Page 9 of Soul So Dark

Aiden glances at me out of the corner of his eye, “I should’ve been polite and taken that piece of dental floss she calls underwear so she doesn’t have to sit in wet clothes for the rest of the day.”

“If you did anything polite, she’d probably die of shock.”

“You’re right,” Aiden shoves open one of the double doors to the cafeteria, “why disappoint her?”

By the time we arrive, the lines have thinned out and the tables have filled up. But as we cross the room, I see two chairs still sitting empty at our table with Rory Bergin and Josh Maddox. Right behind it is the snack line with its usual stack of pizza boxes from the Angelo’s in town. Except it’s not regular Angelo’s pizza, it’s the undercooked version dictated by the school’s contract with the store. If there are any bubbles in the pizzas after baking, the school gets those for free. Therefore, we end up with Angelo’s evil, doughy twin. But we can buy as many slices of it as we want, so no one cares. As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m sure I’ll be craving that gooey, greasy shit by this time next month. Besides, I can afford it, I kept conditioning even after soccer season ended because I knew I’d be heading to boot camp in the summer.

Aiden heads for our usual spots at the table while I head for the line. I reach into my back pocket to dig out my wallet when I stop short. There’s a girl standing next to the window, her back half turned to the rest of the room. She looks familiar, wearing a tight grey tank top tucked into a pair of loose jeans with rips down the front. Her long black hair hangs over her shoulders, obscuring her face until she reaches up and drags her hand across her cheek. That’s when I see her face is flushed and she’s crying. And then it hits me.

It's Dallas Lutz, Colson’s younger sister.

She’s a freshman, but I’ve known her since she was in elementary school. Granted,knowis a relative term. She and Colson live in the same house and she plays video games with us sometimes—at least she used to. But I didn’t even recognize her because now I only ever see her in a hoodie with headphones on while she ignores us. She’s also not wearing her big, black emo glasses. Does she usually wear them to school? I don’t even know.

I glance around, realizing that Dallas isn’t with anyone. Has she always had this lunch period? I never noticed. Regardless, she looks like she’s losing her shit and I can’t just pretend I don’t see her. I spin on the ball of my foot and switch directions, heading straight for her. Before she realizes what’s happening, I wrap one arm around her shoulder and whisk her straight through the nearby door into the stairwell.

The door clangs shut and Dallas whips around, looking up at me with wide eyes. A moment later, she recognizes me and her fear turns to confusion. She swallows hard, blinking as she wipes beneath her eyes.

“You alright?” I ask, knowing perfectly well that she’s not. But what do you say to someone about to have a meltdown in the middle of the cafeteria because their sister was murdered?

Dallas squints at the sun shining through the window across from the stairs, trying to get her bearings. But it doesn’t seem to matter, because she can barely respond.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, only for her chin to start trembling again. She looks down at the speckled tile. “No,” she squeaks, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth as her face contorts and she starts crying again.

Stepping forward, I wrap my arm around Dallas’s shoulders and pull her toward me. After another minute of silently sobbing into my shirt, her rigid body starts to relax. I never realized how short she is. I’m 6’1” and she only comes up to the top of my chest. How the hell is she related to Colson who’s three inches taller than me?

Holding her tight, I rub the center of her shoulders and then squeeze the back of her neck. I don’t remember the last time anyone outside my family cried around me, and even then, I probably wasn’t the one offering any comfort. But I don’t mind right now, maybe because I know what it’s like to go back to school after losing one of the most important people in your life and having to pretend that everything is fine.

I bow my head and press my nose to the top of her head. “You good?” I ask, knowing she’s not, but I don’t loosen my grip until I feel her nod.

She sniffles and finally lifts her head as I reach for her wrist and gently guide her toward the stairs to sit down. She drops her bag next to the railing and collapses next to me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her palm.

“I know why you’re upset,” I break the silence, “you don’t have to explain.”

“No, you don’t,” Dallas mutters with a shake of her head.

“OK…” I can’t tell whether she wants to tell me about it or wants me to shut the fuck up, “then what is it?”

She takes a deep breath, “There were some girls, in the restroom,” she explains, “and they were talking about Evie and Colson.”

“What about Evie and Colson?” I ask through slitted eyes.

“About Evie’s visitation. One of them said she was only going because the four ofyouwill be there, and she likes Colson…” she trails off, her mouth twisting into a scowl. “Whatever. Gross. And then they started talking about what Evie—” her voice catches and she stops short to collect herself, “what Evielookedlikewhen he found her,” she creaks out in a whisper.

My knuckles go white as I clasp my hands, squeezing them together as a spark ignites in my chest. Evie was murdered and dumped in the woods and some bitch is talking about her burial like it’s fucking Homecoming? And then to make matters worse, she was talking about the state of her goddamncorpse?

I rise from the stairs, “Who was it?” I ask, nodding to the narrow window in the door. “Point them out.”

Dallas looks up at me, eyes wide, and after a few moments, looks down and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it,” she says quickly.

She thinks I’m going to embarrass her. She’s spent half her life witnessing all the dumb shit the four of us do, including all the fights we get into. Full disclosure—Colson and Aiden start the fights, and Mason and I usually finish them. But she grew up with Colson, so I can’t blame her for clamming up now.

“I won’t do anything right now, I promise,” I assure her. “Just tell me.”

Dallas looks at me apprehensively, but finally rises from the stairs and cranes her neck to peer through the window.

“There,” she points straight ahead, “the girl with the dark hair and pink shirt.”

She’s pointing to my table, where Rory, Josh, and now Aiden are sitting with Jordy Harrington, Layla Cochran, and Jamie Gallt. Jamie’s the one Dallas is talking about.