Revive Me (3 page)

His dark eyes widened in amusement. “Oh babe, trust me. I’m far from being on the welcome committee.” He laughed deeply from the bottom of his throat. “I’m the last person they’d want new kids to be around in this shit hole. I’m what they refer to as a bad influence and a delinquent,” he paused, “their words, not mine.” He grabbed the pizza slice on his tray and took a giant bite. “Look, we don’t even have to talk. How about I sit here and keep you company. If you feel like striking up conversation, we’ll talk. If not, we don’t have to. I’ll sit here quietly and eat my grub.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need company. I’d like to be left alone.”

“I get it. I get it.” I raised a brow. He didn’t get shit. He didn’t get anything about me. If he did, he’d be running for the hills. “You’re sad and you want to be left alone. You basically hate everyone. You’re isolating yourself, but that only makes things worse.”

“Didn’t you just say you’d sit here quietly?”

“I will, just let me say one more thing.” He didn’t wait for me to answer or give him permission. He just kept talking. “After awhile, you’re sucked in, and it’s too late for you to find your way back. Trust me.” I stayed silent and he perked up in his chair. “Look, there’s this party tonight. Come. I recognized you crying on the news at your brother’s funeral. I know what happened to you.”

A daunting memory smashed into my brain. The news vans, I’d lost count of how many, had been parked in front of our house for weeks. Cameras and microphones were shoved into our faces as reporters begged for any comment they could get. The American people loved victims of tragedy, they’d say. Those people, who’d sit in front of their TVs, buy magazines with the appealing headlines, or tweet about our loss, had no idea. We wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, not showcase our pain nationally.

“I promise it will help you get your mind off all your crazy shit going on. At least for a night,” he added. I’d practically told him I hated people, and now he was inviting me to a party?

“Thanks for the invite, but I’ll pass.” I probably sounded like a total bitch, but I couldn’t help it.

He fished a pen from his pocket and clicked it open. “Here’s my number.” He grabbed the napkin from my tray and began scribbling it down. “And here’s the address,” he added, pointing to the sloppy handwriting. “I hope you come out. I give you my word it will help you get out of this funk. The longer you allow yourself to stay this way, the harder it is to get out. I can’t say I know how to get rid of your pain, but I can make you immune to it for awhile.” I stayed quiet. “It was nice to meet you, Tessa.”

He picked up his tray without saying another word, walked away, and joined a crowded table in the center of the room. He ignored the chaos of the people surrounding him at the table and kept his eyes on me like I was the most intriguing thing in the room. But they also looked predatory, like he wouldn’t stop until he had me in his grasps. I quickly looked away, my eyes meeting Dawson’s, before picking up my tray and dashing out of the lunchroom.

Tessa

M
y knees hit freshly grown grass as I settled down onto the ground. I took a deep breath before slowly opening my eyes and staring at the stone in front of me. Panic coursed through my veins every time I saw it. I re-lived the sound of gunshots every time I read the words. Seeing his name etched in the rough stone was like living the nightmare over and over again.

In Loving Memory of Tanner Benson

God called him home to Heaven.

1996-2013

I pushed the long sleeves of my shirt up my arms as sweat began to build around my hairline. “Today was hell without you,” I said, warm tears pricking at my eyelids. “Daisy was a no-show.” I snorted. “But that doesn’t really surprise me anymore.” I traced a finger against his name, back and forth against the rough, gravely stone, until I was sure I had every curve, slant, and space embedded into my brain. “Why did you leave me all alone?” I cried out into the emptiness of the cemetery around me. I was surrounded by the whispers of the trees, the still of the evening, and the hundreds of dead bodies buried around me. And it was the most serene place I’d been in months.

“You should’ve stopped him,” I cried out, bending forward and smacking my palm against the hard stone. The tears fell faster, his name growing blurry through my vision, and I smacked it harder. It had been three months, three long, excruciating months, since he’d been murdered. I fell back down, hitting the ground, wrapped my hands around my head, and shut my eyes.

My body jerked in my chair at the sound of the first gunshot. I suddenly became alert, like everyone else in the classroom, and flinched as another shot reverberated. I shifted in my chair, turning around, and looked at the wall behind me. I was positive they were coming from the room next door.

“What the hell was that?” Dawson asked, getting up from his chair. Everyone’s attention moved away from the wall to him, like he had all the answers. The stutter of the gunshots seared through me. Something wasn’t right. We lived in a small town full of hunters. Guns were normal, but they were usually heard from the woods, not classrooms.

Mr. Higgins’s shoes squeaked as he stormed to the front of the room. “This is code red!” He said urgently. I watched everyone jump up from the chairs and perform the actions of the drill we’d been practicing for years, in case anything like this ever happened. I remembered how we’d goofed around during the procedure like it was a joke. Something like this would never happen around there. We were so wrong.

He went directly to the door, twisted the lock with trembling fingers, and the room went dim with the flip of the light switch. He stumbled into empty desks as he made his way to the other side of the room to draw the blinds.

I froze, my butt planted in my chair, when another round of shots fired and screams erupted. How many shots were fired? I tried to keep up, counting the number of shots and the different tones of the screams, but there were too many.

“Remember the drill,” Mr. Higgins directed. Everyone ducked under their desks.

“What’s happening?” A girl asked, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “We need to make this room seem empty. If there’s a dangerous person out there, and they attempt to come in, do not scream.”

The loud blast of alarms throttled through the room. I finally got up from my chair and dipped down under my desk as my hands went to my ears. That’s when it hit me. That’s when my heart was ready to pound out of my chest, and I went into full, panic mode.

“Dawson,” I whispered urgently, waving him over.

He scurried towards me, got down on his knees, and looked at me. Grabbing my hand, he interlocked our fingers and pressed his lips against my forehead.

“Everything’s going to be okay, babe,” he said, stroking my hair.

I shook my head, swallowing a few times as I tried to force the words from my mouth, but they were giving me a hard time. If I said them out loud, they would be true. They’d be real. It reminded me of the nightmares I’d had as a child, where my mouth would open wide to scream for my parents, but I suddenly had no voice. I’d struggle, cry, and push, but my throat was incapable of sound. I was in a living nightmare.

“Tanner’s in that room,” I finally managed to get out.

His hand tightened in mine as his body completely locked up. He stayed silent, and his eyelids squeezed shut. I quickly pulled my hand out of his, crawled out from under my desk and darted across the room, praying I’d make it to the door before he got to me. I screeched as my body was gridlocked, a pair of hands attached to my waist, and I was pulled away from my destination.

“Tessa, stop!” he hissed into my ear. His hold tightened on me as I fought against him. I’d tear down every desk and chair in my way. I had to save him, or I’d never forgive myself.

“He’s in there!” I shouted, my arm flying towards the door. My voice pierced through the room as I shouted against the alarms. I didn’t care if anyone heard me. I glanced around the room, noticing the looks of shock and dread on people’s faces. Why weren’t they doing anything? Why weren’t they trying to save him?

I pushed against Dawson with all my strength. “If you’re not going to do anything, I will.”

“Tessa, get down and lower your voice,” Mr. Higgins demanded, stalking our way.

I clutched my hands to my chest. “You don’t have to do anything,” I desperately begged, “just let me go in there and help. You can lock the door behind me and none of you will be in harm’s way.” I had no idea what I was going to do when I got out of there, but I’d figure it out. No one moved, and Dawson’s hold didn’t loosen. “Please!” I screamed, kicking my feet against his legs as his hand shot up and covered my mouth.

“Tessa,” he whispered. “Stop it.”

“I’ll stop it when you let me go!” I gave him another kick.

“Please shut up,” a girl whispered from the floor. She was rolled into a ball, her hands over her ears, and a strand of black mascara streamed down her swollen face.

“I’ll be quiet when my brother’s life isn’t in danger. Now let me out!” I was being selfish, but I didn’t care. Saving him was all that mattered in that moment.

I screeched when my body was lifted and dragged to the back of the room. I kept fighting him, my shoes dragging against the floor, as I whipped back and forth in his arms. I was pushed against a wall in the corner of the room and his hands went to my shoulders to push me down until I hit the floor. I glanced up to see him standing in front of me. His nostrils flared and the veins in his neck engorged. He crossed his arms and his heavy frame formed a barrier between the door and me.

“Please let me go,” I pleaded, crying.

“No.”

“Please.”

He bent down on his heels, and an arm went to each side of my head. “Baby, there’s nothing we can do. Help is on the way.” I suddenly realized sirens were ringing out around us. “But you can’t leave this room.” I attempted to do a lame crawl underneath his arms, but he slammed his hand into the wall to stop me. “Quit, just fucking quit it.” His palm pounded against the wall again. “Tanner is a fighter. He’ll be fine. But if I let anything happen to you, if he knows I allowed you to put yourself in danger, he’ll kick my ass and never forgive me. I couldn’t forgive myself, either. I told him I’d always protect you if he wasn’t around, and that’s what I’m doing. Now get the hell over it and stop fucking fighting me!”

Tears poured down my face as my body shook. Dawson’s arm went around my back, and my face hit the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “You’re right,” I sobbed. Tanner was a fighter. He’d get through this. I knew it.

I brushed the tears rolling down my cheeks and stared at the sunset before leaving him. He was gone, and we were all left broken without him. Losing him was the worst pain I’d ever been through. He was my other half. We’d been best friends before we were born. He was my confidante, my protector, my best friend, and my twin brother.

I pulled myself up, passing the aisles of graves to head back to my car, when I noticed it. I visited him every day, but I’d never paid attention to the other headstones. I stopped when I caught a flash of his name, and my eyes narrowed as I looked at it.

Rodney Avila.

“I hope you burn in hell,” I seethed. I picked up a rock from the ground and tossed it at his name. “You stupid bastard!” I shrieked, tossing another, this one with more force. “I hate you! You killed all of them! You got what you deserved!” The tears streamed faster down my face, and I didn’t even attempt to get rid of them this time.

I threw one more stone, flipped off the tombstone, and walked away. I’d never take that way through the cemetery again. Seeing his name felt like poison being dripped into my eyes. All of this was his fault. He’d brought the gun to school. He’d hunted down his ex-girlfriend because she couldn’t deal with his psychopathic tantrums and abuse anymore. She was moving on and it wasn’t with him. He grabbed his dad’s gun before going to school, headed into her first period class, and killed everyone in the room. Then he pulled the trigger on himself.