Page 52 of We’re All Going to Die Tonight!

Javi

October 17

2:17 a.m.

“Kait! Kait!”

I don’t see her. I can’t find her. She took off so fast, I lost her. In the chaos I just ran, and now I’m completely turned around.

“Kait!” I shout again, not caring how loud I am. Not caring that the murderer who cut Emerson the fuck up might be right around the corner. Because I’ve got to find her. If I don’t, I…

I can’t think about what will happen if I don’t.

I keep going, leaving the trees and the mud behind for rocks, so the cliffs are close. I see them now, coming into view, and the salt in the air stings the cuts I now have on my arms and face from tearing through the forest. I whip around, looking for a flash of her blond hair. But there’s nothing. No Emerson or Marlene, either.

I pause near the edge of a cliff, hands on my thighs. I bend over for a deep breath and notice my shoelaces are loose. I retie them with double knots and look out to where the waves crash down below. It’s so dark, but the rain’s let up a lot. It’s more like a mist now. I shield my eyes and look out over the waves, at the murky blackness that shifts and glows past me.

Any other day, I could imagine Kaitlyn and me walking along the sand. Looking out on this water under sunlight rather than moonlight. Hell, our first kiss was at the beach.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she’d whispered, just before bringing her lips to mine.

“Kaitlyn!” I call again, cupping my hands over my mouth. “Kait!”

“She’s not coming.”

When I turn around, I’m not sure what I’m expecting. But when my eyes land on the figure standing in the dark, shock mingles with dread, then crystallizes into understanding as pieces come together and I realize everything I missed.

“God,” I say softly. “I should’ve fucking known.”

Chapter 28

Avery

October 17

2:18 a.m.

There was a moment, after everything fell apart at the debate competition, when the reality of Ms. Dorman’s disappointment settled over me. I could feel the tears coming on, understood we had lost, knew there was no coming back from my silence and my standing there, mouth opening and closing like some tragic dying fish. But I didn’t know for certain until I’d stepped off the stage and walked over to the team and seen her eyes, filled with confusion, frustration, and shame.

It was unbearable.

Looking back, I wish I’d gone to her instead of Mr. Jay. I wish I’d taken her stern disappointment instead of his…well, what I expected to be Jay’s pep talk. After all, ever since he’d joined the team, Mr. Jay had showered me with praise and told me often how he appreciated my efforts. I wasn’t too much to him, it seemed like. He didn’t mind my color-coded spreadsheets or my notes. In fact, he told me they’d come in handy in college. So instead of going to Ms. Dorman and letting her tear me apart and tell me exactly where I went wrong, I ran away the second I could, to find Mr. Jay.

I’d thought he would tell me it was a minor mistake. Maybe he’d even say it was really Caulder’s fault for not signaling my time early enough so I knew when to wrap up. He’d tell me even captains slip up sometimes.

How could I have known what he would actually say would be so much worse?

Still, I’d promised myself there wouldn’t be any more mistakes. I’d sent Ms. Dorman an email apologizing and promised her the same thing, and I’d asked her not to speak to me about it further until I’d had time to process. I didn’t tell her what Mr. Jay had said. I let it just be the promise: the promise to do better, to not slip up again, to be the co-captain she’d chosen and deserved.

But I never could’ve imagined that twenty-four hours later I’d be stabbing her with a letter opener.

On the one hand, I’m glad she’s here. That we won’t have to make these decisions alone anymore. Maybe she’ll know how to fix the phone. Maybe she’ll be able to help Lucas, who I realize is still on the floor of the bathroom. There’s so much to tell her, but I don’t even really know where to begin.

Caulder’s gone to get the first aid kit for her arm, which leaves us alone and her eyes fixed on me. She’s still waiting for me to explain, which I guess I do owe her. Since I, you know. Stabbed her.

“We thought you were an intruder,” I say. “We thought—”

“Why in the world would you think that?”