September of 2004, in the aftermath of a school shooting, new student Connie Turner avoids the young man who saved her younger brother's life, while battling with a shameful awareness that she is not the same as before the event.
Meanwhile, Max Nat...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I said, 'what are you doing, man? You don't even know me. Can we talk about this?' "
Brandon took a steadying breath. He had been released from the hospital the previous evening and arrived at the police station the following morning for an interview. Flanked by his mother and sister with his dad standing behind him, a protective hand on his shoulder, Brandon Turner felt confident amidst his family.
The detective's pen scratched across her notepad. "Did he respond? The gunman?"
Brandon wet his lips. His father squeezed his shoulder. "Maybe it's too soon to talk about this-"
Brandon shook his head. "No, I need to talk about it while it's still fresh in my brain. He was quiet for a couple minutes. Maybe it was shorter than that, but it felt longer. Then yes, he did respond. He just said 'what'... but I don't know if he was going to say anything else. Max caught him by surprise right after."
He didn't mention that the boy's expression had changed. The dead glaze in his wide, brown eyes had lifted like a cloud. Brandon could see it even then in his mind's eye. His empty expression shifted to realization. The boy appeared almost surprised by the question. He could have killed him. Perhaps there was still a part of shooter that wanted to be stopped.
Regardless, that moment was what saved his life and gave Max Nathan enough time to jump the kid. He didn't want to appear like he sympathized with the shooter. He knew that what he had done was wrong. His parents were livid and understandably so. Anyway, it wasn't sympathy as much as morbid curiosity, which he would definitely never admit out loud.
"That young man is a hero," his dad breathed, the weight of his hand lifting from Brandon's shoulder as he combed his fingers through his beard.
"Max was friends with the guy, right? What was the shooter's name?" Brandon said, casually.
"It doesn't matter what his name is- was," mom snarled, her hold on his hand tightening. "And yes. Max Nathan is a hero."
"You said we could meet his parents today?" Dad asked.
Brandon sensed his sister's posture straighten. Connie's eyes danced away as she pressed her lips together. He knew her well enough to guess that something was bothering her, other than the obvious drama. When he finally caught her eye, he crooked an eyebrow in a silent question. Connie gave a fleeting smile and a faint shake of her head.
The detective clicked her pen and stuck it in her shirt pocket with an engaging smile. "They said they would be happy to meet your family this afternoon."
"I just- I have something to do later," Connie said.
Dad patted her shoulder. "Maybe you could rearrange your schedule just this once, okay sweetheart?"
Connie looked back down at her lap, her cheeks reddening. His older sister was shy, the move had been harder on her than him, though she kept on insisting that she would be okay. She said she could put up with it for a year. Brandon still worried though.
