Time Bomb(57)

“How were you bullied?” she asked. “What happened to you?”

Frankie shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and shrugged. “Usual sports stuff. Someone put mayonnaise in my helmet and spray starch in my jockstrap. That kind of thing.”

“How about you?” Cas asked, turning toward Tad. “Have you been bullied?”

“I’ve had guys bigger than me shove me in the halls and say stupid crap online to me. It’s the way things go. Everyone goes through it.”

“Has everyone been beaten up while other kids videoed what was happening and posted it online instead of going to get help?” Sweat trickled down her cheek. The memory played over and over in her head. “Has everyone had to change schools because once you went back, the same people who broke your ribs were threatening to do the same thing to anyone who was your friend so any friends you had suddenly found new places in the lunchroom to sit and new people to walk home with? Have you been beaten so badly you felt like you were going to die, only to realize how much easier life would have been if you had?”

She held her breath. Her heart pounded harder with every second that passed as she stood there—waiting. For Frankie . . . for Tad or Rashid or Diana or Z to say something.

Sympathy.

Outrage.

Comfort.

Something.

The sound of a helicopter came closer and then faded.

A siren sounded outside, then went silent.

Someone on a bullhorn shouted something that was impossible to understand.

And no one inside the room said a word as Cas waited, understanding their discomfort and hating them for it at the same time.

When it was clear that no one was going to speak, she nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re right,” Rashid said. “Bullying is an easy word, and I feel like I should say something to make it better. But I don’t know what.”

“Neither do I,” Tad said.

Cas blinked. Tears welled up, and she shook her head to ward them off. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have tried to kill yourself,” Z said. “Unless you were just saying that to get attention.”

“Leave her alone.” Frankie stepped closer to Cas.

“She doesn’t want to be left alone.” Z barked a bitter laugh. “If she did, she’d be standing in the corner like Diana over there, pretending none of us exist, instead of letting you all know that for a lot of people, life isn’t about football games and parties and making out in your basement, hoping your parents don’t come down and catch you. Life sucks, and there aren’t any words anyone can ever say that will make that better for me or Cas or the majority of people who don’t have parents who think their crap smells like roses.” Z pushed the desk next to him and strode to the window. “This all sucks.” He hung out the window and yelled, “Do you hear me? If you’re going to blow this place up, go ahead and do it now, because we’re never getting out!”

“You don’t mean that,” Rashid said, looking over at Kaitlin, who trembled in her sleep. At least Cas wanted to think she was sleeping. Kaitlin could be in a coma at this point. How would any of them know?

“Don’t I?” Z looked over his shoulder. “Life is crap, and no one in this building ever gave one damn what was happening in my life until my mother was dead. Who cares about the guy who looks like a screwup and cuts summer school because his mother might die any day and he didn’t want her to die alone? Nah. Just send the mother who the school was told died a letter telling her that her son is going to have to repeat junior year because he didn’t finish precalc. Is it any wonder I came to this place to let Mr. Casey know how much I appreciated his concern for my well-being? Kaitlin thought if I just talked to him, he’d understand how bad things were, but I know words don’t do squat.”

“He’s right,” Cas said, stepping toward Z. “Words don’t make anything better. They’re just the first step, and most people don’t bother to follow through with the others. Words are easy.”

“Yes.” Tad nodded. He pushed up the sleeves of his dirty tux shirt, looked at Frankie, and said, “Yeah. They are.”





1:47 p.m.





Z





— Chapter 41 —


KAITLIN GASPED FOR AIR. Rashid was up and next to her before Z moved to her other side. He held his breath as he watched Rashid check Kaitlin’s pulse before shaking his head.

“What?” Z asked. “What’s going on?”

Kaitlin moaned. Her eyes fluttered, and Z took her hand as he looked desperately at Rashid. Kaitlin’s fingers were ice-cold.

“I don’t know.” Rashid took her pulse again. “She’s still breathing, but it’s getting shallower and her pulse is weaker than it was before. I don’t know what to do.”

“Can you do CPR again?” Z asked. “It worked before.”

“Not unless she stops breathing.” Rashid had given the answer Z knew was coming. He’d spent too much time in hospitals not to. “The swelling in her legs is worse. There’s probably internal bleeding. I just don’t know what more any of us can do.”