Despite their strong support in front of Dr. H, the others didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms once we’d left the morgue. I couldn’t blame them for being mad. I’d done a lot of things wrong. But the worst may well have been that I did them by myself. I forgot that no matter what, I was part of a team.
For the next few days, I gave them plenty of space at school. I avoided the cafeteria and ate my lunch out on the patio overlooking the river.
They came around. Slowly.
Grayson was the first. By Thursday, he had migrated out to the patio too. He wasn’t very chatty, but we sat together and watched the boats traveling along the river. Sometimes he’d forget he was mad at me and would make a joke or tell me some odd piece of trivia.
Alex came next. I was sitting in the library one day when he sat down across the table from me.
“Just tell me one thing,” he demanded, a stern look on his face.
I braced for the worst and asked, “What?”
“What’s it like to ride in the aqueduct?” He flashed a smile. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“It’s terrifying,” I said with a relieved laugh. “Absolutely terrifying.”
“But still fun, right?”
“No! It’s not fun at all.”
“Really? ’Cause it seems like it would be.”
A few days later, I was leaving campus after school and I saw that Natalie was right in front of me. I realized that I was going to have to take the first step toward making things better, so I caught up with her.
“I know I said I was sorry,” I started, not waiting for any sort of acknowledgment. “But I also should have said thank you.”
“Why?” she asked, still not looking at me. “For challenging Dr. H and forcing a review board? For getting my team dissolved?”
“No,” I answered. “For being my friend.”
She turned her head ever so slightly, the closest I’d come to any sort of opening.
“I’ve never had a friend before,” I continued, “at least not one that I’d count. And as much as I love being an Omega, and I really love it, it’s nothing compared to how much it means to be your friend.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Her tone was short, but I detected the faintest hint of kindness in her expression. An ever so slight thaw.
“I know. I’m terrible at it. Like I said, this is all new to me. You gave me Omega training, but you should have given me friend training. I could have used lessons like: ‘Five Ways to Show a Friend You Care’ or ‘Things You’re Not Supposed to Do in a Friendship.’ ”
“I’ll tell you the first one,” she answered. “You’re not supposed to lie. Ever. And you’re not supposed to go behind your friend’s back.”
She was being honest. But she was also beginning to warm up a bit.
“What about endangering your friends’ lives?”
“No,” she said, laughing. “You definitely should not endanger your friends’ lives.”
“You see, now I’m getting it. This is exactly the type of training I needed.”
We kept talking until we reached the tram. She swiped her transit card and walked through the turnstile. I was just about to do the same when she turned back to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Swiping my card.”
“For the tram?” she said, in total disbelief. “You’re terrified of the tram.”
“Completely.”
Finally, she looked me in the eye and smiled.
“You would ride this tram? The tram that dangles more than two hundred and fifty feet in the air?” she asked, taunting. “Just to show me how much you want to be my friend?”
“I might scream and pass out along the way, but yes, I would.”
She reached out to stop me from swiping my card.
“You don’t have to,” she answered, to my great relief. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That was earlier this week, which brings me to the St. Andrew’s Prep fencing tournament where this story began.
If you remember (and I tend to ramble, so I know it’s hard to keep up), when I started to tell you about all of this, I was sitting in a bathroom stall with a dead body. That’s where I still am. Trapped and waiting for help to arrive.
It is definitely not the way I expected this Saturday to unfold. As an alternate, my job was supposed to be keeping score for my coach. I was also hoping to get a feel for the strategies used by some of the girls from different schools, because I really want to get good at this.
I didn’t find out I was going to compete until a few minutes before the first bout. (In fencing, the individual matches are called “bouts.”) Coach Wilkes had to turn in our official lineup, and Hannah Gilbert still hadn’t shown up. When he couldn’t reach her on her cell, he gave me her spot on the team.
The fact that I hadn’t had any time to worry about competing in an actual tournament was probably a good thing. There were no expectations and no pressure. Any points I could earn for my team were a bonus.
In my first bout, I fell behind quickly, only to suddenly go on a roll. In an odd way, all the anger, rage, and frustration I had from recent events found their way into my fencing. I didn’t give up a single point in the next two bouts, and before I knew it, I was in the finals.
I was up against Saige Simpson, the top-ranked girl fencer in metropolitan New York. She had already accepted a scholarship to fence at Notre Dame and hadn’t lost a single bout all season. Everyone assumed she was going to kill me. But I knew better. I looked at her and came to an instant conclusion.
She didn’t have a chance.
That’s because the way she wins is through intimidation. Every other girl in the city was scared to face her, and that gave her an unbelievable advantage. But I wasn’t scared. I’d faced Level 3 killers, survived a twenty-block ride in an underground river, ripped an undead man’s arm out of its socket. I mean, the list goes on and on. To me, Saige Simpson is just another girl.
When I won, I don’t know who was more surprised—Saige or my coach. Both had tears in their eyes. My team loved it, and pretty soon they were all pouring bottles of Gatorade on my head, which is why I had to take a shower.
I had just finished showering when the zombie arrived. It was Cornelius Blackwell, still mad about me chopping off his hand. I know I wasn’t supposed to participate in Omega activities, but I didn’t really have a choice. I had to get rid of him. When I was done, I dragged him into the toilet stall and then texted Natalie, Alex, and Grayson for help.
SO NOW YOU’E CAUGHT UP. When we started I warned you that you wouldn’t believe it, but it’s all true.
Also true, I wish I had my vanilla because Cornelius’s rapidly decomposing corpse really stinks. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I’m going stir crazy.
Finally, I hear someone come into the locker room.
“Molly,” a voice calls out in a whisper. “Are you here?”
“Back here,” I reply. “The handicapped stall at the end.”
I get up, slide the latch, and begin opening the door.
“Are you alone?” the voice continues.
I go to answer as I step out into the bathroom. But then I see him and my heart begins to race. I don’t know how it’s happened, but I am looking right into the cold dead eyes of Marek Driggs.
I try to move my lips but nothing comes out.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes.”