God, I wish I had my phone now. Which begs the question, “Why haven’t you called 911?”

  Angela rolls her eyes and produces a shattered phone from her pocket. “My mom’s gonna murder me.”

  “She’ll have to get in line,” I say grimly. “Still, they announced a lockdown. Someone called.”

  “So why haven’t the cops raided the place?” Angela shakes her head. “Something’s off.”

  No response comes to mind. I sit back and consider everything. How long was I in the janitor's closet? A half hour? Maybe more?

  Either way, I can’t sit here forever. My body trembles as I stand, peeking through the window to the hall. It takes everything in me not to scream. Mr. Stevens is just outside the door. And he isn’t going home.

  Angela stands next to me and lets out a tiny squeak, shoving her knuckles into her mouth. It does nothing to suppress the vomit, and she barely turns away from me in time. For the second time today, the foul odor of puke floods my nostrils, and my insides churn on nothing. Her heaves fill the class, only getting louder as I reach for the door.

  Angela spits and wipes her mouth. “Where are you going?”

  “I told you.” My hand trembles so hard, the handle rattles. “There’s something I need to check.”

  “What, something she doesn’t want her parents to find if she di–”

  I grab Angela’s shirt collar and slam her into the wall. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

  Angela’s eyes swell to giant brown saucers, and what I’ve done dawns on me. I drop her, letting my bully slump to the ground.

  We stare at each other for a long moment, that crappy school clock ticking overhead.

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  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Angela’s gulp is the first thing the breach our stand off. “How the–”

  “Adrenaline,” I blurt. “You know, moms and cars. Has to be.”

  She eyes me for another moment, rubbing the back of her neck.

  I look away unable to hold her gaze. “Look, I’m going. Can you leave this unlocked in case I need to run back?”

  “No problem.” Angela’s tone that catches me off guard. “I can’t lock it from the outside.”

  “Where are you going?” She smiles and I grit my teeth. “No.”

  Lucy’s meds are none of Angela's business. And after what just happened…

  “I’m sure not staying here alone.” Angela stands and shakes her body, like she can clear the apparent fear in those eyes.

  “Fine.” I open the door and point down the hall. “First fire exit’s down there. You can say hi to the police.”

  “I checked those earlier.” Angela snorts. “Every one I tried has a huge bike chain around it.

  “So go out through classroom window.”

  “We both know the teachers will stop me.” Angela shakes her head. “Why are you trying to ditch me?”

  “Maybe I just don’t feel like getting shoved into a locker right now.”

  “Yeah, right.” Angela rolls her eyes and gives me a look I don’t like. She looks like she’s trying to do her math homework.

  It takes everything to keep my eyes on hers this time. She can’t guess the truth; if anyone would rat me out, it’s Angela. And while we’re standing here, James and his pals are probably on the prowl. He let me go once, but I doubt my luck will hold with his friends. And to her credit, I doubt Angela’s fate would be any better than Mr. Stevens.

  It dawns on me. “You’re worried they’ll find you alone.”

  For the first time ever, Angela shifts on her feet nervously. Her gaze flicks to our old teacher before quickly darting away. I sigh and stare at the ceiling.

  So what if she gets caught. This is Angela. My tormentor.

  “Please, Griffin.” Angela’s eyes grow big and glossy. The sight makes me uneasy. This is Angela; she’s nothing but a bully. I huff out a breath and turn to walk away.

  I nearly step in a single drop of blood.

  That’s all it takes. A single red drop, contrasting against the ugly hallway linoleum.

  I don’t even bother turning around as I say, “Don’t slow me down.”