Monument 14

Page 1 of 42



Your mother hollers that you're going to miss the bus. She can see it coming down the street. You don't stop and hug her and tell her you love her. You don't thank her for being a good, kind, patient mother. Of course not-you hurdle down the stairs and make a run for the corner.


But the bus was barreling down our street so I ran.

* * *



"Don't forget," he called. "We're going to the Salvation Army after school."

"Yeah, sure," I said.

My bus driver laid on the horn.



I vaulted up the bus steps.

Behind me I heard Mrs. Wooly, who has been driving the elementary&ndash;middle school bus since forever, thank Alex sarcastically for gracing them with his presence.




"I'm telling y'all-concessions!" Jake said. "At my old high school a bunch of girls sold pop and cookies and these baked potatoes they used to cook on a grill. Every game. They made, like, a million dollars."

"A million dollars?" Astrid said.


"Even if I could make a million dollars, I wouldn't give up playing my own sport to be a booster for the football team," she said.

Jake flashed her one of his golden smiles.

"Not a booster, baby, an entrepreneur!"

Astrid punched Jake on the arm.

"Ow!" he complained, grinning. "God, you're strong. You should box."

"I have four younger brothers," she answered. "I do."


I ducked down. I was hoping no one would comment on my sprint to catch the bus. Astrid hadn't noticed me get on the bus at all, which was both good and bad.


I don't know why. High school seemed to do that to people.

The only person who acknowledged my arrival at all was Niko Mills. He leaned over and pointed to my shoe-like, "I'm too cool to talk"-he just points. And I looked down, and of course, it was untied. I tied it. Said thanks. But then I immediately put in my earbuds and focused on my minitab. I didn't have anything to say to Niko, and judging from his pointing at my shoe, he didn't have anything to say to me either.


So I ignored Brave Hunter Man and tried to power up my minitab. It was dead and that was really weird because I'd just grabbed it off the charging plate before I left the house.


And the tinks turned to TINKS and the TINKS turned to Mr. Reed's screaming "Holy Christ!" And suddenly the roof of the bus started denting-BAM, BAM, BAM-and a cobweb crack spread over the windshield.

I looked out the side window next to me.

Hail in all different sizes from little to that-can't-be-hail was pelting the street.












I tilted my head down and looked out what was left of the windshield. Through the white spray outside I saw that the grammar school bus, Alex's bus, was somehow still going. Mrs. Wooly hadn't skidded or lost control like Mr. Reed.



Alex was safe, I thought. Good.

Then I heard this sad, whimpering sound. I edged forward and peered around the driver's seat. The front of the bus was caved in, from where it had hit the lamppost.


Instead, I was looking at the door to the bus, which was now facing the pavement. How will we get out? I was thinking. We can't get out. The windshield was all crunched up against the hood of the engine.



She was covered in blood, but not her own, I realized, because she was trying to pull on someone's arm from between two mangled seats and I remembered Trish had been sitting next to her. The arm was limp, like a noodle, and kept slipping down out of Josie's grip. Trish was definitely dead but Josie didn't seem to be getting it.




"Christ." Brayden cursed at his minitab. "Come on!"


But my body was not responding to my conscience.

