For fucking Parrish.
I wrench the stick away from him, wondering where Chasm is now, ignoring the ringing of the bell that signals the start of today’s first class.
“This is my administration period, so don’t worry. If you wait a moment, the hallway will clear and you can head straight into the parking garage. I’ll take care of the cameras this time, considering Kwang-seon is occupied.”
“Where is he?” I ask, squeezing the stick in my hand and wondering if it’s the same one that Mr. Fosser might’ve used on Maxx. I don’t want to know what his plans were for us that day. Considering what he did to JJ … I shake my head to clear it.
“Speaking to the headmistress. Don’t worry: he isn’t in trouble. Just business.”
I don’t like the sound of that. I also don’t trust that Mr. Volli will be able to help with the security cameras, but I don’t particularly care in that moment. I’m upset. I’m hurting. I’m frustrated. I’m confused.
I peek out the door, finding an empty hallway as promised, and then I take off for the parking garage.
The white Tesla is parked exactly where Mr. Volli suggested it’d be.
I walk right up to it, lift the heavy walking stick in my hand and smash the clubbed end of it into the windshield. It cracks, but doesn’t shatter, so I do it again, until shards of safety glass are all over the ground, just like they were in the garage that day.
The first few swings don’t make me feel any better. If anything, they only make me angrier and more frustrated. Hefting the stick with both hands, I smash it into the door of the car, denting it. Again. Again. Again.
With sweat pouring down the sides of my face, I turn and spot Lumen’s BMW, moving over to it and then hesitating briefly. There must be a reason she did what she did yesterday. I know it; I can feel it. But Parrish isn’t going to make it another three days on feelings and beliefs.
I start with Lumen’s headlights, destroying those before I move onto the shiny surface of her hood. A hand on my shoulder makes me choke, and I whirl around to find a man in a mask. Before I get the chance to swing the club at his head, he peels it up, revealing his face.
It’s Maxx.
“Dakota, what are you doing?” he asks, his voice strained. In his right hand, he clutches a baseball bat.
“Don’t worry about that. Just … help me.”
X seems a little torn, but he must decide that it’s too late to undo the damage I’ve already done. He yanks the ski mask back into place and turns around, hopping up on the hood of another car and bringing the baseball bat down on the windshield.
An alarm goes off, but we both ignore it. I know for a fact that you can’t hear any car alarms inside the building. A few weeks back, after leaving Mr. Volli’s class, I headed into the garage with Danyella only to hear a good half-dozen alarms going off in unison. One of them must’ve been set off by a bird or something, and the sound of it started another five cars nearby.
While we don’t have a lot of time, we have some.
I beat the shit out of Lumen’s car, conflicting emotions chasing each other through my damaged psyche. I shouldn’t be doing this, but … she hurt me. She let her friends break my bones. Speaking of, my broken fingers are killing me, but the adrenaline keeps the pain at the edges of my brain, a distant, sparkling thing that I can ignore with little effort.
I refuse to let myself think about how disappointed Maxine would be if she knew what I was doing.
Instead, I search out Danyella’s car next, swallowing hard as I pause next to it and think about the first day I met her, right here in the parking garage. She gave me her blazer; she gave me her shoes; she offered me a place in her production.
And how did I repay her?
By burning the entire thing to the ground.
I close my eyes and adjust my grip on the dead rapist’s walking stick, wondering how the hell I ended up here. Just six months ago, I was helping my grandparents hang Christmas lights and debating on whether I should get Nevaeh and Sally the same gift or try to pick more personal items and risk Nevaeh’s jealousy.
Now … here I stand, in ultimate disgrace.
Love, wow. A double-edged sword that bleeds both the wielder and their opponent dry.
With a scream, I smash the walking stick into Danyella’s driver’s side window. I’m swinging so wildly now, knocking dents into the rusted old Geo that I don’t notice Maxx coming up beside me again. He grabs my right arm so hard that I cry out, yanking me along with him and pulling me into a dark space.
