tw: dark themes, mentions of school shooting, mentions of death, mentions of sexual assault
a/n: so sorry for how long this chapter took. im hoping next chapter will be out much quicker. next chapter will also be first chapter without ophelia present
"Come on, guys! You know the drill! Away from the doors and windows!"
Kerba shouted out instructions. His voice clearly uneasy.
The boys groaned as they came in from PE. They had just began the football unit. It was the only class these athletic boys actually enjoyed.
"Why can't we do this bullshit when I have English?" Luke complained.
"Let's be quick, alright?" Scott said to them, stepping in. "Justin, make sure everyone's inside, then lock the doors." He handed him the locker room key. "You know the protocol."
Justin frowned. He took the key, staring at him. "This is just a drill, right?"
Scott hesitated. Justin saw the anxiousness on the man's face. "They didn't tell me about it. They might've told coach." Scott turned back to the boys rushing in. "Hey, towards the back of the showers, guys! Away from the doors!"
Yes, Justin could tell definitely that Scott was anxious. It was all in his voice.
"Everyone please stay low," Kerba told them.
It worried Scott that he looked worried.
Justin locked the doors quickly. As he did so, a million people flashed in his mind. Everyone at the school.
His stomach dropped.
Ophelia...
Ophelia was in study hall. She would be with Marisa, Tony, Alex, Charlie. They'd keep her safe.
As the boys were moved towards the showers, Diego and Luke both grabbed baseball bats that leaned against the lockers.
An underclassmen boy went to the corner of the shower, falling quickly, pulling his knees to his chest. He started breathing heavily.
Diego noticed. He walked over, worried. "Hey, man. You okay?" He kneeled in front of him.
The kid was scared. He was shaking. "Code Red...Code Red means it's real, right?"
A silence ran through the locker room.
Diego hesitated. "Don't matter. Check it." He gestured around the room. "No windows. Cement walls. If someone ends up getting in here, we...we handle it. No one's getting hurt today."
Scott caught sigh of the boy too. His heart dropped.
He wondered, was Ophelia this scared?
Ophelia was also so worried, also so jumpy. God, she must feel so much worse now.
Justin waited until Diego was done to say, "Let's stay quiet, alright? No talking."
Diego scoffed, standing up. "Why so concerned? Your boy Clay bring someone bigger than a knife this time?"
Justin narrowed his eyes at his teammate. "Just stay quiet."
"You know, I've got a right to know," Diego said, angrily. "I'm definitely on his list."
Justin shook his head. "Not even funny."
"Not shit it's not. So why don't you-"
"Hey!" Scott yelled at them, loudly. "Both of you need to sit down and shut the fuck up! No fucking talking!"
The room quieted in an instant.
Scott's head was running wild with worrisome thoughts.
Why couldn't everyone keep quiet? If they were quiet, they'd end the drill, right?
Kerba eyed Scott for a moment before saying to the boys, "It's best we stay quiet, alright?"
"Is this a drill or not?" Luke asked. The whole class stared at this, waiting for an answer.
Kerba hesitated. "I'll see what I can find out." He walked towards his office, pausing near Scott to say. "Watch your tone, alright? They're scared."
Obviously they were scared. He was scared.
Because he knew Ophelia was scared. But he didn't know where she was. It was freaking him the fuck out.
"No one told us anything about a drill," Scott whispered.
"I know," Kerba said. "Let me just see if I can ring the office. Keep them calm, alright?"
How could Scott stay calm when he was scared, and they were scared, and everyone was scared?
And when he knew that Ophelia, whichever classroom she was in, was probably terrified?
*****
Ophelia continued jiggling doorknobs.
"Oh my god..."
They were all locked. Every single one.
She wanted to knock on one, to call inside, to call for help, but was scared.
What if it actually was a drill, and she got in trouble for skipping class? Her mom would kill her if she started getting phone calls saying she skipped.
Oh god, she didn't know what to do.
"Zach?" she called out, hurrying the way he went. "Zachary?"
She went around the corner. Where was he?
"Zach?"
He was gone.
She tried to think. Where could she go?
The bathroom? No, if this was real, it'd be the easiest place to be found. But if this was real, why the fuck was she standing in the hallway?
She racked her brain for ideas.
The dark room. Tyler had once said the door in the class never locked properly, and people walked in while he was producing photos all the time.
The dark room was on this hallway. She hurried down. She jiggled the doorknob. It was lose. Ophelia dropped her backpack, and slammed the side of her body into the door.
The door flew open.
Taking a deep breath, she ran to the back of the class, to the door to the dark room. She forced her way in, slamming the door shut behind her.
She paused for a long moment, breathing heavily. She tried to slow her heart rate.
She felt worried.
No. Scared.
No.
She felt terrified.
And she just kept thinking, what if this wasn't a drill?
The announcement said it wasn't. But they could've lied, right? God, she didn't know.
She felt a pain in her stomach. She assumed it was nausea, and she tried to ignore.
"Okay...think..."
She grabbed one of the tables with photos laid on it, and pushed it in front of the door.
She stumbled back, going and sitting down in the corner, behind one of the large light posts that was off. She wouldn't be seen back here, right?
But it was just a drill anyway, right?
But what if it wasn't?
Her heart dropped.
Tyler told her about this place.
What if Tyler was the one out there?
"No," she said, out loud.
She shook her head. Tyler was better. He was better now.
But did people ever really get better?
She breathed heavily, trying to calm down.
It was a drill.
It had to be a drill.
Her hand fell to her jacket pocket when she heard her phone ringing. Her hands moved around, scrambling for it.
She felt nothing.
She froze.
Her phone wasn't in her jacket. It was in her backpack.
The backpack...she dropped outside.
"Shit!" she breathed. "Fuck!"
How could she do that? So fucking stupid.
Whoever was out there was going to hear it. They'd see it. They'd know she was in here.
"Fuck!" she yelled again, pulling her knees further to her chest, burying her face in her arms.
She was done for.
She was going to get shot. She was going to die.
She was stupid. And she was going to die because of it.
"Come on, O. You've been through worse."
She snapped her head up. She nearly screamed again.
Because she thought she was rid of this hallucination.
But Montgomery De La Cruz sat in front of her.
*****
"Can I get my phone?"
The question came from the panicked underclassmen.
They were all in the showers, seated, trying to be covered by the walls.
Trying to hide from the looming threat.
Kerba shook his head, sympathetically. "Sorry, Rob. We need to stay low. Okay?"
The boy, Rob, sniffed loudly. He said, shakily, "I just want to text my parents to say goodbye."
Scott winced.
"Hey, hey, none of that," Diego told him. "No goodbyes."
Kerba took a deep breath. "Alright, look. We're all gonna be fine. We just need to sit tight till we get the all-clear."
Scott hoped the teacher in Ophelia's class spoke this calmly. He hoped that teacher would comfort Ophelia, and make sure she wasn't too scared.
Diego scoffed. He gripped the baseball bat in his hands tightly. "Or we nut up and bring the hurt instead of just waiting around like sitting ducks."
Justin motioned to the bat. "What the fuck are you gonna do? Swing at the bullets? Don't be stupid."
Diego glared at him. "At least I'm not a coward."
"So you admit to being stupid?"
"Thats enough," Kerba commanded. "Set an example. Both of you."
Diego scoffed. "I just take offense to being called stupid by a recovering addict who still gets shit-faced at parties."
Scott frowned. Justin was in recovery?
Justin's face fell to an unreadable expression, before anger over took him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He sprang to his feet, running at Diego.
Scott grabbed Justin by the sleeve. "Fucking knock it off!" He shoved him further into the locker room. "Go check the fucking doors again."
Justin walked away, shaking his head.
The two of them double check the doors.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Scott asked.
Justin grit his teeth, briefly glancing back towards the other boys. "I just got a text from Marisa. Ophelia isn't in study hall."
Scott frowned. His heart dropped. "What? What do you mean? Where is she?"
"She doesn't know," Justin whispered. "She's supposed to be in the library. She's not."
How the fuck did they not know where she was?
"So where is she?" Scott repeated.
"I don't know," Justin said, again.
Scott hesitated. "You think she's...out somewhere?"
"I don't know," Justin snapped. "How many times do I need to fucking say it?"
Justin pulled his phone back out. He pulled out his Snapchat, checking the maps. He blew it up as much as possible. "It says she's between two classrooms," Justin said.
"Between?" Scott grabbed the phone, staring at it intently. "Did you text her?"
"Of course I texted her."
Scott tried to open the messages, but Justin snatched it back. Scott caught the glimpse of panic in his eyes when he opened Ophelia's messages.
"I was just checking," Scott said.
"You don't need to be looking at our messages," Justin said to him.
Scott hesitated. It wasn't the time, and Scott didn't know why, but he felt a sting of jealousy. "Why?"
What were they talking about that he couldn't see?
Justin held the phone to his ear, trying to call her. He cursed. "No answer."
"Is her phone dead?" Scott asked.
"If it was dead it wouldn't fucking ring."
"So-So, what?" Scott asked. "Where is she?"
"She might be in a class...She might be in a hall..."
There was a long silence between them.
"This is just a drill, right, Scotty?"
Scott cringed. "...I don't know."
"Can you find out?" Justin asked. "What if not? And she's in the hall?"
"You think it's not a drill?" Scott asked.
"I don't fucking know," Justin said. "But if it's not then that means Ophelia's out there, and Jessica's out there-"
Scott stepped back, his hands going to his head. "This has to be a fucking drill," he repeated.
Justin nodded. "Probably. Right?"
"You guys planning an escape?" Diego asked, scoffing.
Scott and Justin shared a look before heading back to the showers. Justin sat down.
"Calm down, alright guys?" Scott told them.
"Reed, what if this is real?" Diego asked. "You guys are expecting us to sit here and wait to be shot?"
"It's a drill," Scott insisted.
But his heart was beating so hard with adrenaline he could hardly hear himself think.
Then, he heard it. They all heard it.
The room fell deadly silent.
Bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.
Gunshots.
*****
"Do you miss me, O?"
Ophelia cringed, listening to that familiar voice.
It haunted her.
"I'd miss you, if you died," he told her.
Ophelia sniffed, closing her eyes again, burying her face back in her arms. "You're not real."
But he looked real, wearing that damn flannel he always wore. The one she now had at her house, stuffed in her closet. She would look at it every now and then, and a simple glance would feel like a stab in the heart.
Her mind made this hallucination teased her. "I'm not real, just like none of this is real, right? It's just a drill?"
"It's just a drill..." she whispered. "It's just a drill...This isn't real..."
She felt light headed.
"Do you think they'd shoot you?" Montgomery asked her. "Tyler wanted to. Do you think whoever this is will want to kill you too?" She shook her head. "They might. I'm not here to protect you."
Protect her. Is that what he did?
Ophelia shook her head. "It's just a drill."
"Do you think they'll kill your baby?"
She flinched.
Her breath caught in her throat. She felt nauseous again. She slowly lifted her head up.
She watched Montgomery smile, that smug smile she used to be so attracted to. The person she used to cling to.
"Finally got your attention?"
"You're not real," she whispered again, like she was desperate for it to be true. "This is just a drill."
"You want it to die, don't you?" Montgomery asked her, suddenly. He tilted his head slightly. "You want it out of the way?"
Ophelia cringed, and quickly shook her head. Finally, she felt the need to answer him.
"No."
"Then why don't you ever talk about him?" Montgomery asked.
She blinked.
Did she...Did she not talk about her baby?
No, she did. She did, right?
Racking her brain, she couldn't think of an actual conversation she had about her future baby. Just conversations about how hard it was to be pregnant.
Ophelia gulped. "That's not what it is."
"Then why do you pretend he doesn't exist?"
Pretend it doesn't exist? Did she do that?
No. She didn't.
Maybe at school. Maybe with Scott. Maybe...Maybe sometimes with herself.
"I just-I don't want everyone to know."
Why was she defending herself against this hallucination?
And why was he making her so mad?
Montgomery laughed lightly. "Yeah. Okay."
"It's not like that," Ophelia whispered.
It's not like she wanted it dead.
"Why haven't you told Scott?"
She quieted down. "...I don't want him to know."
"Oh." Montgomery nodded. "Cause he'll stop liking you. That makes sense."
Montgomery sat across from her, legs pulled to her chest just like her.
Except she was shaking, vulnerable, scared, and he was completely fine. Exactly like when he was alive, and they would argue. She would be terrified. He would be calm. Because he knew nothing bad would be happening to him, and she couldn't be sure nothing bad would happen to her.
Ophelia flinched.
"No," she whispered, softly. "He's not like that."
"You don't even know him," Montgomery told her. "He was my best friend. I know him."
"He's not like that," Ophelia repeated, softly.
Montgomery rolled his eyes. "Okay. Sure."
"He's not like that," she repeated, again.
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, surely, "Scott loves me."
Montgomery let out a chuckle.
"Yeah, he loves you because he doesn't know you're gonna have a kid. You think boys like that?"
"He's not like that," she kept repeated.
The more she said it, the more she realized she was trying to convince herself, not Montgomery.
"Because he loves you?" Montgomery taunted. "Do you love him, Ophelia? Do you love my best friend the way you loved me?"
She flinched.
Ophelia shook her head, slowly.
"No, Monty," she breathed, lightly.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Ophelia didn't know if she could ever love somebody that way ever again.
"Because you still love me," Montgomery said. His taunting voice so familiar. "I know you do-"
"Stop it!" she yelled. She covered her face with her hands. "Why is this happening? Why am I seeing you?"
"You're guilty."
She looked back up at him. "I'm not guilty about anything!"
"You got me killed in prison."
She flinched. And she wanted to argue. But she couldn't. Because that's what happened.
"You got me stabbed," he told her. "And I bled out. Alone." He started laughing. "Just like how you're gonna be found in here. You're gonna be shot, and you're gonna bleed out. Alone."
She winced.
Montgomery pointed to her stomach. "I guess thats not technically alone, right? You'll both die in here." He let out a humorless laugh. "What a family, right?"
Ophelia sniffed, and rubbed her eyes. They were stinging, and red, and wet.
"I'm not gonna die," she said. "It's just a drill."
"Just a drill..." He laughed. "And Homecoming was just a football game."
"Get out of my head," she whispered, pulling at her hair.
Why was this happening to her?
Why did stuff like this happen always happen to her?
"I know you're wearing my necklace," he said suddenly.
Ophelia's eyes snapped back to his, widening. The necklace. The necklace put on two mornings ago, and never took off. The one she hoped no one had seen. She gulped. "You're in my head. Of course you do. You're just in my head."
"It looks nice on you."
Cautiously, Ophelia brought her hand to the top of her sweatshirt. She reached under, and pulled out that necklace.
'Ophelia'.
"Did you read my note? The one that came with it?"
Slowly, she shook her head.
"But you're wearing it," he said. "Because you love me."
"I...I don't know why I'm wearing it."
"Because you love me," he repeated. "And you know that I knew you better than anyone else ever did."
She cringed. "That's not true."
"You sure?"
She was.
She was.
And, debating it, she realized something.
"I am sure," she said, confidently. "Because-Because Zach bought me the same kind of necklace. And Zach doesn't know me."
Zach had gotten her the necklace with her name on it. A nicer one. And she thought that meant she should give Zach another chance. But Montgomery didn't deserve another chance, so neither did Zach.
"But I knew you," Montgomery insisted. He spoke cruelly when he said, "That's why I know you're only fucking my best friend to feel closer to me."
"What?" She frowned. "Why-Why are you saying that? Why is my head making you say that?"
"Maybe it's something you just didn't want to admit," he said, shrugging.
"No," she breathed, softly. "Scott has nothing to do with you. Or Zach. Or anyone. Scott's mine." She took a deep breath. "I'm not with him for anything. And-And he loves me. Not because of you, not because of anyone else!"
Montgomery started laughing at her. It irked her. "He doesn't know you're a liar, O. All this shit you've kept to yourself. A baby? Nah, that shit'll be the last straw."
She covered her face again. "You're just in my head. You're not real. Why can't I make you go away?"
"I'd stay," Montgomery said to her. "Well, I. would've. You know that. I would've stayed with you, O. Even if it was Dempsey baby like I first thought, I would've raised it with you."
"You're not real..."
"Maybe we would've had a good life together," he said. He laughed. "Yeah, yeah I think we would've."
"No," she said, sternly. That was was certain of. Almost certain of.
"We would've," he insisted. "I was doing better, you know? If you hadn't ratted on me, or gotten me arrested, I would've stayed by you." He laughed. "You and Dempsey broke up anyway. I would've helped you."
"I didn't want you," Ophelia told him. She looked up and glared. "I didn't trust you."
"You would've been such a nerdy mom," he continued. He shrugged, smiling. "But it would've been cute. I would've stayed at my dad's construction company. I could've come home to you and the baby, and we would've been happy."
"No-"
"We could've tried for twins next," he told her, smiling. "And you could've shown them all the movies you like, and we could've watched them as a family when I got home."
"No," she said, again, shaking her head.
"You think you're gonna find someone to love you with a kid? You won't. But I would've. I did."
She ran her hands over her face.
"Can't you just imagine it, O?" he asked her. "We could've taken them to baseball games, to Disneyland-"
"No, we wouldn't have," she tried to say.
"We would've been happy."
She shook her head, but momentarily, she was caught up in the thought.
Maybe they would've been happy.
Maybe she would have been more excited about this baby, maybe she would've talked about it, if Montgomery was here.
Because she talked about having a baby with him before she was pregnant. And they loved the idea. And she was excited.
She wasn't excited now.
And she realized, Montgomery was why. He wasn't here.
Having a baby had always been something she wanted. In the future, not now. But if she had gotten pregnant a year or two ago, when she had the first pregnancy scare with Montgomery, before he hurt her...she would've been happier.
He would've made her happy.
They would've been happy.
Her construction husband coming home from work, maybe greeting her with a kiss. She'd probably have a close by part-time job, and she'd get home early. And she'd take care of them. At least until the kids were old enough the go to school, then she'd go back to college, and start a career.
But she'd still make sure to be home in time to have dinner with them, and spend time with them, and let them know she loved them more than anything else, and especially more than work.
And Montgomery would love her. And they'd be happy.
Her head snapped back up as he started humming.
Humming that deadly familiar tune.
Love Me Tender. Elvis Presley.
The sound was painful.
"Stop..." she whispered, lowly.
She felt like a child, curling up and trying to cover her ears. But of course that didn't help. It was coming from her head after all.
"Stop?" he scoffed. "I'm just helping you out."
She shook her head.
"Don't you turn that song on yourself?" he asked.
Ophelia shook her head. But it was true.
"You do it when you think of me, right?" he asked her. "When you start missing me?"
"I don't," she tried to say.
"You do," he said, nodding. "When you miss me, you listen to that song, and it just makes it easier, right? Brings back all the bad memories so you don't have to care if I'm dead."
She shook her head.
But again, it was true.
She missed Montgomery. All the time.
But one song.
One fucking song could take all that away.
Love Me Tender.
One listen.
And she would stop missing him.
The bad memories would come back. The good memories would go away.
Ophelia would rather feel traumatized than feel the guilt of missing the man who traumatized her.
"It wasn't like that!" she suddenly snapped. "Just get out of my head! Why can't you just-"
Bang. Bang. Bang, bang, bang, bang.
She screamed, covering her ears.
"Yup, just scream," Montgomery said. "That won't lead them here at all."
Ophelia was fucked.
*****
"That shit sounded real."
Scott was on his feet, pacing the locker room.
"Those are fucking gunshots!" Luke yelled. "Someone's out there!"
The strong athlete had never looked so scared.
"We can't just sit back and wait to die!" Diego repeated.
"That's not what we're doing-" Kerba tried to say.
"That's exactly what we're doing!" Diego snapped, standing to his feet. "That's what every fucking class is doing right now. Dude, the person doing this is probably a student! They know where we hide! We can't just sit here and let people get killed."
Kerba tried to settle them down. "Look, all that hero talk? It ain't worth your lives."
"I'm don't hide," Diego snapped, "And I don't run."
"No," Kerba insisted. "You fight as a last resort only. Now go sit the fuck down."
Diego stayed where he was.
"Come on, Diego," Justin tried to say. "People are scared."
Diego shook his head. "Well, I ain't scared. I'm ready to fight."
"Calm down," Scott said, coming up again.
"Why don't you want to stand and fight, Justin? You don't even know where Jessica is, do you? You're okay to just let her die?"
"It might still be a drill," another boy said. "A very realistic, but fucked up drill."
"Why would they do this to us?" asked the young boy from earlier.
"They wouldn't!" Diego said. "That's fucked! They wouldn't put us through all this!" He turned to Justin. "What about Ophelia? Huh? You think she should be dealing with all this right now? Think this stress won't fuck her up?"
"Diego, shut the fuck up," Justin snapped at him.
"You're gonna let her get killed? She's gonna bleed out like Monty-"
Scott reacted suddenly, shoving Diego back, with a push so hard he stumbled back into the wall of the shower.
"Both of you shut the fuck up!" Scott yelled. He ran a hand through his hair, marching back towards the office. He grabbed the phone, and kept trying to make a call. The line wouldn't hold.
"Hey." Kerba stepped in. "I already tried all that. Line won't go though."
"What about 911?" Scott asked, whipping out his own cellphone. He dropped it, because his hands were shaking so much. He had to lean down to pick it up.
"You can try them," he said. "I'm sure if this was real, someone would already be in there way."
But how could he trust that?
"Son, I'm sure this is just a drill," Kerba said. "I've heard they're doing crazier shit now so kids are more prepared."
Scott shook his head, pulling at his hair. "It's fucked up."
They both looked towards the showers when they heard more arguing.
"Shit," Kerba whispered. He hurried back to the boys. Diego and Justin seemed ready to throw hands. "Both of you, back up! We need to be civil! Scott, why don't you and Justin..." Kerba turned. "Scott?"
He walked towards the office, only to stop short when he noticed the office empty.
"Reed?"
*****
Ophelia's phone kept ringing.
She took a deep breath.
She had to grab it. If not, what if whoever was out there heard it, and knew to come for her?
She braved herself.
"You're gonna get yourself shot," Montgomery mumbled. He was standing now, leaning against the table.
She ignored him. Slowly, she made her way to the door. She took a deep breath, trying not to make a sound as she moved the tables away from the door. She creeped across the classroom, nearing the hallway door. Then she cracked it open, peeking out. She saw her backpack right in front of her.
She opened the door, barely, and pushed her arm through, grabbing the bag and pulling it in.
Pulling it closed, she gasped. Then, she replaced all the tables in front of the door. She was breathing heavily as she walked back to the corner of the room, sitting and hiding.
She check her phone. Thirteen missed calls. From Marisa, Scott, Justin, Tony, Scott. About thirty missed messages she didn't bother looking at. She called Marisa back immediately.
"Ophelia!" she answer after half a ring. "Where are you? Are you alright?"
"I'm-I'm okay," Ophelia said. Her voice was shaking.
"Where are you?!"
"I'm in the photography class," she breathed. "I-I didn't know where else to go."
"Oh my god, Ophelia. I was so fucking scared."
"I'm sorry," she breathed.
Montgomery reappeared, sitting back across from her. "Why the fuck are you apologizing?"
"Stay right where you are, I'm gonna come to you."
Her eyes widened. "What? No-"
"It'll be fine. You shouldn't be alone."
"No, no. Marisa, it's not safe-"
"Ophelia, I'm, like, one hundred percent sure this is just a drill. Trust me. But you shouldn't be stressed by yourself right now."
"Marisa, please don't," Ophelia begged. She felt panicked. "It's not safe."
"I promise it's a drill," Marisa told her. "I'll tell you why when I get there. The teacher stepped into the other room, so imma make a run for it. See you soon."
"No! Marisa!-"
The call ended.
"Oh my god," Ophelia breathed. She put her head back in her hands. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."
"Jesus, you're gonna get her killed too."
"Shut up!" Ophelia snapped. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! None of this would be happening if it wasn't for you!"
Montgomery let out a laugh. "Oh, really? Why do you-"
"Shut up!" she screamed. "You're fucking dead, you're supposed to finally fucking leave me alone!"
Ophelia was sobbing now, hard. And it wasn't until she calmed down that she realized he hadn't responded. She looked up.
He was gone.
"No..." she whispered. She shook her head. "No. Wait. Come back."
She hugged herself. "Please. Please. I'm sorry."
She was shaking again.
"I can't be alone. Please, come back."
She'd rather be with Montgomery than be alone.
And isn't that what the problem has always been?
Ophelia grabbed her phone again. She looked through her her calls. She called Scott. It went straight to voicemail. Then, called Estella.
She answered hurriedly.
"Ophelia-"
"Estella! Are you okay?"
"I'm in the bathroom," the young girl said, her voice quiet. "T-Tyler's here too."
That brought Ophelia more relief than she thought possible. Tyler was there.
Maybe this was just a drill.
"Tyler will protect you," Ophelia said. Because she knew he'd be feeling terrible. Oh god, and he was stuck in a bathroom? Her heart felt for him. "You'll be alright. I think it's just a drill."
"But-But you heard the gunshots?"
Ophelia took a deep breath. "Yeah."
She heard Estella starting to cry.
"It's okay," Ophelia tried to tell her. "It'll all be okay."
"I'm so scared."
"I know. Me too." Ophelia said. She shit her eyes tightly. "I love you, Estella. Okay? I love you."
"I love you, O." The younger girl took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry for everything, O. I'm so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about-"
"Ophelia?" There was a knock on the door.
"I have to go," Ophelintold her. "Marisa's here. I'll call you back in a couple minutes."
"Okay," Estella breathed.
Ophelia hung up the phone, she scrambled to her feet. Marissa knocked again. "Ophelia? Somethings blocking the door."
"I'm coming! I-"
Bang.
Bang, bang bang.
Ophelia's feet gave out, and she was on the floor in an instant.
No one had come in. No one at all.
The sound came from outside.
And, suddenly Marisa was silent.
"Marisa?" she barely whispered.
Nothing. Rapid footsteps down the hall, and then silence.
"Marisa?"
Still nothing.
Nothing but silence.
The next thing that came out of Ophelia's mouth was vomit, instantly.
She started hyperventilating.
She was dead.
She was dead.
Marisa was dead.
She was shot.
She was dead.
Ophelia vomited again, a sob coming out of her throat as she gagged.
This wasn't a drill. This was real. And Marisa got shot.
Because Ophelia didn't open the door fast enough.
She had blocked the door with tables, and forced Marisa to stay outside, where she got shot.
"Marisa?" Ophelia sobbed. No answer.
She had to go out. She had to find her.
Marisa would go out to find Ophelia. She had to do the same.
Ophelia thought of the training that took place that day. How to help a friend whose been shot. She had to help Marisa. Ophelia stood to her feet.
She almost tripped. Her feet barely moved.
She got to the door.
"Marisa?" she whispered. Nothing.
Oh god.
"Marisa?"
She was dead. She was going to open the door, and Marisa would be dead.
Because she couldn't open the door fast enough.
Fuck. Fuck.
"How's it feel to cause another person to bleed out?"
It was Montgomery's voice. But she didn't turn around.
She just took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Nothing in front of the door.
Ophelia fully expected to turn her head, and see blood, or Marisa's body.
But there was nothing. Ophelia stepped out. She whispered, "Marisa?"
She turned to look down the hall. "Marisa?"
What if she was bleeding out just around the corner?
"Marisa-Ah!" she screamed, loudly. Someone took ahold of her. "No! No!" Her scream was so high pitched, it hurt her voice. "Please! No!"
The person dragged her back.
"No!" She screamed, thrashing. "Help! Please!"
The person dragged her back into the photography room.
"Help me, please!"
"Ophelia!"
They dropped her. She whipped around, ready to scream again. The fear died in her throat.
"Scott?"
Scott rushed forward, hugging her.
"Oh my god, Ophelia."
She clung onto him. "Scott."
Her nails dug into his shirt.
"I was so scared," he said. "No one knew where you were."
"They shot Marisa!" she said, bursting into tears.
He froze. "What?"
"They shot her," she sobbed. "I couldn't find her."
"Ophelia-"
"She's dead! She's dead!"
"No. I didn't see her."
"I heard it! She's dead!"
"She's okay," Scott said. "I'm sure she is-"
Ophelia pulled away, suddenly. She vomited again.
"Baby, are you okay?" Scott asked her, leaning down, touching her softly.
"Something's wrong," she gasped.
She felt so much pain. Everywhere.
"I know, I know. Just stay calm, we'll-"
She hunched over again. "Something's wrong!" She clutched her stomach.
The burning continued.
"We'll get help soon-"
"Something's wrong!"
"What can I-"
Scott's eyes suddenly fell to her hand, over her stomach.
And he looked at her.
And looked at her.
And for the first time, he saw her. Really saw her. All of her.
Scott froze.
"My stomach is burning," she cried. "I need help!"
Scott was stuck frozen.
"Scott, I need help!"
He snapped out of it. He kneeled down again.
"What hurts?" he asked.
"Everything!"
"Okay! Okay!" Scott bent down, picking her up in his arms. "Okay. I've got you. We're getting out of here."
"I can't breath," Ophelia said, sobbing.
"You can, you can," he told her. "We'll be out in a second. I swear."
Scott forced the door open. He looked both ways, before he started running as fast as he could. He turned the corner, and could see the exit at the end of the corridor. Ophelia hyperventilating in his arms the entire time.
"It's okay," he told her. "We're almost-fuck!"
A man stepped into the hall.
A man with a gun. He was head to toe in tactical gear, the automatic weapon in his hand. Ophelia screamed.
The gun was pointed at them in an instant.
"Wait! Wait!"
Scott nearly tripped over his own feet.
Ophelia couldn't register exactly what happened, because of how fast Scott moved. But suddenly, she was on the ground. And Scott was in front of her, between her and the man.
"Please! Please!" Scott covered her completely. "Stop!"
The man clicked the gun, and Scott fell to his knees, blocking Ophelia.
"Hey, stand down!"
Scott looked up, inhaling sharply. Principal Bolan stepped into the hallway.
"Mr. Reed, what's going on?"
"Oh my god!" Scott breathed. "Oh, fuck! This is a drill?"
"Why are you not in a classroom?" Bolan spotted the girl behind him. "Ophelia?"
Ophelia sat up, clutching her stomach still.
"Ophelia, what's wrong?"
Scott stayed next to her. "I-I think..."
A fast moment passed.
"I think she's pregnant."
Bolan's eyes widened. "Shit! Shit! David, get the nurse here! Call a damn ambulance!"
Scott tried to help her up. She was still crying.
A woman came out, helping Ophelia into another room. Scott tried to follow. Bolan stopped him.
"Mr. Reed, why don't you go back to the gym-"
"What the fuck kind of drill is this?" Scott yelled at him.
"Mr. Reed, please-"
"She said she heard her friend getting shot!"
"It's for realism," Bolan said, calmly. "If a student wanders out of class we let them hear the gun shots, then we escort them to the office-"
"That's fucked up," Scott told him.
"Mr. Reed, you need to go back to-"
"I quit," Scott snapped at him. "I'm done with this fucked up school."
"Scott, please-"
He pushed past him, going into the nurse's office. The woman was trying to console Ophelia. She was sobbing so loudly. Scott watched her clutching her stomach still.
The nurse looked to Scott.
"I can't understand what she's saying, but the ambulance is on her way. Do you want know how far along she is? Did she mention it at all?"
Scott hesitated, staring at her. "Maybe-Maybe like a month."
His eyes fell to Ophelia's stomach as the woman pulled her shirt up.
And Scott wondered, how had he never noticed how big it was?
"No, I think she's at least six months," the woman said. "Shit. They better be here fast."
Scott felt frozen. "Six months?"
"Stand back please," the nurse told him. "Dammit, I told Gary this was a fucked idea."
When the ambulance came, they didn't let Scott on, but he drove behind, hurrying in the hospital as soon as she arrived.
"Excuse me," he said, immediately finding the front desk. "They just brought in Ophelia Tristano. Can you tell me what's happening with her?"
"Are you family?"
"N-No, but-"
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm unable to release any information about her."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
The receptionist frowned. "If you'd like to leave your name, I can wait until she's settled in a room and ask if she'd be okay with you visiting."
Scott nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. Scott Reed. R-E-E-D."
"Alright, Mr. Reed. You can take a seat."
He did. And he waited for forty minutes.
Alone.
Terrified.
He couldn't think straight.
Because when the ambulance got to the school, and they picked Ophelia...Scott swore there was blood in the school bed.
Justin came in.
He spotted Scott, and hurried to him. "I came as soon as I could, man. Someone said she was taken by ambulance? Where the fuck is she? What happened?"
"They won't tell me," Scott said. "I'm not family."
"But what happened?"
"She just...Something was wrong."
"Fuck," Justin hissed. "Look, I got this I'll be right back."
Scott watched Justin go up to the front desk. He spoke for a few minutes, before the receptionist motioned another nurse to take him. Justin then waved Scott over.
He was at his side in an instant.
"Mr. Tristano, I don't have any new news for you," the nurse told him. "But your wife is currently being prepped for surgery."
Scott frowned. Mr. Tristano? Wife? What the fuck?
"Surgery for what? What happened?" Scott demanded.
"Was she in a stressful situation?"
Scott's heart dropped.
"Y-Yeah," Justin said. "She was in this, like, active shooter drill."
The nurse cursed. "Okay. I think it might have been too much for her. We are doing everything we can to reverse this, but-"
"Too much for her?" Scott whispered.
"We are prepping her for an emergency c-section," the nurse finished. "We think her body is trying to force her into premature labor."