Another One Cindirection Story (L.P.)

Chapter 25 - Torn

Liam's POV

The announcement comes early morning over the speakers. I'm tapping my pen on the desk and the boy next to me glares silently, trying to focus on the teacher's words. I stop and lean backwards in my chair. I can't remember the last time I was this bored.

The other kids around me don't look much better than I do. The ones in the front row can barely keep their eyes open. A girl who's had her pen poised over her notebook for the last hour still hasn't written anything from what I can see. I can only imagine how the people in the back are doing. I turn around in my seat and sure enough, no one's awake. The teacher doesn't seem to notice though, he just continues to drawl on in that deep voice of his.

But the announcement wakes everyone up.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your classes, but I have an announcement to make." the principal says. "I have just recently received unfortunate news. A former student of ours, Owen Walson, passed away yesterday. We will be meeting in the gym after first period to honor him. I am incredibly sorry to have to make this announcement over the speakers like this..." he continues on, but I can barely focus on the next few words that come out of mouth. I watch as everyone in the room begins to speak all at once. I didn't know who Owen Walson was, but apparently everyone else did.

No one's asleep now. A girl upfront begins to cry and her friend pulls her into a hug. Even the teacher is frozen, his mouth slightly open, unable to process the news.

I turn to the boy next to me. He doesn't look up, he just continues to take notes.

"Who's Owen?" I ask.

"He graduated last year. He used to be on the football team. He was friends with everyone, if that's why you're wondering why everyone seems to know him." He doesn't look up, completely concentrated on his notes. I notice that he's writing faster than usual.

"Were you friends with him?" I can't help but ask. He presses down on his pencil so hard that it snaps. He finally stops writing and looks at me. His eyes are rimmed with tears and I'm sorry that I asked.

"Isn't everyone?" he responds and gets up. He sticks everything into his backpack and walks out of the class and no one stops him.

The bell rings shortly after and everyone packs up.

We file out of the room silently and pour into the hallway and out the exit into the gym. The bleachers have already been pulled out with a few foldable chairs set out in front of it. There's a podium in the center of the room and adults bustle around. I take a seat near the back with the rest of the class and scan the crowd, wondering where the other boys are seated. I feel a sadness come over me when I find myself searching for Louis. He and I still haven't spoken since the fight.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone into the gym and seated. In the front, people in black suits and dresses organize themselves. After making sure we're all seated, the teachers themselves walk back down the bleachers and join the ones dressed in black. Every seat in the front is already taken up except for five chairs.

I don't have to wonder for long who those chairs belong to because the door swings open and everyone turns. A woman with shoulder length blonde hair walks in followed by three other girls. They're all dressed in identical black dresses. They sit down, leaving the chair closest to the door open.

The door opens again and a girl quickly shuffles in, filling in the last chair. A man I presume is the principal gets up and walks to the podium with his papers in hand. The chatter dies down and everyone waits for him to speak.

"As you all know, Owen Walson passed away yesterday due to cancer. Those of you who were lucky enough to know him know that he was an excellent student and a great athlete. He was a friend to many of us here today and I'm sure that he would appreciate all of us being here together." He clears his throat, overcome by emotions. "There is a lot to say about Owen, but I'll let his family continue with this service." He steps back from the podium and gestures at the blonde woman who came in first.