Holly's POV
I guess that there's good in anyone, even if it takes something horrible to prove it to you.
I had never liked Casey Acosta, I never thought he was good enough for Sammy. I mean, come on! He's Heather's brother, the same Heather who had been picking on, mocking, foiling, outright attacking Sammy from day one! Try and tell me he's not planning something, or cheating on her, or scheming with his sister, or just using her. I know that blood runs deeper than that, I know that it wouldn't take some girl to pull their family apart.
At least that's what I thought.
What did I know?
Flashback
"Sammy, come on, we're gonna be late!" Marissa called. Sammy, Dot, her, and I raced toward class.
"I'm telling you, he's planning something!" Sammy said. "Did I tell you what I heard him say yesterday?"
"A hundred times," Dot scoffed.
"Please," said Marissa, "the guy's grades suck, of course he's gonna be mad that he flunked English."
"How do you even know he flunked? Just because he was ranting that he knew he was gonna flunk…" I rolled my eyes.
Sammy shrugged. "Well, we'll find out." She waved as Marissa and Dot headed off to math, and Sammy and I headed to English.
As we walked in class, Sammy shot a look at the guy who had been the subject of our earlier debate.
Matthew Tarson, shot a look back at Sammy, and she ducked her head.
"I tell you Holly, he's up to something, he's-"
Her sentence was cut off by the teacher's entrance.
She began passing out our essays. Those with A-s or higher would get the esteemed privilege of reading their essays out loud in front of the class. It almost made you want to try for B.
Sammy groaned. I leaned over and saw the A- on her sheet. I gave her a sympathizing look.
Behind us, Matthew Tarson cussed under his breath. Looks like he got the F he expected.
This being the last class in our last day before Christmas break, we spent the whole class having essays read.
Sammy slunk low in her chair, to avoid being called on.
It looked like it was going to work. As class's end drew nearer, the teacher seemed to not have noticed Sammy's absence from reading.
Tarson excused himself to go to the bathroom.
Most likely trying to skip the end of class, I thought.
The bell was about to ring, when the teacher checked her list.
"Samantha Keyes, would you like to read your essay?"
This wasn't a question, and, defeated, Sammy made her way to the front of the class. She quickly began to read her essay.
Behind her, Tarson reentered the classroom, something in his right hand.
I was only able to recognize the gun in his hand as he pulled it up to Sammy's head.
She paused in her reading as everyone's eyes grew huge.
She reached up to feel what had poked her in the head.
"Don't move," Tarson said, menacingly, "or she dies."
Sammy seemed to realize the situation she was in. Her hand dropped to her side, her eyes wide, her faced deathly pale.
"Stay seated. Stay where I can see you. Hands on your desks."
Silently, everyone complied.
There was a silence in the room, when right outside the door, I saw Casey walk by.
His eyes widened at what was going on. His eyes met mine. I wanted to tell him to leave, to not endanger Sammy, but I knew that any motion I made would draw attention to him.
Slowly, he made his way into the room.
Everyone in class were staring at Tarson, ignoring Casey best they could.
Quickly, Casey landed a stunning blow on Tarson's head. Perfectly executed, it caused a momentary stun on Tarson, enough for Sammy to dive away.
Recovering, Tarson shot at her, hitting her shoulder.
Sammy gave a small scream, crumpling to the ground.
I was stunned for a second, before I was able to act. I ran toward Tarson, determined to help Sammy.
Tarson raised the gun and fired at Sammy, defenseless and half-conscious on the ground.
But the bullet never reached its target.
Instead, it buried itself between the shoulder blades of her boyfriend, who had leaped in the way to save her.
I landed a blow on Tarson's head, one Sammy had taught me. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
I rushed over to Sammy and Casey.
His eyes met mine.
"I loved her. T-tell her that…"
Later at the hospital, I could imagine what I'd tell Sammy.
"She's conscious," one of the nurses came out to tell me. "You can see her now."
Hesitantly, I entered her room.
She looked up at me, smiling weakly.
"You were wrong on two accounts, Holly. One, you were wrong about Tarson. Two, you were wrong about Casey. He pushed me out of the way, Holly. He risked his life for me. Tell me that he never liked me." She gave me a weak, but triumphant smile, glad that she had exonerated Casey. "Where is he now?"
"O-oh, S-Sammy," I whispered.
Words could not describe what I felt.
Words can never convey the strongest feelings.
Like I said, there truly is good in everyone.