As the dance went on, a lot of kids were spent. If they'd been college students or adults, this would be the part where they'd crack open bottles or huddle up to smoke weed and do drugs. But this group hadn't collectively lost their minds—not enough to pull that kind of stunt in broad daylight, in a public park, right under a certain Student Council President's nose.
Still, people started drifting away in twos and threes. Maya didn't stop them. Her perimeter guards were set up to keep people out, not fence people in.
These were older students. The youngest were twelve or thirteen. They'd been to Central Park a hundred times. There was zero risk of them getting lost like the little kids.
Around five o'clock, the teachers leading the younger groups started trickling back. Maya went over and personally called roll for every single group. Her planning had paid off—not a single kid missing.
Just when she thought the day was going to end on a perfect note, Nana came staggering toward her at a run, yelling: "Maya! It's bad, Madam President! Something terrible happened to Madam President!"
Faced with the tall Black girl barreling straight at her, President Maya shot out her right hand and pressed her palm between Nana's two ample assets, stopping the collision cold.
"Calm down. I'm fine. Nothing happened to me. Have you lost your mind?"
Nana didn't seem to hear a word. Her eyes were swollen and red, tears and snot smeared across her face. "Maya... sob... it's Andrew... sob... Andrew and Liz, they—they were... I found them sneaking around in the bushes and... waaaaaah..."
Wait. What? That's... a lot of information. Give me a second.
Maya pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to sort through the chaos. First: American party culture was truly, unequivocally toxic. These were elementary schoolers, and they'd already—sob, sob—started a little "train" of their own.
Second: Nana had said she was going to use Andrew as a backup boyfriend. So Nana and Andrew had been dating? Which made Liz the homewrecker who'd swooped in as the other woman? Or had Andrew gotten bored of Nana and dumped her for a newer model? That would explain why Nana was this devastated.
Third: how to contain this. They were in Central Park, not on home turf. Nana had come sprinting over screaming the whole way, so by now everyone and their mother knew. Maya needed to handle this fast—Central Park wasn't open 24/7, and the gates closed at five-thirty. Clock was ticking.
Since Nana had come to her this upset, seeking comfort, Maya figured the least she could do was console her girl. "Nana, Andrew's my neighbor. He's been no good since the day he was born. This whole cheating thing just proves what a garbage human being he is. Don't waste your tears on him. I'll introduce you to someone way better, I promise. And as for that little bitch Liz, I'll deal with her for—"
Before Madam President could finish, Nana's eyes flew wide open. She cut in: "Maya, what are you talking about? Cheating? I broke up with Andrew last week. I'm the one who dumped him."
The President went speechless. So did every teacher and classmate within earshot.
"Then, Nana—if this isn't about your boyfriend cheating—why exactly are you crying like the world just ended?"
At that, Nana seemed to remember something horrifying. A violent shudder ran through her whole body and the tears came pouring again. "Maya... sob... it's way worse than cheating! Andrew's... his... his little willy... Liz cut it off... sob... there's blood, blood everywhere, it's so scary... waaaaaah..."
"Whoa. That bad? Did Andrew try to force himself on Liz or something?" a classmate blurted out.
"N-no! Sob—it was totally consensual—sob..."
Nana had transformed into a sobbing machine—every other sentence dissolved into wailing.
President Maya fixed the crowd with a sharp glare, cutting off the chaotic speculation. She turned to a middle-aged female teacher. "Ms. Hannah—call an ambulance. Right now."
Ms. Hannah nodded and pulled out her phone. Madam President turned back to Nana. "Nana, take me to where it happened. I know some first aid—Andrew needs the bleeding stopped immediately."
"Matt Murdock—you and your group stay here. The second that ambulance arrives, lead the paramedics to Andrew's location."
"Council members—coordinate with the teachers and get the younger students onto the school buses and home. Now."
"William Beck, gather up all the older students in the area. Nobody leaves. Keep them right here."
Madam President rattled off the orders rapid-fire. Once everyone nodded confirmation, she grabbed Nana's hand and took off running.
Following Nana's directions, Maya sprinted while her mind raced. Why on Earth had Liz castrated Andrew?
Maybe Andrew was one of those guys—harmless face, rotten core. A smooth-talking two-timer. And Liz had discovered the real Andrew, pushed past her breaking point, and gone full New York Cleaver Story on him.
Did our school just produce its very own Makoto?
(Author's note: Makoto is the infamously promiscuous protagonist of the visual novel School Days. Look him up yourselves; I won't go into it here.)
The Nice Boat ending was already a cautionary tale for the ages. Andrew's... severance incident was going to scare a whole bunch of promiscuous Americans senseless.
And then Madam President's theory got blown to pieces, because her senses had already locked onto Andrew's location—and he was completely innocent.
She dropped Nana's hand and accelerated toward Andrew on her own.
Shoving through the ring of gawking classmates and tourists, Maya forced her way to Andrew's side. "Boys—link hands and form a wall around this area. Keep the crowd back. Girls—run back to the event site and wait for the ambulance."
The students saw it was President Maya and latched onto her like a lifeline. A human barrier went up in seconds, cutting the scene off from onlookers.
Liz was huddled in the corner of a thicket, clothes disheveled, head buried in her arms, crying. Andrew lay on the ground, face chalk-white, completely naked, both hands clamped over his groin. All he could manage were faint hissing breaths—he didn't seem to have the strength to scream.
Madam President took one look at Andrew's thread-thin breathing and immediately peeled back his left eyelid. His eyes were rolling back, whites showing. She examined the blood on the ground.
...None of this was actually necessary. It was all for show—Andrew's exact condition had been crystal clear to her senses long before she knelt down.
Bottom line: Andrew was in bad shape. Severe blood loss. Teetering on the edge of shock.
A moment's thought, and Madam President decided she couldn't just stand by and watch him die. After all, Andrew had been her friend for over a decade.
"Does anyone have a knife?" Maya stood and asked quickly.
Students looked at each other, blank-faced. Nobody spoke up.
"Would this work?" A tourist held out a small, still-sealed decorative curved knife. The rune-work on it had a vaguely ancient Persian feel.
"Yes. Thank you."
Maya took it without hesitation. If there hadn't been so many witnesses around, she wouldn't have needed a prop at all.