The next day, he had a math exam. Olivia Parker still wasn't there. Thomas sat at his usual desk, as all exams were held in their own classroom. John sat somewhere at the back, alone. Ethan, noticing that Thomas and John weren't talking, seemed even more smug than usual.
A tall woman entered the room. She looked a bit like Olivia Parker but had long, blonde hair and seemed younger.
She was saying something about the exam, but Thomas wasn't listening. He glanced at Julia, who was sitting not far from Ethan. Noticing his gaze, she smiled, but he turned away.
When Thomas looked at the tasks, he realized he knew nothing. He was among the first to hand in his paper, having written something at random. It turned out Ethan had also submitted his work, but he seemed to have written everything. Thomas, however, didn't care at all; he just grabbed his backpack and left, glancing at John, who also looked up at him. Thomas walked out and was almost at the exit when suddenly heard:
"Tachful."
It was Ethan, but this time, he was alone.
"What do you want?"
"So, are you enemies now?"
"I don't understand what you mean," Thomas said, looking at him. Ethan, as always, was wearing a suit, his hands tucked into his pockets.
"Derkins and Tachful have become enemies," Ethan said smugly. "This is so epic. I never thought it would come to this."
"Shut up."
"And it's all because of that girl who lived with you. I mean, you were in love with her—Julia told me about it."
"I don't care what Julia told you," Thomas replied, his voice trembling with irritation.
"Poor girl, falling victim to someone like you."
"What are you talking about?"
"You wanted to ruin Julia too. I know it, but I protected her from you."
"Enough!" Thomas shouted. "You know nothing!" He stepped closer to Ethan, anger surging through him. "Nothing at all."
Thomas nervously stepped back and went outside. "Could Ethan really know something?" he thought. Suddenly, he remembered Julia, and a wave of hatred washed over him. "Telling Ethan things she barely understood herself. It's none of her damn business, " he thought bitterly.
But maybe she was right. Maybe Thomas really had been in love with Carol, that's why he was now suffering so much. "No, damn it! We were just friends. I was just helping her—I was supposed to protect her, that's all" he thought.
Or perhaps it wasn't that simple. Maybe he couldn't stand her being with someone else, and that's why he'd thrown her out. Maybe it wasn't about protection at all but about love—about jealousy.
Thomas exhaled heavily and stopped, sitting on a nearby bench. "I'm tired of living like this. I can't take it anymore," he thought.
"Hello, Thomas," a voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.
Thomas turned around. It was Richard.
"I know what happened. It's terrible."
Thomas looked at him. Richard's gray hair made him look older than ever, especially under the dim streetlights. He sat down beside Thomas.
"I understand how you feel right now, Thomas."
"No one can understand me," Thomas replied quietly.
"Only someone who has felt the same pain as you can understand you."
"How do you even know about all this? Have you been following me?" Thomas asked warily.
"It's been all over the news, Thomas."
Thomas sighed. "Who told everyone what happened?"
"I did," Richard said suddenly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
Thomas couldn't believe his ears. "Why would you do that?"
"There was no point in hiding it," Richard said calmly. "Sooner or later, the truth would've come out anyway."
"How could you do that?" Thomas asked, his voice rising. "You knew everything from the start, didn't you? But why was it only reported that Carol disappeared and not that she was dead?"
"I think they assumed she had gone missing. They weren't entirely sure about my statements," Richard replied calmly. "They interrogated me, but they decided I didn't have anything valuable to share, so they let me go."
"But now everyone knows she's dead!"
"Yes, and from the way you've been trying to find the killer, it's clear you didn't kill her. That's why I knew the suspicion wouldn't fall on you. Besides, you liked her."
"What makes you think that?" Thomas demanded angrily. "And why are you meddling in my life? How is it better now, with everyone knowing what really happened?"
"What would you have done instead? Told everyone that Carol was alive and living with you, happy and healthy?" Richard asked, his tone steady.
Thomas remained silent.
"I understand how you feel," Richard said, his voice softening. "You're devastated. Every time someone mentions Carol, it's like you're burning up inside. You don't want to talk about it with anyone—not even the people you seemed to trust the most."
Thomas suddenly stood up. "What are you even talking about? Are you actually stalking me?" he asked, glaring at Richard with suspicion.
"I'm just concerned about you, Thomas, that's all."
"It doesn't feel like concern. It feels like you're trying to pry something out of me," Thomas shot back.
Richard smiled faintly. "Why would I need to dig for something that's already obvious?"
"Nothing is obvious," Thomas snapped. "You're just following me!" He turned and walked away, his frustration boiling over.
Thomas was furious with Richard for meddling in his business, for taking an interest in things that weren't his to worry about. Truthfully, he didn't believe Richard was genuinely concerned about him. "Or maybe I'm just overthinking again, " Thomas thought bitterly. "Maybe Richard was right—I don't want to talk to anyone about this, not even the people I trust. I've shut myself off from everyone, and now I see them all as enemies. "
"How are you, son?" his mother suddenly asked when Thomas entered the house.
"Mom, do you ever talk to that man?"
His mother looked at Thomas with some confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean Richard. Have you ever spoken to him?"
"Almost never. Why? Did something happen again?"
"I'm just asking, but try to stay as far away from him as possible, okay?"
"Why? Did he do something?"
"I don't know, Mom. It just feels like everyone has become enemies."
Thomas sat down on the couch.
His mother approached and hugged him.
Thomas suddenly recalled how Carol had kissed him for the first time at Taylor's house. She had apologized then, and it had been so unexpected. Just like the time when Julia danced with him and her lips brushed his.
Thomas flinched at the mere thought of Julia. Thinking about her made him feel sick, and he hated himself even more because of it.
"But you know that's not true, right?"
"I don't know. I can't find the killer, and I'm not sure I ever will. If he kills someone else, I won't be able to take it. I can't take it now, Mom."
"Don't say that, Thomas. You're not thinking of..."
"Killing myself? You think I could do that?"
"Don't even think about it. Forget about the killer. Just live your life and don't think about the rest."
"So, you're suggesting I just forget about Carol's death and continue living a quiet and peaceful life?"
His voice trembled.
"We should see a doctor."
"You think I'm sick?"
"You're not sick, but for my sake, Thomas, let's go to a psychiatrist, okay?"
"Damn." Thomas gave a crooked smile but said nothing in return.
"I'm just scared, Thomas. Scared of where this might lead."
"Fine, I'll go with you, but only for your sake, okay?"
"I've scheduled an appointment for you at five o'clock tomorrow evening."
"So, without even knowing if I'd agree, you booked an appointment? Were you planning to drag me there by force?"
"I just knew you wouldn't refuse me, Thomas."
Thomas looked at his mother and let out a heavy sigh.
"And what if I had plans?"
"You don't have any plans other than searching for that killer," his mother replied.
"So, you really think I'm crazy?"
"I didn't say that. It's just that you seem to see nothing but revenge, and I don't think that's normal."
"That's because it's true, Mom. Don't you understand? I can only think about one thing: how to kill the one who did this to Carol. I've told you this many times already."
"Revenge leads to nothing good," his mother suddenly said, her hand twitching nervously.
Thomas was silent for a moment.
"I don't care," he said.
"Thomas, you know I'm doing all this…"
"For my own good, right? Yes, Mom, I've heard that before."
"I just want to do everything for you, Thomas, because I have no one else."
"Now I understand why Dad left you. You're always saying the same thing." Thomas stood up.
Hearing those words, his mother silently looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. She wiped them away with her hand. Thomas glanced at her.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I just don't know what I'm saying. Dad really treated you terribly. Forgive me."
His mother said nothing. Thomas went to his room.
"What an idiot I am. Mom isn't to blame for anything". He was just angry because she worried about him—that's all.
For a while, Thomas simply sat in his room, but eventually, he came out. His mother was sitting on the couch, a book in her hands. Thomas sat down beside her.
"I don't know if you can forgive me," he suddenly said. His mother kept her eyes fixed on the book, but Thomas knew she was listening attentively. "I feel so bad, so much pain. It's like I've fallen into a pit with no way out. I just want to do something that will ease my suffering, and that's revenge."
His mother placed her hand on Thomas's wrist.
"Carol is gone, but that doesn't mean you have to spend your whole life blaming yourself, Thomas. Even if you took revenge, you would still feel the same pain. Do you think avenging her would make you forget about her death? You would still blame yourself—for sending her away, for not protecting her..."
Thomas was silent for a moment, then replied,
"I promised I would settle the score with him, Mom. He didn't just kill Carol; he killed many others. Who knows how many more he'll kill? But I don't know who he is. No one does. I'm just afraid more people will die, and I won't be able to stop it."
"Could you really kill a person?"
"Do you still consider him human after everything he did?"
His mother stayed silent for a moment.
"You don't even know who the killer is."
"Yes," confirmed Thomas. "I don't know. But I promised to find him."
"And what if you fail to find him?"
Thomas suddenly stood up. He didn't want to think about failure, but he knew it was possible. Several days had already passed, and suddenly, he thought about Taylor. Was he okay now?
"Will you go with me to the psychologist or not?" his mother suddenly asked.
"I said I would go"
Thomas went to his room, feeling nervous again. Soon, he stepped outside to get some air. Suddenly, he found himself near Julia's house.
"How much time has passed? Damn," he thought. After what Ethan had told him, he hated her as much as he hated him. Thomas turned to leave when someone grabbed his elbow. He pulled his arm away but then heard a voice:
"Relax, it's me."
It was Molly.
"Molly, what are you doing here?"
"I just saw you passing by," she replied.
Thomas looked at her. She was wearing a tracksuit, her hair loose and wavy.
"How are you? I heard about the girl who lived with you. I'm really sorry."
"Let's sit down somewhere," Thomas suggested. He suddenly felt the urge to pour out all his pain to someone, although he wasn't sure if it was a wise decision.
"I'm really not doing well right now," he admitted.
"I understand"
"I don't know if anyone can truly understand me," Thomas said.
"My mom passed away recently…"
"Oh… I'm sorry," Thomas said, lowering her gaze.
They sat down on a nearby bench.
"Am I not to blame for her death?" Thomas asked, looking at Molly.
"But you didn't kill her," Molly responded.
"I caused her death, Molly," he said.
Molly suddenly placed her hand on Thomas's wrist and squeezed it gently.
"Stay strong, Thomas. You have to endure this, just as I have. If she truly meant a lot to you, I understand your pain."
For a moment, they sat in silence. Molly began to pull her hand away, but Thomas didn't let go.
"Don't leave me, Molly. You're all I have," he said.
"I'm not going anywhere, Thomas," she reassured him.
He released her hand, but he felt a strong desire to hug her, just to calm himself down. It was as if she read his thoughts because she took the initiative and hugged him. Thomas inhaled the scent of her hair and didn't resist. It felt strangely cold, devoid of any deeper emotion. But he didn't care; even that small comfort managed to soothe him, albeit briefly.
After a while, Molly let him go.
"What are you planning to do next?" she asked.
"I have to find the killer," Thomas replied.
"And what about school?"
"I don't care about school anymore. I probably failed my exams and won't get into any college, so I'll just find a job that doesn't require an education," Thomas said flatly.
"Is that really the best option?" Molly asked.
"It is for me."
Thomas suddenly felt the urge to smoke.
"Do you have any cigarettes?" he asked unexpectedly.
"No! Wait… do you smoke?"
"Yeah, I smoke when I feel bad," he admitted.
"So, you feel bad now?" Molly's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"I always feel bad. But right now, it's a little better… probably because you're here."
Thomas looked at her, and Molly smiled, lowering her gaze. The evening had grown colder.
"When I used to watch you, I always thought about how you tried to catch Ethan's attention. Honestly, it didn't interest me much," Thomas admitted.
He sighed suddenly. "Life is such a strange thing. I've thought about it a lot. When you look at a person, you can imagine all kinds of things about them based on their appearance. But when you actually talk to them, you realize how foolish you were to judge them. You thought they were boring, but they're not."
"Are you talking about me?" Molly asked with a playful smile.
"No… I didn't mean you. I was speaking in general," Thomas clarified.
"We often think all kinds of things about people, but to truly understand someone, you have to talk to them, look into their eyes, and glimpse their soul," Molly said thoughtfully.
"So, are we looking into each other's souls right now?" Thomas chuckled.
"Looks like we are," Molly replied with a small laugh. "When you're young, you can make a lot of stupid mistakes that you'll regret later."
"I already regret things," Thomas said, exhaling a sad breath.
"Nothing can ever go smoothly. There always has to be something that hurts you, upsets you, or makes you feel lonely and desolate. Everyone has problems, though sometimes it feels like you're the only one suffering while everyone else lives peaceful and happy lives"
"If only it were that simple," Thomas said. "When I first met Carol, she was smiling and cheerful, but her smile was fake."
Molly looked at him attentively.
"She had to smile, but she hated her life, Molly. She had no one. She had to sell herself just to survive. When I spoke to her, I realized how good my life was, even though I might have thought that before. But after meeting her, everything changed."
Thomas stopped and looked up at the sky. His voice trembled as he spoke.
"I felt so sorry for her. I asked my dad to rent her a place and give her a job. After she was beaten, I brought her into our home. My mom agreed, and I swore to protect her, but..."
Thomas's voice broke, and he couldn't continue.
Molly gently touched his hand.
"You need to let it all out, Thomas."
"It seemed like she went back to her old life," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "I was furious with her. I could barely contain myself. I couldn't believe she would do something like that after everything I'd done for her. I threw her out. She cried, begged for forgiveness, but I couldn't forgive her just like that. Eventually, I decided to give her another chance. But when I unlocked the door, she wasn't there".
Thomas exhaled.
"I went searching for her. It was night, and there was a storm. I got completely soaked, but I didn't care. I told the patrol officers I was going home, but I kept looking for her".
"Where did you find her?" Molly whispered.
"She was lying in a pile of trash," Thomas said, his voice barely audible. "She was barely alive. She told me it wasn't my fault, but she didn't have time to tell me who the killer was. He stabbed her to death with a knife."
Molly covered her mouth with her hand.
"That's horrifying" she whispered.
"She was literally bleeding out, and I cried over her body that I held in my hands."
"You've been through so much," Molly suddenly said. Thomas looked at her and imagined wrapping her body in his arms, her lips touching his face. He scratched the back of his head. Thinking about Carol hurt him so much he couldn't say anything more. It seemed like he felt a bit of relief, but it wasn't real. Molly placed her hand on his palm again, but Thomas stood up.
"Sorry, but it's late. Maybe I should walk you home."
"If it's not too much trouble," the girl replied, slightly embarrassed.
"Of course not," he said.
They walked in silence. Only when they were near her house Molly spoke first.
"Everything will be okay, Thomas. The main thing is not to let hatred take over you..."
He remembered his mom—she was the only one who could say something like that.
Molly suddenly hugged him. And he, as if expecting something more, pulled her closer. She stepped back. The truth was, Thomas liked Molly, but only as a friend. At that moment, standing just a meter away, he felt the urge to get to know her more intimately, though he realized it was simply a longing for love. He stepped back as well, silently calling himself a fool. For a moment, they looked at each other like a pair of lovers who couldn't part. But they weren't lovers; they were just two young people bound by something common. But that connection had no relevance to their relationship because they remained nothing more than former classmates.
"What's wrong with you?" Molly suddenly asked.
"Nothing, I was just thinking," Thomas quickly replied, turned away, and walked off, waving at Molly one last time.
He was ashamed of his thoughts and angry at himself.