Shimmer (Riley Bloom 2)

But it was only a moment before the focus returned to Nicole.

Still crying.

Still stalked.

Still harassed by a group of classmates who followed her wherever she went.

Bullying her in a way that wasn’t just a pattern of behavior—but a favorite pastime of theirs.

I stood off to the side, my voice rising above all the others as I heatedly defended her. Screaming at them to stop, to leave her alone, to find a better, more productive way to spend their free time. A better way to build themselves up.

And then the bell again …

The series of scenes continuing to repeat, and yet still not making the slightest bit of sense no matter how many times I watched them play.

Then, I remembered.

There was more.

A fourth scene I’d glimpsed only the haziest hint of …

A body.

And the next thing I knew, I was propelled from the school to a nice, modest house where a parade of cops and paramedics and crying, distraught people streamed in and out.

All of them hovering around a stretcher—like the kind you see in movies.

A stretcher holding a small, slim, sheet-covered, completely lifeless form …

And I knew without being told that the body was Nicole’s, and that Bodhi blamed himself.

I fought my way out. So uncomfortable with being inside his guilt-ridden mind and self-hating skin, I was desperate to look him in the eyes and confront him myself.

Tugging hard on his arm as I said, “But you tried. You tried to stop it. I saw you—I heard you—I was you!” Practically screaming at him, so desperate to free him so that I too could be released from all this.

But Bodhi wasn’t having it. He just shook his head, eyes blazing with anger, voice laced with bitterness, when he said, “Oh, really? And just exactly what is it you heard, Riley? What is it you actually said when you were me?”

I squinted, having no idea what he was getting at—I mean, hadn’t we experienced the same thing?

Following the length of his pointing finger all the way to the place where it played out again.

A bell, a boy, a girl …

Finally realizing the truth:

The real reason no one reacted when Bodhi and I both screamed those words—the real reason we were so easily ignored.

We hadn’t actually spoken them.

Hadn’t uttered anything at all.

Those words never found their way out of Bodhi’s mouth, much less past his heart.

I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin to try to comfort him.

All I knew for sure is that anger and guilt mixed together made for a pretty strong brew—one that could trap a person forever.

“I was gonna say something that day, I had it all planned out, but then, at the very