It was the first time he’d felt that outside of the Room, and he clung to it tightly.

Chapter Forty-One

Héctor left lunch with an odd feeling brewing in his stomach, something in between relief and a bubbling nervousness. He was lost in himself when he rounded the corner and found himself next to the Room.

He came to a dead stop and ran his fingers over the wooden frame. He’d ignored this place for a week, convinced that his friends would be disappointed in him. But . . . he was the one who had given up on them, hadn’t he? And it was Mike who had put these dark ideas in his mind.

An announcement broke his silence. “Students,” said Vice Principal Giles, “as a reminder, please head straight to the auditorium tomorrow morning instead of your first classes. The spirit assembly will start at eight forty-five a.m. sharp. Thank you!”

Assembly? He vaguely recalled Mrs. Torres mentioning it in homeroom, but the past few days had blended together into a haze.

No, he couldn’t let Mike have this much control over his life.

It was finally time.

He wrenched the door open, and the Room appeared as Sal’s cozy library, books lining the walls in tightly packed shelves. There were three majestic upholstered chairs in the middle of the Room, and two of them were occupied, one by Sal, who was eating some savory-smelling noodles in a flower-patterned blouse, and the other by Juliana, who had her nose buried in a graphic novel, her hair now in a set of box braids.

“Héctor?” she said, dropping the book to the floor, and then both of them were on their feet, and they rushed to Héctor, then wrapped their arms around him.

“Where you been, dude?” said Sal.

“We missed you so much!” said Juliana.

“And we’re so, so sorry we couldn’t help you,” said Sal.

“Help me?” Héctor stepped back from them. “But I was the one who didn’t help you.”

“Bruh, what are you talking about?” asked Juliana.

“Moving books last week,” he said. “I stood y’all up.”

“That’s okay!” said Sal. “Half the school showed up to help. It was amazing! You didn’t really miss anything.”

“Still, I feel terrible,” said Héctor. “I couldn’t be there for you.”

“We should have been there for you, Héctor,” said Juliana. “We should have said something.”

He put his hands in his hair, frustrated. “Yo, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The realization spread across Juliana’s face first. “Oh no,” she said. “Sal, he doesn’t know we saw it.”

Sal gasped.

“Saw what?”

Oh no.

No, no, no.

They couldn’t have.

Juliana grimaced. “What happened to you.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

He was right back there: in the hallway. Mike was in his face. The groan he’d heard . . .