Carl. As I awoke in my bed the next morning, I tried convincing myself he was all I would focus on. I had to let Rylee die today. I had to let her die, alone, because today I needed to be with Carl.
I skipped breakfast, running to the early bus. I met Ethan standing outside the school, waiting for me. "Morning," He said, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"Morning." I breathed, shouldering my backpack. "When does Carl enter the school?"
"8:07 AM, every single morning." Ethan stated. "His gun is always in his backpack."
"Have you tried—"
"Yes," He interrupted. "I've tried stealing it, I've tried destroying it, tried evacuating the school... nothing works."
"Then what the hell are we doing here?" I snapped. "If we can't stop him, can't we try saving Rylee instead?"
"Rebecca and Manny." Ethan whispered. "The other kids that died." The silence between us was uncomfortably loud. "I've done everything, Arlea. But what I haven't done is confront Carl about the loop. I didn't even think that could be an option until... Well, you." He straightened and for the first time that morning, looked me in the eye. "That's what we're here to do." He walked ahead, not waiting for me. I swallowed back some words and followed him.
He led me to behind the lockers, where we had a clear view of the entrance. I crouched, waiting patiently, while Ethan stood above me. He nudged me to check my phone. The second we laid eyes on the bright screen the time switched from 8:06 AM to 8:07 AM. Our eyes flickered to the entrance. Nobody entered.
"Are you sure it was 8:07?" I whispered, looking up to his eyes, which were frowning at the entrance, confused.
"Of course I'm sure." He hissed. "Your phone must be lagging." He dug his own phone out of his backpack and read the time silently.
"What does it say?" I whispered impatiently.
"It doesn't make sense." He said, his eyes glued to the screen. I stood, tip-toeing to look over his shoulder.
8:09 AM
"Let's go, Arlea." Ethan zipped up his backpack, finally snapping back to reality.
"Where?"
"If he's not here now, he's not coming." He replied calmly. Students started to enter the school, laughing and chatting with their friends. They gave Ethan and I weird looks, like it was strange to see us together. "We should go." Ethan said quietly.
"But Rylee."
"Rylee's about to have a normal school day while wondering where her best friend is." Ethan said, pulling me out of the school with him.
"And where exactly will her best friend be?" I asked, pulling my arm out of his grip. He turned to face me, his face hard and dark.
"Paying Carl Anderson a visit."
Carl lived in an average house surrounded by other identical ones. There was a small yard out front, scattered with childrens toys, like soft footballs and toy trucks. A motorbike was parked next to it. I recognised that bike. It was in front of the school before the shooting. So strange to think that he had a normal morning, eating his breakfast, heading to school, and zipping up his backpack with a gun hidden in it, about to fire nine shots and kill three kids.
We stepped over the overgrown grass and onto his doorstep. The door was slightly open. Ethan and I exchanged glances. He stepped in front of me, pushing the door open with a slight push from his hand. He peeked inside the dark house.
"What is it?" I whispered. Before I could look inside Ethan blocked me.
"I think there's someone in here." He whispered. "I'll go look."
"You don't know me very well if you think I'm waiting outside." I rolled my eyes and gently moved Ethan, entering the house before him. I heard him curse quietly then follow me.
"Hello?" I raised my voice, making it echo across the thin hallways. Ethan shot a glare at me that got interrupted once we heard glass shattering.
Ethan shoved me aside, picking up a flower vase and holding it tight, making his way to the sound which came from the living room. I saw half empty containers of pills lying all over the place. Not drugs. Medicine.
Carl was standing in the room, holding a broken glass bottle of root beer. He squinted. "Ethan?" His blond, messy hair stood out in the dark of the room. He was probably the same height as Ethan, maybe an inch shorter. His jaw was sharp and his face was scruffy, like he hadn't shaved. "Oh, I thought—"
"Carl." Ethan's voice sounded dark and he raised the vase. "Step back. NOW!" He yelled when Carl didn't follow. Carl dropped the bottle, holding his arms up and stepping back.
"Ethan, what's wrong with you?" Carl yelled, flinching when Ethan took a step closer. "Man, you broke into my house and you're threatening me? The hell did I do?"
"Shut..." Ethan was shaking. "Shut up!" My heart pounded every time Ethan's voice got louder. I took a small step forward, touching Ethan's shoulder lightly. He flinched but didn't look at me. "Arlea, wait outside."
"Ethan, calm down." I held his arm, slowly, moving my fingers down to the vase. I pried the vase out of his trembling hands and held it tightly, but didn't point it at Carl.
"Arlea, you don't understand." Ethan didn't take his eyes off Carl. "He smiled." His wet eyes shined against the one ray of sunlight that escaped through the closed curtains.
"He doesn't know that yet." I stepped in front of him, making Ethan look at me. "I don't think he even has any idea of what's about to happen. Of what did happen." Ethan blinked, taking in what I said, and looked back at Carl.
"Do you?" He asked Carl, his voice cracking. "Is there a gun in your backpack right now, man?"
"No, I swear." Carl snapped.
"That doesn't mean anything!" Ethan yelled. "Your promise means nothing!"
Carl lowered his hands, picking up his backpack, which was thrown onto the couch behind him. He unzipped it, dumping everything out. Ethan ran to the mess on the floor, his knees hitting the carpet as he searched. Carl's eyes stayed on his friend. I couldn't tell what he was feeling. "Nothing." He whispered, defeated.
"Isn't that a good thing?" I knelt next to Ethan.
"Both of you owe me an explanation." Carl spat, gesturing to the glass on the floor and the mess on the carpet. "You broke into my house, dude. You held a glass vase against my chest. You accused me of..." He shook. "Having a gun in my backpack? What the hell do you think I was going to do, be the cause of a shooting? Kill people? Heck, while we're at it, go to class and take some shots at my classmates?"
Ethans eyes were red as they stared up at Carl. I tried breathing, inhaling, exhaling... slowly, while Ethan stood. "Okay, Carl, we have a few questions for you. Like, why aren't you at school right now?" I stood.
He stayed quiet. Ethan stood taller. "Answer her. She said she has questions for you."
"The hell she does." He snapped. "I have some questions for you."
I slammed the vase against a table, breaking the glass in one hit. I shoved the broken vase at him, making him trip back trying to get away. "I'm the one in charge here, Anderson. Everything will be OK as long as you answer my very simple questions. Got that?" He looked up to me from the floor, nodding shakily and trying to make eye contact with Ethan. "He's not going to help you." I shook my head. "If it wasn't for me you'd be dead already, by him." A little lie, but it worked. "Now, why aren't you at school?"
"School hasn't even started yet. Why would I be there?" He refused to make eye contact with me.
"Can you think of any reason why you would be at school at 8:07 in the morning?" I pushed.
"Man, I'm barely there on time." He laughed darkly then saw Ethan's face. "No, I can't think of a reason why I would be there at that time."
"Last question." I lowered the vase and Carl exhaled, like he couldn't breathe before. "Do you, or have you ever, owned any firearm?"
"No."
"A relative? A friend?" I probed.
"No."
"Could you find a way to access or buy one if you wanted to?"
"No!" He shouted. "And why the hell would I want to own a freaking gun?"
Ethan opened his mouth but I stopped him. "Hunting." I placed the vase down and started to leave, Ethan ready to follow me.
"Whoa!" Carl stood. "Is that it? You trash my house, hold a weapon against me, question me, then walk out like nothing happened?"
"It was a vase." I snapped.
"In your hands anything could be a weapon." He shook.
"Shut the hell up, Anderson." I snarled. A sound coming from upstairs made me jerk away from Carl.
"Who else is here, Carl?" Ethan demanded. "I thought your mom had work every day."
"His little brother." I whispered. A little boy hopped down the stairs, holding a SpiderMan backpack and a large truck toy in his hands. "I'm ready!" He exclaimed. His eyes widened in confusion when he saw Ethan and I.
"These are my friends, Tommy," Carl smiled. He shot us a look and I softened, placing an arm on Ethan's warm arm. "This is Ethan and this is..."
"Arlea." I smiled.
"Were you guys playing?" Tommy asked, holding onto his truck tighter.
"Yes, but as you can see, we messed up the living room a bit." I laughed and nudged Ethan. He forced a smile. "Don't worry, we'll help you clean up." I shot a look at Ethan and gestured to his pocket. Ethan rolled his eyes, handing me his wallet. I pressed the bills to Carl's chest. "For the vase."
I held Ethan's wrist and we walked out, Carl following us. Ethen paused. "I thought Tommy lived with your grandmother."
"He's here for a visit." Carl said quietly, helping Tommy with his backpack. "I take him to our neighbours while I'm at school."
"And your mom goes to work every day?" I asked.
"Yes, she does." Carl answered. Tommy looked at Carl, confused. I frowned, but Ethan and I left the house, stepping into the cold air.
"His mom wasn't there." I realized.
"Yeah, she's at work."
"No, I meant yesterday. Tuesday." I pursed my lips. "She didn't come to the school. With all the chaos, she didn't come to the school." It came to me in one second. The way the house was kept, the way there were pills all over the place and the way the staircase was dark, like they didn't use it often.
I ran back to the house, ignoring Ethan's questions and Carls' shouts. My feet hit the carpeted stairs with soft thumps, skipping every other one. I opened the first door. Posters of Marvel and bright red-and-blue bed covers. A small closet and a bin with toy cars. Tommy's bedroom. I opened the next one, with Carl storming up the stairs behind me.
Hospital equipment. A thin bed lying in the middle of the room and machines beeping all around it. A frail, skinny woman lying asleep on the bed. Carl placed a firm hand on my shoulder, and that was all he did, because Tommy was next to him, his wide eyes looking up at his big brother. "Leave." Carl whispered. Ethan's hand was on my wrist, pulling me out of the house.
"His mom is sick," I whispered. "He takes care of his little brother and his mother." I looked at Ethan.
"So why the hell would he shoot up our school?"