Her Suicide Note

Chapter Nine

Adrian
I know that what I did was reckless, but the compulsion to do it was too strong. I don't have the guts to tell her how I feel, but maybe if I show her, words won't matter in the end.
It's selfish, I know, but what else am I supposed to do, just keep to myself? I've never felt this way about anyone before. Yeah, she hasn't hit me the last few times I've touched her and her hatred for me has seemed to die down, but she's still raw from losing Lisa. Who knows how long she'll fully recover.
But I have a certain stride to my step as I walk into school Monday morning. If I was able to get her to come to the game, maybe she'll let me take her to the Homecoming dance.
I pass by the trophy case and stop to stare at Lisa and Dylan's pictures. It seems like forever since I've seen these two last in person and I'm surprised I'm able to cope the way I am. I don't feel that different except for the occasional grieving episodes and the fact that a certain number on my contacts list is no longer valid.
I hear faint shouts coming from a few hallways over and break eye contact with Dylan to turn towards the direction of the noise. I wonder what's going on.
Next thing you know, Mason's running-scratch that, sprinting-towards me. There are a few red welts on his cheeks in the shapes of fingers and his right short sleeve is rolled up to reveal long pink scratches that go from his shoulder to the back of his wrist.
"What happened to you?" I know by the serious, wide-eyed look on his face that the situation is serious, but I have the strong urge to laugh and possibly high five the girl responsible for this creative artwork.
"Can it, LaMont," Mason growls which squeezes all the humor out of me. He never calls me by my last name unless it's serious and it hasn't been serious since that call from the hospital saying Dylan had been admitted.
"What is it?"
"Bianca and Nathan." Mason shakes his head as if not quite believing something. "Shit's hitting the fan."
I run after him as he leads me in the direction of the yelling I had heard just moments before. What could Nathan possibly have said or done that made Bianca blow a gasket? I shake my head. I don't understand why he can't just leave the girl alone.
You can't really say anything, my conscience tells me. You won't leave her alone either.
But what I'm doing is nothing to what Nathan's doing, I reason with myself. I'm helping her.
I'm pretty sure she didn't ask for it, my annoying conscience counters. I'm pretty sure people have to come to you for help.
Gritting my teeth, I refuse to respond as Mason and I skid to a halt. Despite the student barricade blocking our way, I can easily see over their heads to the battlefield in the middle. Bianca and Nathan are facing off, their teeth bared at each other like animals with a red notebook between them though it's closer to Bianca's side.
B's Drawing Journal winks up at me as Bianca uses her foot to slide it completely behind her.
"How long have they been like that?" I wonder, also wondering why I see no adults in sight.
"A good few minutes," Mason answers. "Bianca was at her locker looking through that book when Nathan came and tried to snatch it from her. All hell broke loose after that."
I rub a spot in the middle of my forehead, trying not to snarl at Nathan myself. Muttering, "Excuse me," on the way, I push through the throng of people until I'm in the small arena, standing smack dab in between the two enemies.
"Adrian, leave," Bianca snaps, not taking her eyes off Nathan. "Unless you want the same fate, it's just between him," she says it in disgust, "and I."
"No, Adrian can stay," Nathan interjects, loving the way his patronizing tone is getting under Bianca's skin. "After all, he's just as part of this whole situation as the two of us are."
"No, he's not," Bianca quickly sneers and the speed of her reply hurts my feelings a little.
What is going on that she doesn't want me to know about?
"Why can't you just stick your nose someplace else?" Bianca demands. "What, you drive a girl to her death and now you're going after the friend?"
"Lisa's death had nothing to do with me," Nathan protests, his smugness fading.
"It had everything to do with you!" Bianca shrieks. "You know that as well as I do. Why can't you just grow a pair and admit it?"
Nathan takes a jerky step forward, but quickly retreats when I wedge myself even more in between them. He straightens and closes his eyes to take a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, that patronizing sparkle is basically making his irises glow.
"Well, well, well, Ms. Smith, you sly fox." He chuckles. "I love how you just tried to turn this around on me. It's times like these I truly understand why Lisa was in charge of this little duo. You don't have any confidence in yourself. You immediately fold yourself inside out before you take chances on anything, though it's completely understandable that you'd feel wary about this." Nathan gestures between Bianca and I. "After all this is just a game, right? Adrian wouldn't stoop down like this: chase after a girl unless it entertained him. You remember what I said-"
"I remember what you said at the game," Bianca interrupts before I can tell him how damn wrong he is. "Trust me, I remember every word. But like I said before you decided to lose your mind and taunt me, that picture is old."
"It's not that old," Nathan disagrees. "It only dates back to September."
"That's not the point," Bianca says in frustration. "The point is, my feelings between then and now have done a complete 360, things aren't the same anymore."
She spins around to pick up her notebook and tucks a loose piece of notebook paper back into the spiral. "What do you want me to say to you, Nathan?" Bianca questions quietly, though loud enough for Nathan and I to hear. "That you're right? Is that what you want? Is that what I have to do to get you away from me?"
Nathan taps his chin, pretending to think. "Maybe," he muses. "Though messing with you is pretty fun."
Because my back's to Bianca, I don't have time to spin around and catch her in midair as she lunges at Nathan and punches him square in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone makes me cringe even though I've heard my own knuckles make that exact same sound numerous times against other people's faces.
Nathan's eyes become unfocused and he slumps against the lockers.
It's deathly silent in the hall and someone's cough sounds extremely loud in my ears. Me and Mason's eyes instinctively find each other's and we mutter, "Oh, shit."

Nathan's dead. At least I sincerely believe he is. He hasn't moved since Mason and I dragged him-literally, since he didn't deserve to be carried properly-to the nurse's office. He hasn't even so much as twitched a finger, and as I watch the clock tick towards the end of second block, I find myself wondering why I'm here with him.
I should be in PE with Bianca. I should be asking her how she is, if there's anything I can do, what the hell's in that notebook. But no, I'm sitting beside the cot Nathan's lying on, watching three hours of my life pass me by.
"You know, you're a good friend," Mrs. Bates, the nurse, says as she walks out of her office. She moves Nathan's jaw around some. It's really loose from its hinges and I have to look away before bile can rise in my throat. "Yep, that baby's definitely dislocated."
Bianca continues to scare me. She detached a dude's jaw. Just to be sure, I move my own jaw around just in case it did the same thing just by looking at Nathan's.
"You can go back to class now," Mrs. Bates informs me. "I'm calling the hospital. He needs that bad boy wired shut."
I nod, rising from the uncomfortable steel chair that has made my butt numb.
As I pass the main office with its huge windows, I catch sight of Darius Parks sitting in a chair, waiting for Principal Hartley. Darius had offered to take the heat for Bianca before Mason and I had taken Nathan away. He said he could use a few days off from school.
Despite being pissed beyond reason, Bianca still managed to place such a beautiful, genuinely thankful smile on her face that had even cool, calm, and collected Darius blinking in surprise.
"Thank you so much," Bianca had told him. "You don't how much that means to me."
Darius actually blushed as he shoved his fists in his pockets. "It was nothing," he mumbled before turning on his heels toward the office.

I catch Bianca walking down the hallway, coming from the direction of the gym. She perfectly maneuvers around a few people as she reads from a piece a paper, the same piece I saw in her hands a couple of weeks back.
"Hey." I manage to snag her attention, but when she looks up, my heart plummets down into my stomach. She's giving me an icy, indifferent stare-the same gaze she turned my way when we first met in PE. I'm losing her. "Do you think you can do me a favor?"
"What is it?" Instead of a harsh tone, she sounds really tired and her look changes to match her tone. The way she's looking at me now, it's like she wants to fall into my arms and go to sleep.
I don't realize my arms are rising until she seems to snap out of it and straighten. I stick my hands in my pockets and rock a little on my feet. "Do you think you can help me with the math homework."
"You haven't done it?" she asks and a little bit of the old Bianca is back as she raises one of her eyebrows in scolding. "It's due tomorrow, you know."
"I know, that's why I need your help. Please?" I stick my bottom lip out.
"I don't know," Bianca says, scratching her hairline.
"I think you want to say yes," I tell her.
"What makes you say that?" This time, her raised eyebrow is in amusement.
"Because if you say no, I'll get on my knees and scream," I state simply.
She throws her head back and groans loudly. "Ugh, not more drama." I shrug my shoulders as if to say the situation's out of my hands. "Fine. Which house are you and what time should I be there?"
I shake my head, chuckling a little. "Right after school, I'll give you a ride."
She laughs in disbelief. "No way am I gonna be caught dead in one of those rich, preppy boy cars."
I clamp my hands over my heart as if she shot me there. "You hurt my feelings, Ms. Smith," I say.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she replies unapologetically.
"First of all, my car is not one of those stereotypical, spoiled brat cars," I defend. "Second of all, you really need to stop knocking me off so early on. I may surprise you."
"We'll just see," she simpers before brushing past me.