Just don’t let it be my killer—Langston has to live.
I should wait inside my house, where I at least have the illusion of being safe.
I can’t.
Not when I don’t know if Langston is alive, hurt, or dead.
I run out the front door, not giving a damn about my own safety.
My feet are bare; my frayed T-shirt hangs down below my knees, hiding my shorts beneath, and my hair hangs in frizzy blonde waves. None of that matters—only Langston.
“Langston!” I shout, using his name instead
of killer.
I run across the street, slipping between the two police cars that have arrived so far. I hear more approaching sirens in the distance.
I make it across the street. The front door is open. I should wait outside, but I can’t.
I run up the uneven stairs full of cracks. I know each crack by heart, which makes it easy to avoid hurting my bare feet as I run.
Then I’m inside the small house already filled with too many people.
Three police officers.
Langston’s father.
I don’t see Langston.
“Langston!” I shout even though I shouldn’t. I should blend into the shadows for as long as I can before being noticed. As soon as the police officers notice me, they’ll escort me outside, and then I won’t know anything.
The female officer turns at the sound of my small voice. Her lips thin in disappointment as she walks over to me. She squats down so she is eye level with me.
“I’m so sorry,” she starts.
“No,” I whisper. “He can’t be dead.”
I look past her, searching for the boy—the only one in my life who matters, who will ever matter.
She shakes her head.
What does that shake mean?
“Your mother—she didn’t make it. She’s in heaven,” the officer says, putting her hands on my shoulders to comfort me.
I exhale a breath.
I should cry, show some emotion. This woman thinks I’m Mrs. Pearce’s daughter, that I just lost my mother. She’ll let me stay with Langston if I cry.
So that’s what I do. I cry like I just lost a caring mother, instead of being relieved that my best friend is still alive.
The woman pulls me into a hug. That’s when I spot him, and my heartbeat settles.
Langston is standing in shorts and no shirt, revealing his too-thin frame. His hair is a shabby mess on top of his head, and he’s staring down at something.
His mother.
My heart breaks for him. He wasn’t that close to her, but his mom was the only source of affection or love he got at home.