Once and for All(67)
The minute I got back outside, I dialed him again. This time, it went straight to voicemail without even ringing. Clearly, I was not the only one calling. I pulled up my texts.
PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOU ARE OKAY
No dots. I felt suddenly sick, and lurched over to a nearby trash can, pulling my hair back. But nothing happened. Just people pushing past, talking, on their way to class, like any other day.
Then, a beep. Thank God, I thought, tears springing to my eyes.
ANY WORD?
Jilly. I typed her back NO, then started walking down to the main building, still gripping my phone in my hand. My next class was Western Civ, all the way down by the bus parking lot. It wasn’t until I was about halfway there that I remembered something about my conversation with Ethan that morning.
Said I’d meet Coach in his office before the late bell.
I stopped walking right where I was, causing someone to bump me from behind. They exhaled, then cut around me as I opened my news app. The latest wasn’t hard to find: it was right at the top. BREAKING STORY: SHOOTING AT NJ HIGH SCHOOL. I clicked the link, which took me to a picture of that same school building and flagpole, this time with cop cars parked all around the front of it. Three bullet points, designed for scanning quickly, were below.
SHOTS FIRED JUST BEFORE FIRST PERIOD, AROUND 8:20 A.M.
MULTIPLE VICTIMS REPORTEDLY IN GYM AREA
SHOOTER BELIEVED TO BE CURRENT STUDENT, ACTING ALONE
8:20, I thought. I’d just gotten my Spanish quiz. Ethan should have been in English, trying not to look at the hair of the girl in front of him, which he maintained was so greasy it literally dripped onto his desk. I knew this. I knew everything about him. So how did I not know if he was all right?
The hallway was emptying as everyone went into classrooms and down the nearby staircase. Moments earlier, it had been packed, elbow to elbow, with me just one of a sea of people. Now I stood there, staring at my screen, until all the doors around me shut and I was the only one left, standing alone. I told myself I wasn’t moving until I knew something, that I’d stop time in this interim. Later, it would seem silly that I thought I could do this, have some control over events already unfolded. But I believed in a lot of things, before. I never heard from Ethan again.
CHAPTER
19
“DO YOU want a tissue?” William said to my mother, in an attempt at humor. He nodded at Mrs. Lin’s ample bosom, where a Kleenex was indeed poking out, at the ready. “Because I know where to find one.”
In response, my mother just blinked, trying to hold back the tears of frustration that were brimming in her eyes. Just moments earlier, she’d found out via text that the next week’s wedding, for which we’d done tons of legwork and put down multiple deposits, had been called off. Then, as she was absorbing that news, Mrs. Lin approached and unloaded a loud, shrieking tirade about her sudden, strong dislike of the tulle bows tied on the backs of the chairs, which had been her idea in the first place. It was the latest in a long day of similar takedowns over tiny details; anyone else would have cracked hours earlier. It took my mom until now, almost eight p.m. and three hours past the ceremony, but finally, she’d gotten there.
As William patted her shoulder, moving his hand in that familiar soothing circle, I forced myself to take a deep breath. I hated to see my mother upset. Mostly because it never happened, so it was kind of scary, like the world—or my world—was tilting the wrong way on its axis.
“Louna, I’m fine,” she said to me now, clearly aware of this. “I’m pissed off, not sad. And it’s mostly about the Marlo Wagner cancellation. At least now we know why she bailed on the photo shoot.”
“Being yelled at about the chair bows did not help matters, though,” William said, moving his hand now in the other direction. “Considering we were clear we were against it from the start. Who wants their chair gift wrapped? And then she takes her bad decision out on you? Unacceptable.”
“I hate this wedding,” my mother grumbled, wiping her eyes with a tissue not snatched from someone’s chest.
“And I hate that woman,” William told her. “But let’s look at the upside, shall we? No Wagner wedding next weekend means we can actually go on that freebie trip to check out St. Samara for the Kerr wedding.”
“Oh, God,” my mother groaned. “Are you still even thinking about that? We don’t do out of town weddings. And now you want to try one on an island?”
“Correction. I want to take a free trip to an island under the guise of considering a wedding there,” he told her. “Just think about it. Beach, clear blue water, cocktails with umbrellas, all expenses paid. If you didn’t already deserve it, you definitely do after tonight.”
As if to punctuate this, Mrs. Lin began at that moment to lay into a member of the catering staff. The woman, startled, cowered back, a tray of empty glasses trembling above her. I looked over to the head table, where Elinor Lin was huddled close with her new husband, their heads ducked together, both of them smiling. While part of me wished she’d take responsibility for the tornado that was her mother, I had to admit she looked awfully happy. And God knew she probably deserved it. We’d only dealt with Mrs. Lin for a few weeks. I couldn’t imagine an entire life.
As I thought this, Ambrose walked up to our little confab. “All clear on the fainting junior bridesmaid,” he reported. “I just checked on her again and she’s fine.”