with a strangle. Everyone would panic. There would be chaos. Police would be called. A bomb squad. Graduation would be rescheduled. The muscles in my legs tighten, ready to stand…

But then all the air leaves my lungs.

Cade.

My heart swells and eases, my body sagging at the sight of him. He’s off to the edge of the stage, a demon in a cap and gown, striking against the monochrome day. I want to look around, wondering if anyone has become as captivated as I have, but I can’t tear my gaze away. He’s as stoic as ever, his eyes staring blankly ahead, jaw set. If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t suspect a thing, and I squint to find the indicators. But he looks good, rested even. Shoulders back and chin high. He’s regal,handsomein the cap with the gold tassel on the left. I feel myself relax at his calm demeanor. Did he change his mind?

I let my eyes track down his black robe, taking in how eerily similar it looks to the reaper shroud he wore on Halloween, and then to his fists, clenched and white knuckled at his sides.

And then I spot it.

The indicator.

The tiny device in his grip.

The detonator.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Cade

Itake my place at the podium and force myself to look at the faces before me, their expressions courteously silent and patiently waiting. I always thought I would relish standing above them, holding their lives in the palm of my hand. But now, as I stare at those I spent the last four years with, I realize the dynamic is gone. And these people are just strangers.

I don’t even know the names of half the graduates. And none of them have even really fucked with me since I took a baseball bat to Connor during sophomore year. I think back to the mumbling kid at Briarcreek, the one who shot the quarterback at his school. I remember thinking how paltry it was. He condemned his soul, and he only took out one person? Why not all of them?

But now I see why.

What an overachiever I am.

I stifle a laugh and quickly clear my throat, remembering I’m no longer a ghost, but a very real entity in the spotlight. It’s just… none of this feels real. I feel soberingly bright, like I haven’t since before my father died. It’s a strange kind of disconnect. I’ve always been intrinsically linked with Hillcrest, but now it feels like a bad dream that I’ve just woken up from,

“Good afternoon,” I speak into the microphone.

I even sound different. Not like me. Who am I again? Oh, right. I’m the grim reaper. No. I’m just Cade. Like Sky said. That feels better. More accurate. Why didn’t it feel like this when she said it?

I realize I’m losing my mind, but I can’t chase it. Or am I finding it? What’s real? Oh, yeah.Dearly departed, we are gathered here today..No, wrong words, right place. I snort.

Jesus, I’m unraveling. I grit my teeth and force myself to get it together, focusing on the button in my hand.

“Graduation is a monumental moment—” I start, but then the words halt in my throat.

Ten rows back, on the right and five seats from the end. There’s an angel.

The mic whines at my sudden silence, a high pitch sound that causes me to flinch.

“Graduation is a monumental moment,” I start again, my mouth drier than it was before. “A moment I’ve been waiting for since my sophomore year.”

Why is she here?

“I know that most of you are excited to celebrate the end of your time here, but before we move on, I ask that you use this moment to reflect.”

She knows, and yet she’s here.

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