Until I do.
I know it’s Gwen’s cry I hear, something shrill and pained. I can’t see her, though. She was there, I know she was. I keep my eyes focused on where I saw her last. S
he was on the other side of a tide of people, getting pushed down one of the halls. My heart hammers as I work sideways, not caring who I shove aside or run into. They yell at me to move, but I don’t, not until I’m there, not until I—
She’s crouched on the floor, arms shielding her head, and I have to push someone with an obnoxiously bulging backpack out of the way to reach out and grab her wrist.
Her hand balls into a fist, fighting against me—always fighting against me—but I don’t let go.
“It’s me, it’s just me!” I yell over the din. Finally, her blue eyes raise to mine, and my mouth parts in shock.
There’s blood.
“He kicked me.” She cups a shaking palm over her nose, eyes wide with a wild mixture of fear, anger, and hurt. “I fell and he kicked me in the face.”
I tear my eyes away from her bloody face to look around, vision going red. “Who?”
She tugs my arm, using it to pull herself upright. “I don’t know, I only saw his shoe.”
Our palms flatten, fingers linking, and I pull her with me through the mob, shielding her as we go, and I keep searching for the person responsible, despite having no information to go off of. Whoever it was, he better hope it stays that way.
It seems like it takes forever until we finally spill outside, the glare of the sun seeming too stark and bright. I instantly whirl around to her, tilting her face.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathe as I inspect her. The blood has run down her mouth, over her chin. She looks ghoulish. “Does it feel broken?”
She blinks at me owlishly, lifting her free hand to prod at it. “I don’t know?”
“It’d feel crunchy,” I say impatiently, “like a bag of pebbles.”
She prods it again, wincing. “I don’t think so. I don’t know, it just stings.”
I exhale. “Did he get you anywhere else?” I ask, eyes sweeping down her body.
She shakes her head. “I don’t even know how I fell. I was fine and then everyone was freaking out.”
My heart slowly starts to get back to a normal rate. “It was like you got swallowed.”
“Hey,” a voice says and we both turn, seeing Tyson appear from the crowd. “I got stuck in there—” His eyes take in several things in quick succession. Her bloody face, our linked hands, the blood on my sleeve from where she grabbed me for leverage.
His jaw locks, eyes growing wide with ferocity. “Oh, I know you fucking didn’t.” He drops his bag and stalks forward, but Gwen steps between us, dropping my hand like a hot poker.
“No no no,” she tells Tyson. “I fell in there and someone kicked me. He just helped me up, pulled me through the crowd.”
Tyson looks skeptical at first, eyes darting avidly between us. “If he did something to you—”
I gape at him in disbelief. “Why does everyone think I’m an abusive piece of shit this month?”
Gwen swipes the back of her hand over her mouth. “Ty, seriously. You know if he’d done this to me, I’d have his balls in my pocket right now. The guy had orange shoes. That’s all I know.”
Tyson’s gaze drops to my shoes.
“They’re black!” I lift a foot to prove it.
Tyson ultimately sags, bending to retrieve his bag. He pulls out a travel-size bag of tissues, handing them to Gwen. “Sorry, that was just kind of a fucked-up thing to see after all that. Are you okay?”
“Yes, we’ve already determined it’s probably not broken.” Gwen presses a wad of tissues to her nose, eyebrows furrowed. Her voice is firm and sure when she adds, “It wasn’t an accident. It was like he literally went out of his way to kick me.”
I ask, “Are you sure you didn’t notice anything else about him?” as my narrowed eyes take in the scattered crowd. No one’s looking our way that I can tell.