When Shadows Rise | II: The Count

Ch. 22 | Fathoms

🐦

Raph

Over the next few days, the school entered a state of mourning. Not for itself, obviously, but for Cooper Ashworth. According to the school's online page, he had donated generous sums of money to the school to keep several extracurricular activities afloat and for renovations of the cafeteria and gym. Every morning there would be a moment of silence for Mr. Ashworth, to which it'd be broken by the sudden sound of a desk being rattled from someone standing up abruptly and the door bursting open.

Kristy didn't show up to class for the first few days. When she did, it looked like death hugged her and forgot to call back. Her eyes sagged, hair a bird's nest, and she didn't even bother to wear her tie or vest. No one really said anything. Not even the hall monitors— and they were real anal about dress code. From the stares Kristy received when everyone thought she wasn't looking, Raph guessed that no one expected her to be back so soon. Why should she? Her father just fucking died.

But Kristy wasn't the only one who was messed up. April's behavior took an odd turn. . . and by odd, Raph meant that she was a little shaken up than usual. Skittish. Briefly looked at Kristy when she thought no one was watching. She was also usually good for some sarcasm or sass, but recently she looked like how she did that night of Kristy's birthday bash— like she was going to puke. Was she sick?

When they sat together at lunch, something was already wrong: Talia and Mikey already cracked into their meals, except for April. Talia and April made conversation. . . except for April. Raph blinked. April wasn't Miss Bubbly or anything, but she always had something to input. Like the newspaper she loved so much or how dodgeball was the worst game known to mankind (Raph disagreed; the worst game was Yahtzee). At first Raph thought it had something to do with the recent tragedy, but then he changed his guess because it made no sense. Not to call April apathetic, but she didn't let anyone's grief profoundly affect her. Especially not someone whom she wasn't close to. Besides, the changes in her body language didn't indicate so much as distress. . . but guilt? Guilt for what, exactly?

"What's up with you?" Raph asked moments after he sat down.

April flinched like she'd been smacked. "Nothing. I didn't do anything," she smushed her words together.

Talia's expression softened into what looked like worry. Mikey sipped his milk. Raph frowned. April just slumped over the table, laying her head down on her arms. She didn't touch her food. An invisible weight smothered the air around them. Raph, Talia, and Mikey glanced at each other. Pure silence. Except for the disruptive sound of air passed through Mikey's straw that made him sound like a deprived anteater.

"Stop that," Raph snapped, snatching the empty milk carton from Mikey's hand. "Jesus."

Mikey twirled the straw between his fingers. "Excuse you if I want to get every last drop. Not trying to let anything go to waste, man."

"Yes, and I'm sure the cow whose udder was milked to produce that appreciates it."

"What do you have against cows?"

"I don't. I just hate that sound."

"What sound?"

"The sound you were just making. Seriously, if there's nothing to get, then that's it."