Page 44 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

“I hate him,” I tell Caulder. “But you knew that already. You heard us arguing.”

“But you didn’t actually want him dead,” Caulder says, as if saying it will fix what I said.

But I can’t lie. I’m too tired.

“I mean, probably not actually?” I say. “But I’m not gonna lie…I thought about it. And I’m not sad that he’s dead. Is that awful?”

Caulder watches me, not answering, as I drink my tea—regretting it immediately as the water burns my tongue.

“I’m a bad person,” I say. “Go on. Say it.”

Caulder’s expression remains steady. “I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“I guess maybe I just wanted to fight him,” I say, and now I feel the rambling coming on. Am I doing this to prove something to Caulder, or just to fill the silence? I really don’t know anymore.

“Like maybe that would’ve been enough,” I continue. “If he suffered, that would make the pain I felt sting just a little less.”

I look down at my mug. “It’s funny. I always thought Javi was unhinged for what he did to Warren. But maybe now…I kind of get it.”

Caulder’s quiet, and when I look over at him, I see that his eyes have darkened. In the background, I hear the bathroom sink still running. Emerson’s not listening to us. These are just our secrets.

“Javi didn’t start that fight,” Caulder says.

“What’re you talking about?” I ask, because everyone knows about the fight between Javi and Warren. Literally everyone. “Javi attacked that guy behind the baseball field.”

“You mean he confronted him,” Caulder corrects. “Because Warren had been sending messages to Kaitlyn all week.”

Messages?

“What kind of messages?”

Caulder hesitates. I wonder if I’m asking him to break some kind of bro code with Javi, because I’ve never heard about these messages. All I knew was that Javi attacked Warren because of something to do with Kaitlyn, allegedly.

“You know last year when Kaitlyn had those really important volleyball games?” Caulder explains. “They were about to play the game that would determine if they made it to State.”

“Yeah,” I say. “She kept wanting to skip debate practice.”

“Well, the day of that game, Kaitlyn was walking down the stairs in the 200s building. She was by herself, and Warren was behind her. He and Kait, they never got along. She hated his jokes. He said she couldn’t take them. He sees her not paying attention, and he gets real close behind her and pushes her.”

My eyes go wide. “What?”

Caulder nods. “Right before her game. They thought she might’ve torn her ACL. But she refused to go to the hospital. She knew that, if she did, she would’ve been pulled from the game. So she played. And they won.”

“So…she didn’t have an ACL tear?” I don’t mention I have no idea what an ACL is, but it sounds like something that should stay in one piece.

Caulder laughs. “Oh, she did. And a lateral meniscus tear to go with it. Two things that should’ve made it nearly impossible to play as well as she did.”

“But how do you play with…leg tears?” I ask, because I can barely run the mile with an ingrown toenail. “How do you…you know. Jump and stuff?”

Caulder laughs. “Adrenaline? Pure determination? Stubbornness? Not that you know about that.”

“Very funny.”

“Anyway,” Caulder continues. “Kaitlyn told the school what happened. They even got it on video. But they said it was inconclusive, and Warren swore it was just him kidding around. He didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Caulder takes a drink of his tea. “Well, that’s what he said. But then he spent all week messaging her, taunting her. He used a burner account, but Kaitlyn knew it was him. He kept saying he wouldn’t miss next time. All kinds of nasty shit. She told Javi, obviously.”

Caulder’s gaze finds mine, then the floor. He’s reached the part he’s not sure about telling me, but I feel like I can put the pieces together.