Faetality |✓|

Chapter Seven, Part Three - Red Rum

When the ten minute bell rang to signal the arrival of first period, teachers turned pupils from away from their classrooms and locked the doors behind them. The entire school was directed to the auditorium, filling the halls with loud whispers, catcalls, and random shouts. I avoided familiar faces and kept my head down as I trudged along. Someone was dead. I wasn't in the mood to fake normal.

The auditorium was a huge space occupied by a large stage that was set before dozens of rows of seats. Grateful that I hadn't yet been singled out by any of my peers, I chose a seat in the far back, closer to the exits. I sat in the dim lighting of the room, nervously twisting the Sorcerer's sapphire beneath my shirt as I contemplated texting Anya. If anyone had the full story of what was going on, it would be her.

"Hey Tammy, want me to sit here so you can cry on my shoulder?" Jack Wheeler looked down at me with a commiserative expression so forced I wanted to punch his face.

"Yeah it is actually. She was kinda saving it for me."

"Actually, this seat is saved, Jack."

"Really? It looks so empty..."

"She's saving it for me, mate." Jack turned to see Kai smiling pleasantly at his side. Jack flexed in his blue and white letterman's jacket, looking as if he just accepted some unspoken challenge. In the end, he backed down.

"Then she's all yours."

"Wow," said Kai, watching Jack go. "Charmer, that one."

"A regular Romeo." Kai didn't answer but flashed me a quick smile before scanning the area for a real seat. "You should sit here," I said, with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. I bit my lip, waiting for his inevitable rejection.

"Ok." Kai grinned. "But only because I really want to."

Something about the way Kai looked at me tugged at the strings of my heart. The feelings I had for him were growing, little by little, but my head told me to stay focused. Now wasn't the time to think about another relationship. "Look, Kai, about what happened on Friday--I was a bitch. Plain and simple."

"You don't have to apologize," he said, with a small smile. "I came at you at a bad time. I should've waited but I wanted to see if you were ok. Are you?"

I thought for a moment. "Actually, no. Not really."

"Well, as lame as it sounds I'm here for you, should you need anything."

I restrained the urge to reach out and brush his dark hair from his eyes. "Thanks, Kai. And that wasn't lame, by the way. You always say the right thing."

"Tamsyn, I--" Whatever Kai wanted to say was cut short by the unpleasant sound of a hand taping against a mic. Immediately, the entire auditorium was silenced as every pair of eyes fastened on the stage.

The principal–Eleanor Fitz–headed the stage. Behind her was a small entourage of faculty members, a few of the women silently weeping. Eleanor, however, retained her usual, perpetual, poise. It was said the woman had superpowers–she could actually smell guilt. Last year, for the senior prank, a chemistry lab was broken into and certain materials were stolen. Not a day later, cleverly made stink bombs were detonated in various sections of the school, and for an entire week the building smelled like sulfur and rotten eggs. In response, Principal Fitz lined up every senior on the school's front lawn, and as she walked up and down the rows, it was with the promise that by the end of her admonishment she would know who the culprits were. And by my honest truth, she did.

"Students." Principal Fitz cleared her throat. "It is with a heavy heart that I share this unfortunate news. Overnight we suffered the loss of one of our own--" Low, quiet whispers spread their way through the crowd. Principal Fitz waited patiently as teachers called for silence. "Dean Taylor, a fine student and an honorable member of the senior class, passed away last night. I realize this may be difficult, but I ask that we give his family and friends privacy in their time of grief--"Principal Fitz's voice was drowned by a swell of cries and exclamations from other students. Shocked, I was frozen in my seat. I couldn't believe what Principal Fitz said. Surely I'd heard the name wrong?

But even so, my heart began to race uncomfortably hard within my chest.

"No. No," My heart raced uncomfortably hard; I raised a trembling hand to my forehead, which had broken into a sweat. The whispering turned to a roar in my head as the sound of Dean's name was repeated over and over.

"Tamsyn? Are you alright?" I felt the pressure of Kai's hand on my arm, and couldn't bear it. It was like someone turned up the temperature on the entire world–my blood was boiling hot and the sweat was forming in buckets.

"I--I need some air." Faint, I rose from my seat and stumbled my way past Kai, lurching into the aisle. I pulled at the neck of my shirt, gasping for air that was rapidly thinning. I found my way to the exit and shoved my whole weight into the door, too weak to open it the right way. The door opened and I staggered through, puffing like a fish on dry land. The world tilted sideways, and I along with it. I crashed to the floor, rolling onto my back with my last vestige of strength. And air.

I stared blankly up at the peaked, grey ceiling and understood that I was past dying. I was dead. So this is it, I thought as my mind and body grew number in unison. This is how I go. No answers, all questions--it isn't fair.

I've never had sex.

I never got to say good-bye.

It's all going so dark...

Westley --

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