Chapter 25

When Chris pulled up to the curb on Monday morning, Hunter was leaning against the parking lot sign.

"Now, who could he possibly be waiting for, I wonder?" Chris said, grinning at him through the windshield. My gaze darted to Hunter, and my heart thudded in my chest when his eyes locked on mine.

"Are you gonna get out or keep sitting there?"

I startled, glancing back at Chris while I fumbled for my things. "Bye."

He laughed as I pushed open the door and slid out. "Uh-huh, sayonara."

Hunter was dressed in all black like usual, and though he was always pale, he looked gaunt and hollow, his appearance almost satanic against the white backdrop. He watched me as I approached, and when I stopped in front of him, his lips curled into a slow smile. "Alice."

He braced himself against the parking lot sign, and when he opened his mouth to say something else, he coughed instead. The sputtering turned violent as he leaned away from me, directing it into the inside of his elbow, and when he surfaced, his eyes watered with effort. A small bead of sweat trailed down his temple. He hadn't worn a coat, but despite the freezing air, he looked warm and clammy.

"Are you okay?"

He swayed in place. "I'm not feeling so well."

"Why are you here?"

He coughed into his arm again. "Cause my stepmom is a raging bitch."

As he brought a cigarette to his mouth, I snatched it from his hand and tossed it on the ground, then crushed it beneath my boot with a little too much enthusiasm. "I don't think that's helping."

He quirked one eyebrow, glancing between me and the squashed cigarette. A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "That is littering."

I gave him one of my best eye rolls. "I didn't realize you were so concerned about the environment with your constant pollution and all."

He grinned. "Do you know how long that will take to biodegrade?"

The sun had shifted from behind a cloud, and his smile was as blinding as its reflection against the white snow. I put a hand over my eyes, shielding them from the brightness. "I actually despise you."

He laughed, strong at first, but it turned into choking and coughing. When it passed, he stepped toward me, winking before he stooped to pick up the cigarette. "I'll save you the guilt."

"What a hero," I grumbled, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder. I looked away from him and focused on the looming building instead. If I maintained eye contact, I'd surely break into a smile, and I couldn't give him the smug satisfaction of winning our repartee. As we made our way across the parking lot, his smile didn't dwindle, especially as he deposited the cigarette butt into the garbage can beside the door. My eye roll was a reflex, and my scowl was a defense mechanism, but he saw through my display as if I was made of panels of glass, and he smiled even wider.

The hallway was crowded with bulky coats and squeaky boots, and instead of veering off to the stairwell, I turned left.

Hunter stopped, his smile replaced with furrowed eyebrows and deep-etched concern. "Where are you going?"

I stared up at him. "What do you mean? To the nurse's office, obviously."

He shook his head, eyes going wide. "I'm not going there."

"Oh, be quiet." I reached for his hand and tugged on it. My heart rate took off at a sprint as soon as my fingers touched his. He hesitated at first, but then he was staring down at the space between us, too distracted by our interlocked fingers to do anything but follow.

We strolled into the nurse's office, still hand in hand, and Mrs. Baker's mouth dropped open. At first, I thought it was because of our hand holding, and I started to let go, but Hunter held on tight, his fingers coiled around mine as though they'd been fused together. But Mrs. Baker wasn't looking at our joined hands; she was staring at Hunter's face.

I had grown somewhat used to the bruising sprawling beneath his eyes, the light purple and touches of green a testament to the way Hunter described his cells fixing themselves without his effort. But unlike me, Hunter wasn't a frequent flyer to the nurse's office, and based on the way Mrs. Baker was gaping at him, she hadn't seen him since Scott broke his nose.

"Good morning, Mrs. Baker." I tried to make my voice as light as possible.

She continued to stare wide-eyed at Hunter but paused to glance at me when I spoke. "Morning, dear ... Hunter ..." She nodded at him, but he stood rigid, giving no indication he received it.

"Mrs. Baker, Hunter is sick, but his stepmom still made him come to school today. He can't go home because she'll be angry about his attendance, but he shouldn't be in class if he's sick." I let that sink in. "Can he lie down in here with you today?"

She nodded. "Yes, of course. You're right. He shouldn't be around other students if he's sick."

I expected Mrs. Baker to bustle around, grabbing her thermometer and setting up a cot, but she stared at Hunter as if she was in a trance. "Hunter, what happened to your face?"

His mouth became a thin, hard line.

I shifted. "He's really sick, and I think that's the most—"

"It's okay, Alice," he said flatly. "Are we going to go through all this again, or can you go take a look at my stepbrother and finally accept it's mutual? My dad is tired of getting calls about my various injuries, and quite frankly, he really doesn't give a shit."

I froze, unaware of how familiar Mrs. Baker might just be with Hunter.

"If you wouldn't mind calling Mrs. Rosin," Hunter went on, "I don't feel like having this whole conversation again later."

"Hunter," I said, and his head jerked toward me as though he'd forgotten I was standing there. His hard eyes met mine, and his hostility thawed into a heavy sigh. Somewhat resigned, Hunter opened his mouth, but Mrs. Baker spoke first.

"You can lie down back here." She shuffled toward the back of the office.

Hunter stood frozen in place, his expression a mixture of surprise, confusion, and guilt. He glanced at me in childish hesitation, and I nodded for him to follow.

She led him to the small room in the back of the office, the same room I always slept in when I needed to stop spinning. I scooted out of the office as soon as Hunter collapsed on the orange plastic cot, and did my best to avoid eye contact with Mrs. Baker. Few people cared enough not to be deterred by Hunter's attitude, and instead of thanking her, I'd stood alongside him and said nothing. I had been in gym that day. I was just as capable of reporting Scott. Like everyone else, I'd witnessed the torment on multiple occasions, and like everyone else, I'd said nothing.

I was almost to the door when her soft voice stopped me. "Alice?"

I hesitated, my sweaty hand gripping the door handle. "Yeah?" I turned around in slow motion.

"Sometimes trusting someone with a secret is giving them permission to do the right thing." Her voice was gentle as she looked at her keyboard instead of me.

My throat went dry, my tongue a beached whale inside my mouth. I swallowed through the drought and heard the choked sound of my voice before considering my words. "Sometimes it's too late."