The Past
Hunter age sixteen
Isabel age fifteen
I watch Isabel and Falcon parade their relationship and affection throughout the halls of the school. It’s like their flaunting it. I fucking hate that they’re together. But Falcon was my best friend and he’s the only one I trust with Isabel. He’ll take care of her in all the ways I can’t.
My fists ball as I watch them eat lunch together.
She laughs at something he says, leaning fully into him.
He kisses her hair and feeds her a slice of green apple.
I go numb as she gives away my smiles and my laughs.
Someone tugs on my sleeve and I glare at a nice-looking pale girl with red ruby-colored hair. “Hey, you’re hands are bleeding.”
Unclenching my bloody fist, I shake her hand off me. “Fuck off.”
Her green eyes grow wide, her quivering lips parting in shock. I watch as tears form in her eyes.
Oh, shit.
She’s about to cry.
“Look, I’m sorry―”
She runs from me, her pale green eyes filled with tears.
I’m a dick.
***
The halls of Cherry Creek Hospital are busy with passing nurses and doctors. I’m sitting in a chair at a nurse’s stations while I complete a form for volunteering. I want to play piano for the kids in the oncology ward. From what I’ve heard I’m good at it and these kids deserve any talent I have. I’d like to make their suffering less intense by offering the only thing I’ve been good at so far.
A nurse, Rebecca, introduces me to the small group of volunteers. Most of which are old and elderly but there is a girl I recognize immediately. She’s the girl with flaming red hair and summer green eyes. I smile at her and her face pales. She swallows and lowers her gaze to the floor. Rebecca tells me her name is Candy.
When the introducing is over, Rebecca dismisses us. Candy is the first to shoot up from her seat.
“Hey. Wait,” I call after Candy, following.
She halts and turns to face me, her cheeks blotched with pink but her eyes are hard glittering emeralds. “What? You’re mean. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Hey. Stop for a moment,” I say, gripping her hand tight in mine when she tries to walk away. “Just give me a moment to apologize.”
The strap of her satchel falls down her shoulder. She pushes it back up, scowling at me. “I don’t have time. I have to go.”
“Why are you in such a rush?”
Her gaze shifts to a fixed spot beside my head, her eyes losing focus. “I have a date.”
My brows almost reach my hairline.
This little shy girl has a date.
I don’t believe her.
“With who?”
She frowns at me, holding her satchel to her chest with her free hand as if I might snatch from her.
It’s so obvious she’s hiding something.
What’s in her bag?
It’s only one way to find out.
“Please. Let me go.”
“Sorry for being mean to you,” I say and then I let her go because we’re drawing too much attention for what I’m trying to do.
Her gaze locks onto mine, her eyes are so cheerless that my heart threatens to weep for her. “Me, too,” she whispers before opening the door to the stairwell of the exit.
I glance around to make sure no one is watching me, then I follow her. I follow her up ten flights of stairs and up to the rooftop of the hospital. The girl with long crimson hair stands on the edge of the ledge of a twelve story building. The ruffles of her pastel green skirt sway in the wind. It’s windy up here and there is a certain chill in the air that has nothing to do with the temperature. The violent gust of wind blows her hair around. Her hair seems to come to life, red erratic flames flying everywhere like a tornado from hell.
“Why’d you follow me?”
“You needed me. I’m glad I’m here,” I say breathless, my heart beating in my throat.
“You should’ve come.” She turns to the side and carefully places one foot in front of the other, balancing herself on the width of the cement ledge like she’s walking on a beam, but there is no mat to catch her.
It’s only the black asphalt road down below.
She halts suddenly and bends her knees with her arms spread wide at her sides like wings.
My heart almost jumps from my mouth. “Don’t do that. Get down.”
She laughs at my pathetic plea. “Why?”
“Candy, get down. Now,” I order, inching closer to her.
Her empty jade eyes lift up to mine. “Don’t come any closer, or I will toss myself over the edge.”
I have to swallow twice before I nod. “Please get down, Candy.”
“Why?” she repeats, her interest truly peaked.
“Because,” I have to force my stiff lips to move, “I want to get to know you, and I can’t get to know you if you jump. So please get down.”
“No one wants to get to know me,” she replies somberly, looking down at her feet as she balances herself.
“You’re wrong.” I take a chance to get closer while she’s staring at her white shoes. “I do.”
She looks up at me, her expression surprised. “You do?”
“I do.”
Her eyes water. “You aren’t saying that to be nice?”
“No. I don’t do nice. I’m saying I want to get to know you for you. I’m not vowing false promises to anyone, not even a pretty girl balancing on top of a hospital roof.”
She smiles at me, clear tracks rolling down her face. “I’d like to get to know Hunter Knight.”
I inch closer. “Good. You like chocolate chip cookies?”
She nods eagerly, her red locks flying everywhere. “Yes.”
I grin at her. “I make the best cookies. I’ll make two dozen for you. But you have to get down first before we make this deal.”
Her eyes light with a gleam I’ve seen in Isabel’s eyes. “Deal.”
But she falters when she takes a step.
I move, but I witness her
falling
down
down
down.
I throw my arms over the ledge of the brick building and catch her by her wrist. She collapses on top of me when I pull her up.
We both laugh breathlessly and humorlessly. It has to be the adrenaline from all this life and death action.
“I know who you are,” Candy says quietly. “Everyone knows who you are. You’re Hunter Knight. You’re on the football team.”
“Well, I can’t wait to get to know you, Candy.” I yank on a long red lock of hair. She blushes hard, her entire face turning beet red.
Candy will work.
She’s shy and she doesn’t look like Isabel.
I can at least try to move on.
She tells me her suicidal letter is in her satchel along with every person that has mistreated her within the last week.
My name was the last one.
Number fifty.