The Skylar Experiment : The "X" in Apex

Chapter Thirty-Three - Funeral

"Morning, everyone." Mr. Kennedy set his papers on his desk. "As you all know, there was an attack Friday at a Homecoming afterparty. I'm assuming some of you, if not most of you, were there to witness the ordeal."

I latched eyes with Luc in the back corner. If anything, he looked more defeated than the rest of the school. His jaw tensed, and he went right back to forgetting about the class and me.

"I am aware that it is difficult being here today," the teacher continued solemnly. "We lost many students and even a pair of officers." At that, a sob escaped Diana Reed. She got up and stormed out of the class, not bothering to take her stuff. Mr. Kennedy paused and nodded curtly.

He gazed at me for a brief second, almost like the blame was branded on my forehead.

I didn't conceal the fading scratch on my eye to anyone, not even Dad, because nobody would question where it came from. Like several others, my arms were riddled with them.

"But it is important to remember that there is life after the people we know leave us. We must have the strength to grieve appropriately. I hope we can recover our fellow friends through the search party to hold a funeral, and maybe... Maybe find peace."

I looked over at Diana's desk.

The one next to hers was also empty—Anya's spot. I thought of how I'd seen her not long ago, in shambles, drunkenly stressing over how nobody understood what she was going through, and I felt nauseous.

Seven students and two police officers turned out to be the final death toll. Classes had been dismissed on Monday and Tuesday. Nobody wanted to return while the bodies were still warm.

Nine lives, and I played a part. With Georgia, the grand tally became ten.

Emma's seat at my right was unoccupied because she'd just been discharged last night.

She could manage short walks but needed to sit or nap often. In no way was she capable of bearing the state of the school.

In the hall on my way to my locker, Adam's head poked among the crowd. He spotted me and immediately changed routes.

I jumped into his open arms, my chin comfortably settling on his shoulder. He sputtered numerous apologies, his arms tightening as if to reassure himself that I was made of flesh and bones.

"It's okay. I'm fine."

He distanced himself to get a better look. "I heard Emma is coming out of the hospital, but she wouldn't text back."

"She'll be all right." I nodded, fighting off another wave of guilt. "Her mom is staying at home to keep an eye on her. She might be back in class by next week."

"I'm so glad she's okay."

I couldn't imagine the hell it would be like for Emma to return as the only person who lived through the attack. The school blog was posting only about the victims and police reports. People on it would certainly blab about her soon.

As much as it tortured me too, at least I wasn't a spectacle.

Every other period was as depressing as the first. Teachers didn't want to overcharge us with homework, but we weren't particularly overjoyed with the meager consolation. Posters were stuck to the corridor walls to commemorate the victims with heartfelt messages. Students slipped notes in their now vacant lockers.

I had one task at the end of this dreadful day, and it was to hunt down that kid who left the field with my dad's taser.

I hadn't had the courage to admit I'd lost his gift, so finding it was the best option. After asking around, I learned that his name was Abe, and his locker resided on the upper floor.