A World Without You(87)

I close the book and brush my fingertips across the mottled cover. My hand is shaking when I pull it back. I slam it on the book, then sweep it off the desk with a roar of frustration and bitterness and sorrow and rage. Black ink or blank pages, who am I to say one is better than the other? Who am I to want to choose for him? Who am I to wish I could?

Who am I at all?





CHAPTER 59




Harold is the only one in the library. He sits in front of a small table, a huge book spread open across the surface, but he’s not reading from it. He’s deep in conversation with himself.

I sit down across from him. His eyes do not flash with recognition, and I doubt he’s even aware that I’m here.

After a while, Harold quits muttering. His gaze shifts down to the book, then up to me.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hi.”

We sit there awkwardly.

“Well?” Harold finally says. “Aren’t you going to make fun of me?”

I lean back. “Have I done that before?” I ask, genuinely unsure of the answer.

Harold shakes his head. “No. But you’re hanging out with Ryan now.”

“Not really.”

“More than before.”

“Before what?”

Harold shrugs. “Before Sofía.”

That was because Sofía didn’t like Ryan.

“Do you know what happened to Sofía?” I ask. I’m not sure what I believe. Do I get to choose what I believe?

Harold is quiet for a while, and then he stares at me with clear, eerie eyes. “She’s gone,” he says simply.

“Yeah, but . . . how?” My heart races. I promise myself that whatever Harold says, I’ll believe. Maybe he has powers or maybe he’s just crazy, but either way, he’s no liar.

“Does it matter?” Harold asks. “She’s gone. She’s not here.”

My chest caves in and my shoulders slump. Maybe the only reason I was willing to believe whatever he said was because I knew he wouldn’t say anything.

The door to the library slams open. “Can you believe this bullshit?” Ryan’s voice calls out, full of rage. “Bo, I saw you come in here. Where are you? Have you seen this shit? I can’t believe they’re going to do this to us!”

I stand up, giving away my location, and Ryan marches over to me. He slams a piece of paper on top of the open book on Harold’s desk. Harold scoots his chair back and scurries to the corner.

“What’s going on? Calm down, man,” I say, staring at Ryan’s face. He’s practically purple with anger.

Ryan thrusts the paper at me. “Read,” he orders.

Dear Parents and Guardians,

We regret to inform you that, after a complicated and in-depth evaluation of our school, the board of directors has decided that the best course of action for our students is that we close at the end of the semester. We are happy to provide references for all students to similar schools, and, of course, we suggest that all students continue their treatments while at home over the summer. Full school and medical records as well as a more detailed report of the situation will be forwarded to you before June 10.

Sincerely,

The Board of Directors of the Berkshire Academy for Children with Exceptional Needs

“They’re shutting us down!” Ryan growls.

My eyes linger on the page, dancing from letter to letter, not comprehending the words they create.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Ryan snatches the letter back. “My parents have already picked out my next hellhole.”

“Hellhole,” Harold repeats, quietly, from the corner.

“Shut up!” Ryan whirls around. Before I can move, before Harold can run away, Ryan grabs him by the collar and yanks him to the book supply closet. He throws Harold inside, flipping the old antique key in the lock and tossing it on the ground. He kicks it violently, the key skidding toward the shelves.

Anger issues.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” Ryan says, turning on his heel toward me as if Harold didn’t even exist anymore.

Narcissism.

“Let Harold out,” I say, trying to make my tone placating.

“Forget that loser—he’s one of the reasons why this school is closing.” His eyes narrow. “And you’re another one.”

Sociopathic tendencies.

I bend down and pick up the iron key from the ground. It’s for one of those old-fashioned locks that can be opened from either side. I think about sliding the key under the door for Harold, but I’m worried what Ryan will do. I can hear Harold in the book closet, quietly conversing with his ghosts. He’s fine—and probably far safer beyond Ryan’s reach. I slip the key into my own pocket instead, promising to come back for Harold after this all blows over.

“Stupid Sofía offs herself, that brings the officials. Harold’s batshit crazy, and so are you, and when they see just how bad you nut jobs are, they close the school.” Ryan punches the end of a shelf, knocking several books to the floor. “After everything I did to stop this from happening . . .”

He kicks a book down the aisle, the pages fluttering open as the cover skitters across the floor. “I bet it was Harold. You keep your crazy under wraps, but Harold is just nuts all over the damn place! No wonder we’re being shut down. This place isn’t equipped to handle such insane losers.”