Shots Fired!

Chapter Ten: During

Eddie

During

"Eddie! How's it going?" Buck is all smiles, eyes childish and alert. He holds his hand out, expectantly. But I can't shake it- there's this off feeling bubbling up inside of me- something about today feels wrong. 

"Ok, ok. Wow, um, rough night?" He notes, curling his fingers back into his palm. All I can do is stare at him as he slides into the seat next to me, pulling a deck of cards out of nowhere. "The guys and I have a little bet goin'," he continues, "want to buy in?"

I shouldn't be bothered, but I am. The grinding sensation clawing along the pit of my stomach won't go away. I've felt this way before, a few times now. But I don't know how to vocalize it without sounding crazy.

Something bad is going to happen. 

Soon.

"It's kinda-" He catches himself before finishing, "It's like we're not getting any calls." He settles. "Weird, right? I know it's 'bad luck' to say it, so I won't, but it's given me a lot of time to practice poker with the guys. I think I'm getting pretty good."

He has to know I'm not listening, right? I'm radiating 'fuck off' vibes, but this guy is oblivious. He's either determined or stupid, or some weird cocktail of both.

I watch him clumsily shuffle the deck a few times, distributing the cards as if I agreed to play. He keeps the small talk going, a merciless one-sided conversation as I ready my phone. Waiting.

In a minute, I'm going to get a call.

I don't know who. 

I don't know why.

But it won't be good.

"Uh, Eddie. You have to actually look at them to play." His tone is sickeningly sweet and so unassuming. I can't take my eyes off my phone. I need it. I know I do.

"Leave him alone, kid." Nash's gruff voice pulls my attention for a split second. He strides into the kitchen and yanks open the fridge, fishing for something. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Buck falter. Just out of earshot, Hen hums along to Howie. Sweet and earnest.

Everything is so normal.

But all my attention is still on my damn phone.

Who is it going to be this time?

"You expecting someone?"

"Kid," Nash warns again, "find something else to-"

Bre's face and number flash across my screen. My body reacts before my mind, raising me abruptly to my feet as I fumble to answer. Heart hammering, heat retreating from my hands. A large, unwelcomed lump growing in the back of my throat.

"Hello?" Panic tickles my tone. "Mrs. Peters? Hello?" 

Buck snaps his head back in my direction. Nash stiffens. I zero in on the voice on the other line. The sniffling- her sniffling sends sick chills prickling across my skin.

No.

"Mr. Diaz, hi!" She fakes enthusiasm between breaths. I can feel my mind starting to spiral. Anxiety like a poison to my blood. I want to throw up. "I don't know how to say this-" Then don't. My eyes instinctively seal shut, my body begging her not to say the words I'm dreading- the words I've prayed never to hear- "The school is under attack."

"Where's my son!" My heart drops and a flurry of emotions fight to dominate my expression. "Where are you?"

I'm screaming. Rage licks at my skin. I'm hot with heat and only mildly aware of the growing crowd as Bre struggles to assure me they're both safe. My feet carry me in circles around the room. Pacing frantically about as Buck and Nash exchange worried looks.