I watch a girl in front of me leave her notebook behind. I start to call out to her and tell her she left it, but the words refuse to leave me, and then it doesn’t matter because she’s turned around and grabbed it.

Excited voices surround me as I pack up my things to go home. I avoid the clumps of students meandering in the halls chatting. Brie wasn’t at school today, but I sat with Gage and his friends again.

As I’m walking out, I spot Kenneth and Samson talking near Ruby’s locker. Kenneth has an arm casually around Samson’s shoulders and from the way Samson’s shoulders are shaking, he’s crying.

Kenneth spots me over Samson’s head and I turn away, better to pretend I saw nothing. I have no sympathy for Samson. Maybe I should, but all I feel is anger simmering below the surface.

It’s worse that part of the anger is at Kenneth—I’m angry that he’s comforting Samson but hasn’t been there for me.

Instead of getting on the bus to home, I decide to walk. It’s only a few miles and I want, need, fresh air to soothe the fire inside my chest.

Mom, Daddy, Jasper, Harvey, Aunt Haley, Brie, Kenneth… none of them care. Instead of going home, I head to Coffee & Cake, the little café that Ruby and I used to frequent. It should make me sad to be here without her, but I only feel the heat of anger.

The same barista that gave me a free drink before is working today.

“And what can I get started for—oh honey, you look like you need chocolate.”

“I want a black coffee,” I order, ignoring the pity as she sweeps her gaze over me.

“What kind of cake do you want?” she asks.

“No, I don’t—”

“I know someone that needs cake when I see it. It’s on the house, pick whatever you want.”

I pick the first thing I see and accept the free cake with a mumble of thanks.

I examine everything around me on the rest of my way home, distracting myself.

I’m waiting to cross an intersection, counting all the birds on the power lines, when there’s a pop and I look to see a car go careening through the intersection and hit another head on.

My coffee drops from my hand. I hiss as the hot liquid burns my legs, but it’s a welcome pain. I fumble with my phone, feeling sick and somehow airy, as if I’m floating. I’m so light I must be a balloon, ready to fly away in the breeze.

I’m clumsy as I start to dial 911, but I see other people have gotten out of their cars, people running to aid those in the accident. Someone else is also on their phone. I can feel my hands shaking, as I click my phone off.

I feel terrible as I turn around, away from the accident and head back to the café. I should be helping too, but what can I do? There are others already there. I’m not needed. I swallow bile, as I will myself to look away. I don’t think I’d be much help. I didn’t even move fast enough to dial 911.

Sirens echo in the distance and my eyes are burning. I clench my teeth and stuff my shaking hands in my pockets.

I need to get away. Somewhere, anywhere, but here.

I spot a homeless man sitting near one of the buildings that I didn’t notice before. He’s got an assortment of roses in front of him. It’s something some of the homeless do sometimes, try to sell a few flowers. I have no idea where they get the flowers or if people even buy them.

I’m about to pass by him, the familiar sight enough to ease some of my shaking. I’m not sure what possesses me to do it, but I walk over and hand him the bag with the cake, mumbling something about how I hope he’ll enjoy it.

He grins, showing missing teeth and hands me a rose in thanks. Back at the café, I head straight for the bathroom and clean the coffee off my legs as best I can.

I sink to the bathroom floor, the sound of water still pouring from the faucet. I shove my fist in my mouth, biting as hard as I can, until I taste blood instead of stomach acid. Until the pain in my hand is worse than the burns on my legs.

When I finally feel less airy, an anvil settling over my chest, its weight flattening me to the ground, I get up and head home. I don’t bother to look to see if the barista notices me and I avoid the intersection of the wreck, taking a longer route home.

I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.

That could be wrong of me. Maybe this will need to be added to the endless list of things I don’t want to think about, but at the moment, running away is all I can handle. But at least I’ve forgotten my anger at Kenneth for the moment.

I’m not sure I could muster the energy to feel the anger as I did before, now. My limbs are heavy, weighing me down. I’m tired. So very tired.

When I get home, without meaning to, I look up the street of the accident, looking for any information about the people in the cars.

One person in critical care after an accident at the intersection of 4th and Liberty Street.

Two people have minor injuries, a baby was in one of the cars but only has minor bruising.

No one died.

They’re lucky.