I never really understood what she meant. Not until I had Laney in my arms, her head on my chest, her heart in my hands. One song ends and another starts, and it’s perfect. Wonderwall by Oasis fills the room, and she smiles, and her smile makes me do the same. “Do you know what this song is?” I ask.

“It’s the one your dad and I danced to on my sixteenth birthday.”

“It's also my parents’ wedding song.”

Her eyes go wide, her gasp soft.

We don’t speak for the rest of the song, just move together. As one.

“You ever feel like this is as good as it gets?” she says, looking up at me with those eyes.

I give her a memory, a secret. “You know, I still remember the exact moment I fell in love with you. I mean, I always thought that I loved you, but I wasn't sure what that love meant.” I kiss her once and go on, “We were fifteen, it was a Saturday, and I'd just come second in a race. I was in the worst mood even though you spent the majority of that morning trying to cheer me up. I sat on the couch in your room, and you were on your bed, your legs crossed, knitting gloves for Lachlan. They were special gloves—”

“The ones with the removable tip on the pointer finger so he could still play games on your iPad,” she remembers out loud.

I bite my lip, nod once. “You looked up at something on the television and laughed, and I remember staring at you, thinking that you had the power to change my mood with a single sound. Your laugh.”

“Luke,” she breathes, tears threatening to fall.

“You went back to knitting… sixteen clicks of your needles, eight seconds, and my heart flipped. And I just knew. I knew I’d fallen in love for the first time. For the last time.”

I taste her tears on her lips when she kisses me, her arms around my neck, holding me tight. But then she pulls away, and when I open my eyes, I see it's not by choice. Cooper Kennedy is here, and his hand is on her shoulder, and he looks like fucking death—as if he hasn't slept for days, and going by what Laney’s told me, he probably hasn’t. He's shaking, twitching. “Lo, I need to talk to you. Just one minute, please.”

I separate them, step in front of her. “What the hell are you doing? Get out!” But he doesn’t see me; his scattered gaze is on Laney.

“Please, Lo,” he fucking begs, his hands clasped in front of him.

Lane steps beside me. “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

Cooper looks around. “Not here.”

My rage boils, bursts. “Fuck off!”

“Fuck you!” he shouts, then looks at Lane. “I just want one goddamn minute! After everything we were, you can’t even give me that?”

He’s fucking insane if he thinks I’m going to let Laney go anywhere with him. “You need to leave!”

“Luke.” Lane’s hand is on my arm, forcing me to face her. “I’ll be back in—”

“No, Lane!”

“Please.” Those eyes, those eyes, they ruin me.

I look away. “Fine. Go.”

She blows out a breath, looks between us. To me, she says, “Please don’t leave.” As if I would. I let her go, and I stand in the middle of the dance floor, my hands in my pockets, watching my girl leave with another guy.

He asked for one minute with her.

It’s now been two.

Three…

And on the eighteenth second of the third minute, Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

You see it on the news. Read about it on the Internet. But you never think it’ll happen to you.

School shootings don’t happen in our town.

In our school.

Everyone runs, everyone searches.

And all I can think is LaneyLeoLogan.

I start shouting their names, shoving people out of the way.

“LaneyLeoLogan!”

Everyone’s screaming, crying.

There’s no fucking protocol for this.

My eyes dart everywhere all at once, my pulse thumps in my ears.

“LaneyLeoLogan!”

It’s a sea of people rushing out the door, teachers screaming, shouting to stay calm.

There is no calm.

Not here.

Not now.

I run one direction, then another, back again.

Always looking.

“LaneyLeoLogan!”

Someone shoves me from behind, their scream ringing in my ears.

“Lucas!” Leo shouts, running toward me.

I check his body, head to toe, head to toe. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He shoves my hands away. “I’m okay. Where’s Logan?”

“I don’t know!” I shout. “LaneyLogan! LaneyLogan! LaneyLogan!”

People run again, back into the room, into me. “Lucas!” Logan cries, and I exhale, relieved. He falls to the floor, gets trampled. I run to him, shove everyone out of the way, and pull him toward me. “Leo!” he cries, hugging his brother.

His tears are fat, falling fast. He’s so fucking scared.

This shouldn’t be happening.

“What’s going on?” He’s crying so hard I can barely make out the words, not because he’s high, but because he’s fucking fifteen. He shouldn’t be experiencing this.

None of us should.

“Are you okay?” Leo yells. “Are you hurt?”

Logan shakes his head.

“Laney!” I’m on my toes, searching the sea of scared bodies. I look to my brothers, fear squeezing my throat shut. “Where the fuck is Laney?”

People line the back wall, sitting, hugging, crying.

I search for periwinkle, search for Laney. “Laney!”

“Preston! Get against the wall!” Coach Anderman yells. “Now!”

I turn to Leo. “Take Logan and go!”

“No!”

“I’m not fucking around, Leo. Go!”

“Luke!” someone shouts, but it’s not the voice I want to hear. Garray charges toward me, his body slamming into mine. He grasps my shoulders, gets in my vision.

“Laney!” I roar.

“Luke!” He’s pushing me back, his body blocking me. “Laney…” he huffs.

I can no longer see, blinded by fear. “Where the fuck is she?”

He wipes his eyes against his arm. “She’s outside, Luke… you shouldn’t go out—”

I push him away and run for the door.

Two seconds.

Seven steps.

My heart stops.

I drop to my knees.

“Laney!”

There’s no more periwinkle purple, just crimson red.

Blood everywhere.

Those eyes, those eyes, they ruin me.

I pick her up off the ground.

Blood everywhere.

Her legs, her torso, her mouth.

Blood everywhere.

“No! Laney! Please please please.”

She coughs blood.

Once.

Twice.

I hear, “I’m sorry, Lo! I didn’t want this. I love you. Fuck!”

Crimson red behind my eyes.

Rage.

Murder.

Cooper’s pacing the sidewalk, his hands behind his head, gun still in his grasp.

I don’t know how it happens.

How I rush toward him.