KNOX
"Are you real?"
For a split second I just blink at her - because no one's ever asked me that before. I mean, sure, my dad doesn't really see me, but he is definitely aware of my existence.
I hope.
She glances down at my hands still on her arms and pulls away. Her eyes are unfocused. Pupils dilated. Like she's halfway between here and wherever her mind drifted off to. I remember when she stormed out of the cafeteria after yelling at that Carl dude and dumping Laura Stain's food tray all over her.
It was funny. At least to me. I hate that girl.
Silence stretches. She stares at me with lost, honey-brown eyes, and I suddenly realize she'd been clinging to my arms like she was trying to hold on to reality itself.
"Y-you were screaming," I manage, voice frayed. My brain is a whole frenzy. I'll take this secret to my grave, but no girl has ever held me like that. Especially not Elara Carter - the withdrawn, shy best friend of Damasen Crane. Even now, with her arms gone, I can still feel the tremor in her hands and the lavender scent in her hair-
Holy shit... she had been shaking.
"Like, really screaming," I go on. "So I came to check and you were just-standing here-and I didn't know if you were fine or not, which obviously you are otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you right no-"
My mouth sprints past my brain. My fatal flaw with humans. Especially when someone's clearly hurting.
"I'm fine."
She cuts me off just as students drift back inside from lunch, saving me from my own tongue. Elara spots them and starts backing away from the hallway where we met. I feel suddenly hollow, like I've just lost something I never really had.
Weird.
She stops, turns back.
"Please don't tell anyone what you saw," she whispers, barely audible over the cafeteria noise.
Something shifts in me. I nod.
She looks relieved - like she trusts me, even though we barely know each other. I mean, it's a small town. Everyone knows everyone. And we were playmates back in kindergarten... not that she'd remember.
I watch her fade into the sea of heads drifting past me. I sigh, head to my locker, grab a few things, and slam it shut - then yelp when a face is suddenly inches from mine, smirking like he just won the goddamn gossip lottery.
"You should've seen the look on your face," Ellis Callahan crows, his stupid curtain bangs falling into his eyes.
"You're an ass, you know that," I snap, shooting him a dirty look before banging my locker shut again.
"Why'd you get so scared, Knoxy? Lost in thought about your little princess in a g-string?" he teases as we head to class. His dark eyes glitter with humor. He's at least two inches shorter than me, yet somehow manages to be aggressively obnoxious.
"What are you talking about?" I mutter. His smirk widens across his freckled cheeks.
"You know what I'm talking about. Don't lie. I saw you making out with Elara Carter just a few minutes ago."
"I was not making out with her." My panic spikes - because if Ellis saw us and got the wrong idea, someone else might have too... and then tell someone else... and eventually her brother Dean hears, and he is not known for chill- he's notoriously aggressive when it comes to his sister. And if some random geek is supposedly making out with her, I'll have half the football team breathing down my neck.
"Yeah, and my mom doesn't cheat on my dad with her ex-husband." He rolls his eyes. "I'm actually happy for you, man. At least now we know you're not completely gay and just bi."
He snorts - classic Ellis Callahan - and I resist the urge to strangle him.
"Shut up, dude." I shove him and he laughs as we round the corner.
"Hey, any comments on our latest post?" I ask, desperate to change the subject. His eyes light up immediately. The only thing he loves more than terrorizing me is our blog about small-town mysteries.
Except we live in goddamn Ashford. Nothing ever happens in this lame hellhole.
"I don't know, man-"
Except something did happen. Last night. When they found Aaron Bryson's body.
I've been stupidly excited. Yeah yeah, may he rest in peace and all that, but if he isn't more interesting in death than in life, someone change my last name.
"A few folks are shocked something like this could even happen here," Ellis says. "Some are even wondering how we got those images-"
"That's what they're worried about?" I cut him off. We stop outside Miss Chandler's English classroom.
"I mean, a boy was found dead... in our small quiet town where nothing ever happens, and instead of asking who killed him, people wanna know where we got the pics."
"Uh, you got the pics," Ellis corrects. "I want no part of that post."
"Traitor."
"Whatever dude. I'm not going to jail over some pics."
He wins that round as we slide into our seats.
Thirty minutes later, an announcement crackles through the speakers:
"Knox Reyes. Please make your way to the principal's office."
Shit.
Mrs. Chandler gives me the look. The whole class watches me stand. I glance at Ellis - he's wide-eyed, surprise or worry or both.
I make my way to Principal Reynolds' office and knock.
"Come in," his deep voice calls.
A moment later I'm sitting across from him.
"You wanted to see me?" I say.
"Yes, Mr. Reyes."
He locks his stern, sky-blue eyes on me. Reynolds is tall, muscular, mid-thirties. Blonde hair always looking like he ran a hand through it five seconds ago. Attractive, I guess - if he ditched the dad-level glasses.
Not that I'd ever admit my principal has more game than me.
"I wanted to ask you about this." He slides some photos across the desk. A black-and-white shot of fog-soaked woods with a discarded iPhone barely visible. Another of a circular red symbol carved into a tree, stained with... something red.
"Do you know what these are?" he asks.
"They're pics," I say, nonchalant, though my stomach knots.
"Yes. Pictures of a crime scene that should not be public. You could get in serious trouble for obstruction of justice."
I look away. Say nothing.
"Your father called."
I snap my eyes back to him.
"I told him you'd take it down." He scribbles something on a paper and hands it to me. "You'll also have counseling with Mrs. Ives. Every day after school. Understand?"
"I understand, Principal Reynolds. I just wanted a stupid story, that's all."
His eyes soften. He and my dad go way back - wedding, my birth, all that.
"Look, I know you want excitement in this town, but you can't stir up hysteria. Let the police work."
I sigh, nod, stand.
"Yes, Principal Reynolds."
"And take down the post," he adds as I close the door.
Why should I listen? It's not like I'm hurting anyone. People deserve to know.
I run a hand through my hair, imagining the disaster waiting at home.
---
"Wow, you got off easy," Ellis says as we leave school later. He waited for me through my hour-and-a-half counseling session - jerk or not, he's a good friend.
"Yeah, wait till I get home. My dad's gonna kill me." I huff. "Not like I did anything wrong."
"Really? Then where'd you get the pics?"
"Stole them off my dad's phone while he was in the shower."
I lock eyes with him.
One beat. Two.
We explode into laughter.
"You're a terrible son," he wheezes.
I don't argue. It feels good to laugh after a whole day of murder talk.
A minute later, silence settles between us, comfortable.
"Hey, Knox," Ellis says quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Is it cool if I stay at your place tonight?"
His tone shifts - real concern.
I raise a brow.
"Yeah, if my dad doesn't kill me."
"It's just... weird at my place. Like I'm being watched."
"Holy shit dude," I gasp dramatically. "You think your mom's ex-husband wants to screw you along side with her-"
I crack up.
"Forget it, asshole." He shoves me - surprisingly hard for someone with little T-rex arms - and I tumble into a bush.
"I'm gonna get you for that, you little shit!"
I chase him down the sidewalk as the sky deepens into dusk.