I moved my hands over his waistband, tugging it down when he pulled back and shook his head against mine. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but it closed just as quickly. Ollie licked the water from his lips and kissed me one last time before stepping around me and exiting the stall.
Motionless, I stood there, feeling empty and rejected.
Time passed, I don’t know for sure how long exactly. I left the shower and moved on auto-pilot. Dressing, drying, staring at myself in the mirror. Waves of people rushed around me as I brushed my teeth, unable to comprehend my own thoughts or the words of others—until Dean Lynch’s voice came through the intercom.
“We are on lockdown until further notice. I repeat, this is Dean Lynch, and we are on lockdown until further notice. Stop whatever you are doing, and retreat to your dorm for a headcount.”
“Alright, turn off your shower, you know the drill,” a security guard called out after a single clap of the hand before he ushered people out the door.
Questions and theories buzzed through the hall until I reached my door.
It was nearly three in the morning when Ethan woke me. This time, he was already in bed behind me with arms clutched around my waist. I knew it was him by the way his stubble grazed my shoulder, and his warm breath hit my neck. Your body tends to remember the familiar presence of another before having to see with your own eyes.
It was a sixth sense telling you when you should be scared and take action, and when you are safe in the arms of another. Everyone has it. Few choose to listen to it.
My sixth sense confirmed Ethan had always belonged in my life one way or another. I just didn’t know what role he was supposed to play. Regardless, my mouth still opened and said, “Ollie,” attached with a denied hope.
And as always, Ethan corrected me with a sigh, “Ethan. It’s always Ethan.”
“What happened tonight?” I asked without turning around.
Ethan let out a breath and dug his fingers into my waist.
I didn’t feel guilty for the relationship we had, if anything, I was grateful for it. No one knew the depths and it was better that way. Around Ethan, I never had to identify what we had or put it into a box. He was a friend. He was my hero. He was everything when Ollie was gone. And he was everywhere when I needed him. He was my only anchor when everything else turned to chaos.
But the sad part was, if it came down to Ethan and Ollie, I’d choose Ollie. Ethan understood this, too, yet he still held on, taking the time we both had until Ollie came back around, allowing me to use him in ways I needed. Perhaps Ethan used me too.
We killed each other’s loneliness.
“There was a suicide in a dorm room in second wing,” Ethan said dryly. “Lynch wanted to make sure we had a headcount and clear the area for police presence.”
I flipped around to face him, and he moved the stubborn hair from my face. “Did you see?”
Ethan nodded. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, alright?” It was my turn to nod, and Ethan turned his eyes away and looked to the ceiling, his brain working overtime.
Ethan’s seen enough death. He should be numb to it all, but it still seemed to rupture him every time. Ethan turned back to face me, lips pressed together, world shaken up. “I need tonight,” he whispered.
I’d never seen him like this, and I’d wondered if he was close to the person who took their own life. “What do you need from me?”
“I need nothing from you, Jett. I just need you.”
“Okay.”
We laid there in silence as he dug his face into the groove of my neck, every part of him on the edge of breaking but refusing to. I should have told him it was better just to let go—to cry because your heart can only be forgiving for so long.
Though this was Ethan we were talking about.
Ethan had a soul of stone and the heart of a grim reaper.
His fingers laced in mine as he pinned my back to his chest, squeezing his broken away.
Dr. Conway entered my second class of the day. Tyler sat beside me with her brow in the air as whispers bounced through the small classroom.
“Today is going to be a little different,” Ms. Chandler announced, sending a nod in confirmation to Dr. Conway. “Everyone here is familiar with Dr. Conway, and today she’s going to talk about bullying and suicide help and prevention.”
Tyler turned to face me and whispered, “Every time someone commits suicide, they have to make it a big deal as if it were a contagious disease.”
I shook my head and gave her the keep-your-thoughts-to-yourself eyes.
Dr. Conway cleared her throat, and Tyler and I snapped our heads forward.
“It’s the people you would never expect, Tyler. Something that shouldn’t be taken lightly,” Dr. Conway stated before returning her attention to the rest of the class. Tyler’s blonde hair fell around her shoulders as her eyes found the surface of her desk.
Dr. Conway went on to talk about what had happened the night before. Not in detail, of course, but how Haden was a confident young man with many friends. He had never been bullied, but the one to bully others. Internal struggle was invisible, and sometimes the easiest way to counteract the silent pain was to try and beat it into someone else. You would’ve never known what he had planned to do, and those are the types of people who are the most danger to themselves because there is no cry for help. But she still listed signs to look out for and how to go about reporting suspicious behavior.
Then there were people like Livy.
“Who’s Livy?” Tyler asked in a hushed tone.
I pointed back to Dr. Conway, advising her to listen as I remembered the night Alicia told me the tale of Livy and Tommy last year.
Livy had walked through the doors of Dolor broken and confused, much like myself. Then found herself again through Thomas, like the way I did through Ollie.
Livy had been in love.
Livy had been happy.
Livy had planned on making it out of Dolor alive.
Except she didn’t.
Livy and Tommy fell victim to the curse of Dolor.
“Livy took her life after months and months of being strong against people like Haden. Ironic how both were struggling with demons of their own, and if we only opened our eyes and hearts to one another, if only we listened, they would both still be here,” Dr. Conway explained.
What Dr. Conway failed to mention was Livy had been gang-raped, which would be enough for some. She still held on until she became pregnant, then later lost her only source of continuance when Tommy had been taken to jail after he killed one of the rapists. Losing Tommy was her breaking point. Livy had been later found in her dorm room, hanging from the ceiling.
After she had stepped off the chair, I wondered what had gone through her head—If she’d regretted it. If flashes of the rapist and people who taunted her had entered her wounded mind. If she’d thought about Tommy, and what her decision would do to him.
Over a year had passed since Tommy’s vengeance and Livy’s death, but students still talked about them in whispers as if they were a myth or a spell you could cast onto another.
“We will hold a vigil tonight after dinner for Haden and Livy,” Ms. Chandler finished up as Dr. Conway gathered her materials. “It is not mandatory, but we expect your respect at the very least.”