I wished I’d taken a more extensive first-aid class. I wished I knew exactly what to do to save him. I remembered, from the cop shows my mom loved, that they always put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. I looked around but didn’t see anything close by, so I tore my T-shirt over my head, rolled it into a ball, and pressed it to Brian’s wound.
He cried out in pain and tried to double up. But he didn’t push my hand away.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” I said. “But I have to stop the bleeding.”
“Yeah,” Brian grunted, giving a growl of agony. He made himself relax back to the floor, breathing hard through his mouth. “I think it’s coming out the back too.” His teeth chattered.
“Right.” If the bullet went all the way through him, there’d be two wounds. I didn’t have anything left to use, but a few feet away there was a soft-looking pink purse. With silent apologies to the owner, who I hoped was still alive, I left him long enough to grab it. I pushed it under him, hoping it would stop the blood, and went back to pressing my T-shirt into his stomach with both hands.
“You’re gonna be all right, I swear to God.” My voice was firmer now. Resolute.
Brian looked up at me, his eyes full of pain and fear. Of doubt.
“Screw that, Brian. You are gonna make it,” I told him in a bossy tone, rage giving it an edge. “Don’t you hear the sirens? They’re already on their way.”
It was weird because I hadn’t been consciously aware of sirens, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized they were true. I heard sirens. They were coming.
“Cops, ambulances, fire department—they’re gonna be here in just a minute. You’ll make it out of here, Brian. I swear.”
I pressed the wound with both hands, leaning close. But Brian didn’t respond. His eyes were getting a little glassy, and he looked over my shoulder at nothing.
“Brian!”
He blinked and focused on my face.
“Look at me. Okay? What’s your last name?”
I already knew, of course. But I wanted to get him talking.
“M-Marshall.”
“Yeah? You play football, right?”
Brian nodded. His teeth chattered. “It hurts. Oh, goddamn, it hurts.”
“I know. Hey, bud. I’m right here. I’m not gonna leave you until the EMTs arrive. Just think about….” I struggled to find the right words. “Think about a few weeks from now, when you’re out of the hospital and your folks take you out to eat to celebrate. Where you gonna go?”
Brian stared at me blankly.
“Where you gonna go, Brian,” I insisted, deliberately pushy. I could feel the blood soaking through the T-shirt in my hands. I was terrified at any moment the light would go out of his eyes. And I didn’t think I could bear that. God, he was so beautiful and so young. And something deeper than that. Looking into his eyes at that moment, I felt there was so much more of him that deserved, needed, to be known.
“T-Tony’s Pizza.” I could barely understand him, he was shivering so badly.
“Tony’s Pizza. Good choice. Have you ever tried their margherita pizza?”
“Lame,” Brian croaked. “Pepperoni sausage.”
I forced a grin. “All right. I hear ya. I like pepperoni and sausage too. But I thought you elite athletes had to eat healthy.”
Brian’s face crumpled. One of his bloody hands grasped my wrist, like he just needed to touch someone.
My heart turned over with an agonized thud. The sadness threatened to break me. “Look, I know it hurts, and this whole thing is scary as fuck. But try to think of something else. Okay? Go to your Zen place. Look in my eyes, Brian.”
Brian took a wobbly breath. “Zen? Really, dude?”
I smiled big. “Hey, if it works for the Dalai Lama…. You want to hear some good news?”
Brian nodded. There was something in the way he looked at me, like my face was the only thing he had to cling to, like he was fighting so hard to stay with me.
“I’ve been getting texts from my friend. She’s out by the football field with a bunch of others. People are making it out. And you will too, Brian.”
He didn’t argue, but his mouth turned down.
“You will. I promise.” I looked over my shoulder at the big glass windows, now shattered or missing entirely. They showed the front entry and sidewalk, but I didn’t see anyone there.
Where the hell were the police? The EMTs? Were they hanging back because the shooters were still roaming the halls? Would the shooters come back to the cafeteria?
I wanted to check my phone to see if there was anything more from 911. But I couldn’t let go of Brian. His fingers tightened on my wrist. I wished I could take his hand, but I couldn’t let up the pressure on his wound.
“I d-don’t want to die, Landon.” His eyes filled with tears.
I was surprised that he knew my name. But right then it didn’t matter that we had never been friends, that he was the quarterback who every girl mooned over and I was the gay wanna-be intellectual who hated cliques and didn’t think much of jocks. Right then it was him and me, life or death, and all that bullshit was cleared away. We were just people. Human beings. And when he looked into my eyes, I felt his soul, real and unmasked. I saw a person who was vulnerable and still and deep.
My soul answered back. It was a stronger moment of connection than any I’d ever felt in my life.
“Then don’t die. Okay? You must have to psych yourself up for games, so psych yourself up right now. I’m with you, and I’ve stopped the bleeding, so we’ve got time. It’s like a car, right? Your systems are a little damaged, but you’re stabilized for now. Soon the EMTs will come take over, they’ll get you to the hospital, and you’ll be golden. All you need to do is relax and keep your body as calm as you can. Save your strength. Can you do that?”
“’Kay,” Brian agreed, nodding seriously.
“You’re a ballplayer, so I know you’re physically tough. You’ve got this.”
Brian squeezed my wrist. “Will you…. Will you kiss me?” he asked, his voice hardly a whisper.
I stared down at him in shock. What?
Why would Brian Marshall want me to kiss him? Was this a last-rites thing? Did he really think he would die? Or was he just looking for comfort, like his mother or sister might give him?
“Sure,” I said easily. “Whatever you want.”
It was true. Whatever he asked me at that moment, I’d do it. A kiss was a small enough thing to give him.
I leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. I kissed him as tenderly as I could and lingered, my lips against his skin, feeling the texture of his hair against my cheek. I nearly lost it and blubbered like a baby, but I managed to get myself together before straightening up.
“Anything else you want while I’m here? Foot massage?” I asked him, trying to joke because I couldn’t bear the feels in that moment.
Brian half laughed, half cried. “Just don’t leave me, Landon. Okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Brian. Not going anywhere.”
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