Page 24 of Don't Say a Word
Angie Williams
Angie had spent the day at her favorite place—the downtown Central Library.
She’d planned to go to class, but when she started walking toward campus, the southbound bus pulled up and, on impulse, she boarded it. There was a closer library to her apartment, but it was small and the librarian was a bitch. Central was different—massive, quiet, anonymous. No one bothered you there. She could sit for hours and do homework or nothing at all. No creeps asking for money, no one hitting on her, no judgmental glances from librarians.
Today, she’d buried herself in research, reading everything she could find about fentanyl to try and figure out how Elijah had been drugged. Why hadn’t he called for help? Why hadn’t he calledher?
She read about the risks, the symptoms. How to smoke, ingest, or even use liquid fentanyl in nasal or eye drops. Fentanyl was in everything now—cut into pills, powder, dusted on marijuana.
Sometimes people didn’t even realize they were overdosing. They just stopped breathing.
She pictured that happening to Elijah and wanted to scream, cry, demand justice.
Depressed and exhausted, she stayed at the library until three, then hopped a bus back to campus for the volleyball game.
Angie hadn’t missed any of her friend Gina’s volleyball games, even though she technically shouldn’t be on school grounds because she’d skipped class today. But she didn’t want to go home either. Bruce wasn’t the worst of her mother’s long line of boyfriends—he hadn’t tried to get into her pants, for example—but he was a lazy jerk who watched television 24/7 and worked sporadically.
Gina had been her best friend since forever. In fact, she spent more time at Gina’s house than at her own. She loved the large happy Martinelli family. Their house was loud, messy, and full of life. Gina was the oldest of six, including four-year-old twins, but her parents were chill and always invited Angie to stay for dinner. Home-cooked meals beat microwaved pizza or drive-thru burgers any day.
If one of her teachers spotted her, she might get in trouble. But really, what would they do? Give her detention? Make her sit in the library and do homework? She did that forfun.
At least she had until Elijah died.
Now, school felt empty. She didn’t have a homework buddy or anyone to sit with in class. Most of the honors students were uptight, pretentious, or awkward. She didn’t fit in with any of them.
She sat high in the bleachers, as far from the noisy crowd as possible. Most of the kids weren’t even watching, they were just killing time. Maybe some, like her, didn’t want to go home.
Teachers rarely showed up at games anyway. Even if they did, she was good at being invisible.
If you believed you couldn’t be seen, most people didn’t see you.
Volleyball was best-of-five. Gina’s mom had come to the first game, cheering with the twins louder than the pep squad. Gina pretended to be embarrassed, but Angie knew she loved it.
They won the first game. As Mrs. Martinelli gathered up the twins, she waved at Angie. She smiled and waved back, blinking away tears.
Why couldn’tshehave a family like the Martinellis? Why couldn’tshehave a mom who cared where she was and what she did? Gina sometimes bitched about chores and curfew, but she was neveractuallymad that she had responsibilities. Angie wanted to feel more loved than tolerated.
They lost the second game 25–22. During the short break, Angie spotted Mr. Parsons enter the gym and look around. She ducked behind a group of students, hoping he wouldn’t notice her.
Normally, she loved school. Even the classes she didn’t like were better than being at home. After school she and Elijah used to study together in the library until he had to go to work.
But Elijah was gone and no one cared. The police closed the case like it was nothing.Sorry, not sorry, your friend is dead. Don’t do drugs or you might be dead too.
But Elijahdidn’tdo drugs. Sheknewthat. No one listened.
His funeral shredded her. His mom cried quietly the whole time. His uncle gave a beautiful, heartbreaking eulogy. His cousins looked stunned, as if waiting for someone to say it was all a mistake.
She had no idea what to do when the game was over. She’d already spent the weekend at Gina’s and sleepovers weren’t allowed on school nights.
Angiehatedgoing home, but that was really the only option. She wasn’t about to sleep on the street.
Once, during a massive fight with her mom, her mom locked her out of the apartment. Gina was out of town so she slept on Elijah’s patio until his mom found out and let her crash on their couch.
She’d turn eighteen in April, graduate in May, and then she’d be gone.
Maybe college—ASU was an option thanks to her grades andher mom’s total lack of money. But she had no idea what she wanted to do.
Until she figured it out, she’d keep doing what she did best: ignore her mother, avoid whatever asshole she was currently screwing, and hide in the library.
