Truly, Madly, Deadly

Chapter Six

SIX

There was an electric hum in the air when Sawyer pulled her car into the student lot on Monday morning. Nothing was overtly different; the same cheerleaders were tightening the same bouncy ponytails in rearview mirrors, an impromptu football game had broken out in the back forty, but still something seemed different—alive with an energy that sent Sawyer’s hackles up, sent an uncomfortable prick of fire roaring through her.

Sawyer caught up with Lemon Valour as she beelined toward the brick gym, head bent as her fingers flew over her pink jeweled phone.

“Hey, Lemon, what’s going on?”

Lemon looked up, apparently surprised to see Sawyer standing there.

“You didn’t hear?”

Sawyer shrugged and Lemon stopped, slipping her phone into her jacket pocket. “It’s Mr. Hanson.”

Sawyer felt all the breath leave her body; her skin pinched and suddenly felt too tight, too hot.

“Wh—what about Mr. Hanson?” Immediately she felt his feverish, sour breath on her neck, felt his arms tightening around her waist, and she broke out into a full-body cold sweat. “There were police cars parked out front. Were they here for—did he get—”

Lemon nodded and used her index finger to poke at her eyeliner. “Yep. He’s dead.”

“What?” Sawyer sputtered.

“Dead.” Lemon said it so matter-of-factly. Then her cell phone chirped a jaunty, ridiculous ringtone, and she snatched it up, pressed it to her ear. She cut her eyes to Sawyer.

“Nice talking to you, S. GTG. There’s grief counselors in the main office if you want to get out of trig.”

The click-click-click of Lemon’s heels rang out hollow in Sawyer’s ears as she stayed rooted to the asphalt in the student parking lot.

Mr. Hanson was dead?

Dead.

The word throbbed in her mind.

•••

Sawyer picked her way through the student commons. The final bell hadn’t rung yet, so kids still milled around, some red-nosed and breathing into tissues, most looking around, blank-faced and unaffected. She found Chloe sitting on one of the outside tables, legs swinging as she stared off into space, a hard expression on
her face.

“Hey, Chloe, what’s going on?”

Chloe sniffled, her nose a deep red. “Mr. Hanson is dead.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Hey, are you okay? I didn’t even know you knew Mr. Hanson. I mean other than the occasional ogle.” She tried to chuckle, tried to force some lightness into the conversation.