Dead Girl Walking ― Aaron Minyard

08. icu

i've been playing dead
my whole life
and i get this feeling whenever i feel good
it'll be the last time
― phoebe bridgers

[trigger warnings: mention of/threat of suicide]

♦

THE NEXT MORNING, Wymack called Kevin and Mara over to his apartment. Nicky and Andrew dropped them off on their way to Reddin for Andrew's therapy appointment.

Mara had no clue what it was Wymack wanted to talk to them about. It couldn't be about what Riko had revealed—Andrew had already talked to Wymack about that, and Kevin wouldn't really need to be there if that was the conversation topic. Maybe he wanted an update on Josten's skills on the court? But then, Mara wouldn't be much help in that department, seeing as Abby had only just cleared her this morning before they left.

Whatever it was, judging by the tense look on Wymack's face, it wasn't good.

He offered them coffee, which neither accepted. He stalled by asking how practice was going with Neil; how Kevin's hand was feeling; how Mara's ribs had healed.

Finally, he bit the bullet.

"The ERC called me this morning," Wymack told them.

"About publicizing our recruits?" Kevin asked, his expression predictably annoyed. "I thought we made it clear—"

"It wasn't about the recruits, Kevin," the coach said. His tone was gentle—it was the first time Mara had heard it like that. She was instantly on edge, and judging by how quickly Kevin straightened his posture, he was, too.

"What was it about?" Kevin asked.

Wymack sighed. "It's about the district," he said. "Edgar Allan put in a transfer request. It was approved this morning—they're in the southeastern district effective June first."

For the second time in too short a period, Mara's world shattered.

"That isn't funny, Coach." Kevin's voice came out strangled.

"It's not a joke, Kevin," Wymack said. "You know I wouldn't joke about this."

"But that—" Kevin shook his head. "That doesn't—why?"

Mara's voice was unfamiliar to her ears as she said, "You know why. I said he would come for us."

"Don't—" Kevin cut himself off as he stood, frantic energy driving him to his feet. "They can't—the ERC can't do this!"

"Yes, they can," Wymack said. "Edgar Allan's the only team in West Virginia—it was just a matter of putting it to a vote. The ERC had no reason to say no."

Mara's nails dug into the cushion beneath her so hard she thought she might rip it open.

Kevin shook his head emphatically. "This can't be happening," he whispered, but Mara and Wymack heard it well enough. He started a frantic pace in front of the couch, and Mara watched, clinging to anything that would distract her from the thoughts in her head.

He'll kill me. He'll kill me. He'll kill me.

"Kevin," Wymack said. "Kevin, you need to calm down."

"He's coming for us," Kevin choked out.

"Dammit, Kevin, I said sit down!"

"I won't!" Kevin shot back, panic taking hold of his voice so it came out strangled and twisted. He cradled his left hand to his chest, almost crushing it against his sternum. "How could you let him do this?"