Twisted by Hannah Jayne(66)

Does this class make you want to die? Check yes/no.

There were boxes to check next to “yes” and “no.” Bex pulled out her pen, marking the “yes” box with a thick blue check and underlining it three times. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at Trevor before folding the note and handing it back to him.

There was another beat, then another note in her lap.

What should we do about it?

Bex replied.

I don’t know. Stage a walkout??

He tossed the note back.

Or maybe…

She looked up when Trevor stood, waving an arm. “Mr. Ponterra?”

Bex could feel her heart flutter. Was Trevor actually going to stage a walkout?

Mr. Ponterra turned, eyebrows raised as if surprised to see an entire class behind him.

“Yes, Trevor?”

He paused, then opened his mouth at the exact moment the fire alarm started to wail from the loudspeaker.

Mr. Ponterra clapped his hands for the class’ attention. “Fire drill, fire drill, everyone! Now line up and—okay, orderly lines. Okay, okay…”

The class stood and interpreted “orderly lines” as “meandering cluster heading toward the door.” Bex grabbed Trevor’s arm.

“Did you do that?”

“Would you believe it was a lucky break?”

She hiked her backpack over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “No.”

“Okay, then let’s just say I have friends in low places.” He winked, his fingers sliding down her arm, then linking with hers. Bex squeezed his hand, enjoying the pinprick-like shivers. They followed their class into the hallway, carried along with the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd. Bex tried to keep her focus on Trevor, on the way his thumb stroked the back of her hand, on the way their hips bumped as they walked but she still searched the crowd, examining every face for her father as the crowd wound out to the designated meeting spot on the back forty.

“Is there really a fire?” someone asked. “Oh my God, did something really happen?”

Nobody answered immediately, and Bex felt a niggle of fear at the back of her neck. Someone jostled between her and Trevor, and he broke hands with her while a line of students trudged through. She whirled when someone called her name, but Trevor still wasn’t there.

“Trevor?” Her voice was swallowed in the din of students talking and the far-off wail of the fire alarms. “Trev?”

She began to walk, then blinked when two teachers rushed by her. She didn’t recognize them. She didn’t recognize the boy who bumped into her or the two girls behind her. Bex turned, anxiety starting to swell.

“Bex?”

She turned, trying to find the person who said her name. It wasn’t Trevor. It wasn’t Mr. Ponterra. The voice was rich and deep, but it was familiar.

“Bex!”

Had he said Bex or Beth?

A man was coming toward her, fast, but he turned before she got a good look at him. But the profile, his hair, his broad shoulders…

Dad?

Another alarm blared. Someone stood up with a bullhorn. Someone was cheering—or was it screaming?

She stumbled over her feet, thought she heard someone mumble, “sorry” or “’scuse me.”

Bex pressed her palm over her chest, felt her heart slamming against her ribs. She was breathing hard, her cheeks and eyes burning. She started to walk blindly toward the school, weaving through the crowd that seemed to swell and push against her.

“Hey, hey, you can’t go in yet. That way.” Someone grabbed her by the shoulder and steered her toward the left. Someone turned, elbowing her in the chin. She stumbled backward and tripped. Bex hit the ground, her tailbone smacking against the packed dirt. She saw a snatch of bright-blue sky before the crowd closed in around her, legs and backpacks and arms closing in on her. She was crying, trying to push herself up, but each time she did someone pushed past her and she felt back down again.

“Trevor!” She stared to sob. “Stop, please, I’m down here! Don’t!”

“Bex?”

Trevor pushed between the crowd, his face appearing at her eye level. He reached out and slid his arms around Bex’s waist. “Move, *s! Someone is down here!”

A few kids stepped away, looking stunned. Most looked annoyed but still moved.

“Are you okay?”

Bex looked around, blinking in the too-bright sunlight. “I-I fell.” She tried to shake Trevor off, feeling instantly embarrassed. “I just tripped and fell, that’s all.”

Trevor kept a tight hold on her, leveling her chin with a finger. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not big on crowds either.”

Someone came on the bullhorn again, and this time, Bex could hear the order. The fire alarm had been cleared; students were told to return to the building and go to their next class. It was now her lunch period. She raked a hand through her short hair.

“God, you must think I’m the biggest idiot.”

Trevor brushed a clump of grass from the knee of Bex’s jeans. “Not the biggest idiot,” he said with a soft smile. “Actually, I kind of think you’re one of the coolest girls I know.”

She felt herself blushing. “Thanks. I guess I don’t really feel all that cool. You know…ever.”

“You’re pretty hard on yourself.”