Free Colin Fischer by Zack Stentz, Ashley Edward Miller

Elsewhere.
Marie had exposed Colin to the idea in an attempt to illustrate how things that seem to have no connection can have subtle links that bring everything together in amusing, wonderful ways. This was not at all how Colin interpreted the revelation. For Colin, imaginary stories about imaginary stories were one step too far removed from reality. 9 Still, he’d always liked Samantha.
    “I can’t give you a name yet. But we do have one,” she said.
    Mr. Fischer rose again. “I don’t need a name, ma’am,” he said, “Just do me and my son a favor: Whoever it was, please nail him, her, or it to the wall.”
    Colin could see his father was very SERIOUS , although he was intrigued by the reference to an “it.” Over the years, Colin had come to realize his parents tended toward sensational, figurative language to make a point. This was probably one of those times.
    Dr. Doran nodded solemnly, then stepped out from the podium. Her thumb and forefinger formed a “0.” It meant:
    “Zero. Tolerance.”
    Applause erupted from the audience, endorsing the principal’s get-tough attitude. Colin just wished they could have endorsed her more quietly.
    The next day , West Valley High School buzzed with response to Dr. Doran’s big meeting. Everywhere Colin went, people talked about her closing pronouncements to the exclusion of nearly everything else.
    In the hallway, Abby told Melissa with CONCERN , “Did you hear? They’re gonna try him as an adult….”
    “…
Zero tolerance
…” Eddie repeated to Stan, GRAVE .
    “…because the cops found three boxes of ammo in his locker,” an ASTONISHED Cooper revealed to a gaggle in study hall, just after the bell. Colin didn’t know if this was true or not, but doubted Cooper would have this information. Colin said nothing.
    Instead, he sat in study hall and wrote in his Notebook:
         Wayne Connelly is not in school today. He is the unnamed suspect.
    Melissa approached and took a seat next to Colin. “Hello, Melissa,” he said. “How are you today?”
    “Okay, I guess,” she replied. “I mean, wow. What a day, right?”
    Colin stared at her blankly, concerned that he had missed her meaning.
    “Yesterday. The gun?”
    “Oh, the gun,” Colin said. “Very interesting.”
    She tossed her hair. It smelled like strawberries. Colin liked strawberries. “It was interesting all right.” Melissa smiled at him. It was not a smile Colin recognized, but he felt no compulsion to look away and refer to his cheat sheet. “That was really brave of you, how you were the only one who didn’t run. Weren’t you scared at all?”
    “No,” Colin replied. “Everyone was running away, so whoever fired the gun must have stopped.”
    She peered at his Notebook. Colin generally made it a point to guard its contents, but once again his reaction ran counter to his usual instincts. He focused instead on the spray of light freckles across Melissa’s nose. Suddenly, Colin developed an inexplicable craving for strawberry shortcake—which seemed odd, given its mushy texture.
    Melissa looked at him, having read the page. Multiple emotions rippled across her face, too fast and too mixed up for Colin to lock in on any one of them.
    “Wayne Connelly?” she asked.
    “He isn’t in school today.”
    “He’s been a creep and a bully since we were all in kindergarten, but I never thought he’d actually shoot someone.” Melissa fell silent for a moment. She looked away from Colin. Her face scrunched up a little. Then she turned back to him with a frown. “I guess he won’t be crashing any more parties to steal my cake, huh?”
    Colin blinked. “
Cake
,” he said. He considered this word for a very long time. When he looked up again, Melissa was gone.
    Colin scribbled furiously in his Notebook, then gathered his books and went for the door. The study hall monitor stopped him. His name was Mr. Bell, and he taught band. Band was a subject Colin endeavored to avoid at all