Okay, here's a bit from the opening (which hasn't been edited to within an inch of its life yet). This one starts off a bit on the crazy side:
I knew the day was not going to end well as soon as I saw the gun. It bulged in the outside pocket of his backpack, unseen unless someone was looking for it. And of course I had to be the one looking for it.
Chad kept his head down in class, his pen scratching dark lines of some doodle across his paper. I couldn’t drag my eyes away from him.
He brought a gun. Damn it. He was going to follow through with this.
I was so focused on the knot of guilt in my stomach and tangle of plans to stop Chad that Bea kicked my chair to alert me class started. Of course Bea had to be in this class with the crazy kid I was supposed to be helping.
I did a quick head-count. It was Friday, last period, and next week was Spring Break. Most everyone had ditched already. There were thirteen students, including me and Chad, and our teacher.
Just enough of the students were on Chad’s list.