Page 38 of Wrath

"Sometimes. He could be outside with Jenna—Whatley,” Brennan tells me. “Sometimes they do that."

"Do they date?" asks Landry, who just transferred here last year.

"I don't think so," Cara tells her. "They’re just long-time best friends."

I drape an arm around her shoulders, planning to toy with one of her braids for the benefit of James, who’s a few seats down. Right at that moment, Miller walks by. He's not with Jenna. He's alone, holding a lunch tray.

Brennan whistles then waves at him. Mills holds up a hand but heads the other way.

“Sometimes your bro ditches us for the band dorks.” Brennan chuckles. “I’m just kidding. All of them are my friends.”

Cara leans against me, and I get a long whiff of her girly hair stuff. It makes me feel sick. I try to follow the conversation and eat some of my lunch, but it's a losing battle. I can see Miller out of the corner of my eye, sitting next to some guy with green hair, as I chew a bite of my cold pizza. It sits heavy in my stomach, so I don't have more.

"You must have that high-brow taste in pizza," Cara teases.

"I had a huge breakfast," I lie.

When the lunch bell rings, Miller goes the other way, so I don’t see him as I walk to gym. By that time, I'm so fucked up from my impromptu withdrawal, I can barely get my legs to move as we run laps around the track. My heart's beating way too hard. I try to keep my face neutral so no one can tell, but as I round the corner of the field, I hear a man’s low, "Football? You okay?"

The coach that's overseeing gym today is Hartselle; I think he’s the basketball one.He waves me to him, asks me to remind him of my name, and listens to my bullshit story about hitting my eye on the nightstand.

"Go get some ice from the lunchroom and sit on one of the bleachers till we're back in. I can tell you're off. Got those heavy-looking eyes the way my kids do when they don't feel well."He gives me a kind smile that I don’t deserve.

As I'm walking back toward gym from the lunchroom, everything feels like it's blinking. I don’t like this. I think maybe I should go home, but I remember I don't have a car.

I feel better on the bleachers with the bag of ice. Touching the cold cubes through the Ziplock sorta grounds me.

You can’t go home. You’d get in trouble, I tell myself.You're not gonna lose it at school.

By the time I get to physics, I'm not sure I can believe myself. When I notice Miller in the room, I feel almost relieved. If I pass out or something, at least he knows who to call.

When our teacher steps out of the classroom to make some copies, I rest my head on my desk.

Should have offed yourself last night.

You could still split today.

You could go back to the train bridge. Miller won’t save you this time.

When the teacher is back, I walk to his desk and tell him that I need the restroom. Then I find the nearest exit: a steel door that opens to a large field stretched between the school building and the football stadium out to the right.

I spot a rock that I can wedge between the door and door jam. Then I step into the grass and sink down with my back against the building. I cross my legs and lean my head on the brick wall.

I'm so stupid.

I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my face against my quads. I rub a hand into my hair, trying to feelnormal.

I don’t.

I’m not.

I feel heavy. Even my heartbeat—heavy. Like it would rather stop than keep on going like this.

Josh

I’ve got a bad vibe the second I step into physics. The room is small, with rows of desks in front and short lab counters arranged like a line of Tic Tacs along the back wall. I’m running late because of my new, sticky locker, so most of the room is full, but I spot Ezra right away; he’s on the second-to-front row.

The only seat that’s vacant is back in the room’s rear left corner. I feel his eyes on me as I move toward it. At least I think I do. I stick my middle finger up without raising my arm, just in case I’m right and Ezra’s looking.

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