How are we going to get out of this? I might be strong but I am not super. My run is pathetic and unpracticed from years of avoiding gym class. Angela has to practice for track, but something about her shaking tells me it’s not doing her any good now. And Lance is only getting closer.

  It won’t be long before he can hear her panicked breath, even with my hand over her mouth. Our best bet is to bolt back to the hall when Lance turns his back, but the library’s thin carpet means our feet will pound out an alarm. Even if it doesn’t, my stupid sneakers will squeak out in the hall.

  “Griffin…” Lance’s playful tone derails my train of thought. “We just want Angela.”

  The trembling under my hand halts as Angela’s brown eyes grow giant. Pleading.

  “Come on, Griffin,” Lance teases, his footfalls growing louder. Only one aisle over. “We all know what she does to you. Day in. Day out.”

  Angela’s breath in sharp, her panic tickling the space between my fingers.

  “Oh, that’s right.” Lance snaps. “You two must be buddies now, you shared a latte yesterday.”

  Angela tries to shake her head but my grasp is too tight. She tries to stand, but I instinctually hold her in place. Too hard. I can’t muffle the pained squeak that escapes her.

  “Ah.” Lance halts. His rifle clicks, the sound eerily familiar from childhood. Like seeing an old friend after years. Angela stops trying to pull away, her mouth gaping behind my hand as Lance rounds the corner. “There you are.”

  I step in front of my bully. “Who wants her?”

  “Told that idiot to loop you in.” Lance sighs, waving his gun like a freaking baton. My guts twirl uncomfortably as I watch the hollow barrel.

  “Who?” My tone is even less patient.

  “James.” Lance shrugs, still waving the rifle wildly. At least now it’s pointed at the dictionaries.

  It takes everything in me to not close my eyes. Some part of me was still foolishly hoping I was wrong, that maybe James was just playing along or the adrenaline made me hallucinate. I’d been in a closet with janitors cleaning supplies after all.

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  It doesn’t matter. Eyes open or not, this nightmare will keep playing. And from everything I saw in Lucy’s locker, I don’t have time to putz with Lance and Angela. Protecting my bully is costing my friend precious time.

  “Lucy forgot something in her locker. Something she needs soon.”

  “What, like an inhaler or something?” Lance cants his head in interest. “Wait, is that why she’s all shivery and weird in the office?”

  My guts freeze as I nod. If she’s already shivering…

  Lance’s reply is cut short as Angela screams, bolting from under my hand and down the aisle.

  “Hey!” Lance points the rifle up, shooting into the ceiling. The bullet snaps the air and one of the fluorescent tubes shatters, glass raining all over us.

  Angela shrieks as I run into Lance, knocking him over. His finger must still be on the trigger; bullets pepper the books and shelves as we slam to the ground.

  Lance swears and punches. I barely dodge the first blow before he brings the butt of his gun into my glasses crunch and stars dance over everything. He shoves me aside, slamming me into a bookcase.

  “Why?” He spits blood. “Why would you defend her?”

  I kick but the attempt is clumsy. In my pathetic practice sessions, the trees never tried to defend themselves. Lance hops over the kick like he's skipping rope, then slams the steel toe of his boot into my stomach. I collapse, wheezing, as Lance starts down the aisle, towards the back office. “Stay down, Griffin,”

  A little late for that. The thought’s barely had time to form before Angela screams. “Please!”

  I grab a shelf, hauling myself up. With my glasses broken, I can barely make out Lance pointing his gun at Angela’s highlighted head. She’s trembling, pleading. Her face is shiny with snot and tears.

  Lance lets out a cruel laugh and something in his gun clicks. “You remember when Amy said please last week?”

  Angela’s sobs are incoherent.

  “She begged you to stop. Did you care?”

  I look around, trying to think.

  “Did you even feel bad for throwing her clothes away? Or recording it?” Lance is yelling now. The words are coming out fast. His walkie talkie is going wild but Lance doesn’t seem to notice. His finger is on the trigger as he squares his shoulders. “Did you even pause when you uploaded that to TikTok?”

  Before I realize what I’m doing, I scream, “Over here!”

  He looks up just as I slam my whole body into the bookcase. It creaks and groans, books tumbling from the other side.

  “What the–” Lance’s final words cut off in a scream as the heavy case flattens him.

  Angela lets out a frightened squeak as she gapes at me. “What did you do?”

  The school intercom crackles and James’ voice fills the air. “You’ve been holding out on me, Molly.”