The door to the library slams open. “Can you believe this bullshit?” Ryan’s voice calls out, full of rage. “Bo, I saw you come in here. Where are you? Have you seen this shit? I can’t believe they’re going to do this to us!”
I stand up, giving away my location, and Ryan marches over to me. He slams a piece of paper on top of the open book on Harold’s desk. Harold scoots his chair back and scurries to the corner.
“What’s going on? Calm down, man,” I say, staring at Ryan’s face. He’s practically purple with anger.
Ryan thrusts the paper at me. “Read,” he orders.
Dear Parents and Guardians,
We regret to inform you that, after a complicated and in-depth evaluation of our school, the board of directors has decided that the best course of action for our students is that we close at the end of the semester. We are happy to provide references for all students to similar schools, and, of course, we suggest that all students continue their treatments while at home over the summer. Full school and medical records as well as a more detailed report of the situation will be forwarded to you before June 10.
Sincerely,
The Board of Directors of the Berkshire Academy for Children with Exceptional Needs
“They’re shutting us down!” Ryan growls.
My eyes linger on the page, dancing from letter to letter, not comprehending the words they create.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Ryan snatches the letter back. “My parents have already picked out my next hellhole.”
“Hellhole,” Harold repeats, quietly, from the corner.
“Shut up!” Ryan whirls around. Before I can move, before Harold can run away, Ryan grabs him by the collar and yanks him to the book supply closet. He throws Harold inside, flipping the old antique key in the lock and tossing it on the ground. He kicks it violently, the key skidding toward the shelves.
Anger issues.
“What’s going to happen to me now?” Ryan says, turning on his heel toward me as if Harold didn’t even exist anymore.
Narcissism.
“Let Harold out,” I say, trying to make my tone placating.
“Forget that loser—he’s one of the reasons why this school is closing.” His eyes narrow. “And you’re another one.”
Sociopathic tendencies.
I bend down and pick up the iron key from the ground. It’s for one of those old-fashioned locks that can be opened from either side. I think about sliding the key under the door for Harold, but I’m worried what Ryan will do. I can hear Harold in the book closet, quietly conversing with his ghosts. He’s fine—and probably far safer beyond Ryan’s reach. I slip the key into my own pocket instead, promising to come back for Harold after this all blows over.
“Stupid Sofía offs herself, that brings the officials. Harold’s batshit crazy, and so are you, and when they see just how bad you nut jobs are, they close the school.” Ryan punches the end of a shelf, knocking several books to the floor. “After everything I did to stop this from happening . . .”
He kicks a book down the aisle, the pages fluttering open as the cover skitters across the floor. “I bet it was Harold. You keep your crazy under wraps, but Harold is just nuts all over the damn place! No wonder we’re being shut down. This place isn’t equipped to handle such insane losers.”
Ryan jerks around, heading to the door that keeps Harold locked inside the book closet, but I grab him, spinning him toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”
Fortunately, I’m able to distract Ryan. I’m not sure what would happen if he made his way back to Harold, but I definitely don’t want to find out.
? ? ?
I’m walking ahead of Ryan while he raves like a lunatic, and without really meaning to, I lead him to Sofía’s old room. All I was thinking about was the need to calm Ryan down, to quell the rage swirling inside him like a hurricane, and to me, Sofía means peace.
Gwen is already inside the room, using a Zippo to burn another mark for Sofía’s absence. I count the black streaks in the flipped-over mattress, the number of days since Sofía’s been gone.
Since Sofía died.
If Gwen had powers, she wouldn’t need a Zippo. If I had powers, no one would need to count down the days since Sofía’s death, because they would all know I could alter time and bring her back. If Ryan had powers, Berkshire wouldn’t actually be closing.
But we are all powerless.
The truth sinks in me like a stone.
We are all powerless.
“What are you doing here?” Ryan sneers as soon as he sees Gwen. The sharp scent of the burnt mattress fills the room.
“What are you doing here?” Gwen throws the question right back at him, but there’s fear in her voice. She glances behind her, at the wall. Ryan’s in the doorway; I’m near the mattress. There’s no escape for her, and she knows it. She flicks the Zippo in her hand, the flame jumping up then dying with a click! of the flip-top.
“Get out,” I say not unkindly, moving aside so she can escape.
But Ryan doesn’t move. “I said, what are you doing here?” His voice is cold.
“I have a right to be here,” she says. “Go away.”