NATHAN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - "GIRL IN THE BLUE SWEATER"

OCTOBER 4TH, THURSDAY

"CALL ME IF anything feels wrong, or if you want to leave halfway-" Elliot started as we walked away from his parked Mercedes, one of his hands stuck in the pocket of his black, sleek bomber jacket. I pulled on the white strings of the red hoodie, wrapping them around my fingers and watched as they unravelled themselves and fell from my fingertips.

"Eli, it's just a group therapy session, I'm sure I can handle it," I interrupted, mustering up a smile just long enough for Elliot to turn away. He sighed, pausing in front of the school's entrance resting a hand on my shoulder.

He pulled me into a quick embrace before releasing from the tight grip. "I'll wait for you by the usual place after school."

I nodded, fumbling with the silver tag by my neck as we walked into school, and before he turned away and started walking in the opposite direction towards his classroom, he ruffled my hair. "Bye, love you."

"Love you too," I murmured, watching as his figure walked towards the opposite direction, his back getting smaller and smaller as he walked further away.

Walking along the direction of my class mindlessly, my fingers trailing against the wall opposite of the lockers, the particular, familiar hallway that I had previously desperately avoided came into view.

As I wondered how I even arrived at the hallway, as if on instinct, my legs brought me closer and closer towards the locker that I used to wait by, standing and shifting my weight from one leg to another as I waited patiently for him.

And he'd shake his head at me, saying that I should stop waiting for him and just get to my classes, but I never listened to him.

I don't know if he realised it, but whenever he huffed at me in disapproval and rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips would always be raised into a smile.

And that was the reason why I always refused to listen to him.

Without him, the locker that stood in front of me seemed bare and naked, an empty well that desperately needed its fill of water. Even with the scatter of stickers plastered onto the cold surface, and pieces of notes with endearing phrases onto them, the locker was incredibly bare.

And the flowers.

I couldn't look a second more.

Our lunch table was quiet.

I tugged harder on the red hood of my hoodie, pulling it down and over my head and over the brown curls. I bit down on my bottom lip, letting the white drawstring that I had previously been chewing on fall.

I wore my usual clothes, my red hoodie with blue jeans, and a pair of white sneakers.

I went to all my usual lessons that morning, Maths, English, Geography and French.

I sat in my usual seat, across the wooden table from Spencer, Alex and Ro, and Myles sitting by my left.

I followed my schedule, my usual routine.

But nothing felt the same.

My fingers tightened against the red fabric of the hem of my hoodie, the ache in my chest getting worse by the moment while my breath hitched at the sensation. It burned, it stung, it throbbed and thrummed.

The past two days were a blur. I didn't leave my bed, and I drifted between mainly sobbing into my bed, to staring blankly into the corner where the red beanbag sat, and clinging onto Elliot since I just needed some sort of human warmth.

He'd hug me back and murmur sentences like, "It's all right." and, "I'm here for you."

They were nice, but they weren't Lucas'.

The group continued to be silent for the next few moments, the loud chattering from the other tables unable to cover the loud drumming of my heart, landing with a stabbing pain with each thrum.

My appetite was practically non-existent, and the mere smell from the other tables made my skin crawl. I squeezed down on the edge of my seat, knuckles turning a ghostly white from the force.

Finally, I lifted my head up and glanced towards the others, not wanting to know, or just not caring about, how horrid or distraught my appearance was.

I looked at Alex, whose mouth would usually never be shut, and who seemed to be on a neverending adrenaline rush, sink lower and lower into his seat.

I looked at Spencer and the dark circles beneath his eyes. His left elbow was rested on the table, his fingers buried into his dark, curly hair as he looked down towards the blue tray in front of him, propping himself against his hand.

I looked at Ro, whose eyes were slightly bloodshot and glistening in the light. Her fingers were tapping a quick and anxious rhythm on the flat surface of the table, her gaze darting around, landing anywhere but to the seat right of me.

I looked at Myles, who was drastically different was the rest of us. His features were calm and composed as he took a bite from his apple. His expression was neutral, and his eyes weren't shimmering with tears like the rest of us.

His features never quite expressed what he was feeling, which was an aspect of him that I had so desperately envied.

But, out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers tremble slightly.

As if sensing my stare, he turned towards me, his blue eyes glimmering with concern as he looked into my green ones. He leaned toward me and asked softly, "You okay?"

His fingers were still trembling.

The thoughts immediately dispersed, and the words were stuck to the back of my throat. I shook my head, tilting my head down and turning back forward, not wanting to meet his eyes with mine any longer.

We all had one thing on our mind, and we all knew it, but none of us dared to talk about it.

The group continued to be silent for the next few moments, the loud chattering from the other tables unable to cover the loud drumming of my heart, landing with a stabbing pain with each thrum.

The silver dog tag around my neck that I held so dearly now seemed to burn, stinging any piece of skin that came to contact with it.

The silence was unbearable, the deafening calm made my skin crawl, on the table that was too big for the mere five of us.

"Has, uh," I paused, breaking the silence and biting down on my bottom lip before releasing it. I fidgeted with the red sleeves of my hoodie, hearing my voice get quieter and quieter by the word.

Everyone glanced towards me, all bewildered that I had been the one to start the conversation. I didn't want to. I just couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Has anyone here been to the school group counselling, therapy thing?" I asked, still quiet.

The sound of anxious tapping came to a halt, ensued by Ro's regularly bubbly voice in a concerned tone, asking, "You've got group counselling?"

I nodded.

"The school said that it'd be helpful for me to attend the sessions for, uh, a month, I think?" I hesitated, searching from my mind for when mom called me on the phone about the matter. My mind was clouded with the pure dread radiating from the seat next to me, and everything began to hurt again.

"Something like that," I murmured.

"Oh," She rested, blinking for a few moments before continuing, "Do you wanna go?"

"I don't know," I scratched the back of my neck, swallowing the strong, "No." back down into my throat. I let out an uneasy chuckle. "I'm kind of nervous, but I guess I'll get to meet new people?"

Ro nodded in agreement, shooting me an encouraging smile, and I couldn't help but smile softly back at her enthusiasm.

"When are they?" She asked, leaning forwards slightly.

"Every Thursday, last period," I said.

"But that's so dumb," Alex said, causing us to turn to him. He gestured with his hands as he spoke. "Why are they forcing you to go to group counselling? Why did they even make the group counselling sessions in the first place? Don't we already have a school counsellor, uh-" He paused. "-What's her name again?"

"Mrs Lillie," Myles answered.

Alex squinted his eyes at the unfamiliar name, and I turned to my left, tilting my head to the side in confusion as to how he knew her name.

He took a sip of his water.

"The school started their group counselling program to pretend like they care, and force random students with different problems to attend the meetings," Spencer stated, putting down his fork with the rest of the utensils on the tray. "They just told the school councillor the program and left all the work to her."

Spencer sighed, running his fingers through his curly hair. "Poor lady's probably overworked, being forced to keep up with teenagers that the school just dumps into her program and schedule so that they'd be viewed as proper and responsible-"

"Can't the student council do something about it?" Ro questioned, to which Spencer shook his head in response.

"The parents think it's a good idea, plus, it holds up the school's reputation, so we can't really change anything," He explained. Ro furrowed her brows together, but nodded none the less.

"As I was saying, so, obviously, they'd put Nathan into the program, and he'd be forced to go to the group counselling sessions. Because, of, well-" Spencer hesitated, his lips slightly parted as he tore his gaze away from my right.

He shook his head, sighing. "-You get the point."

He turned to me, saying, "Listen, Nathan, don't worry about it, you just sit around for an hour and talk."

I forced out another fake smile.

"I guess."

And as those two words escaped from between my lips, another period of silence ensued.

The quick discussion previous to the silence did little to nothing to help with the tense atmosphere, and if anything, the mention of group counselling, and more importantly, the reasoning for it, made it worse.

The chatter in the background didn't help, and the absence of words from all of us from the table made the fact more and more obvious.

And soon, the silence grew deafening once more.

I looked down.

"Spencer, can you please tell the student council that the school food is shit?"

Myles, who had broken the silence, stabbed his fork into the food aggressively, leaning back and crossing his arms in front of his chest as the fork balanced itself into the stiff, firm pile of mush. "This looks like it belongs at the bottom of the ocean floor."

Alex raised both his hands, motioning wildly. "That's what I've been saying! The school food looks like if you squeezed a fish and turned the stuff that got squeezed out into a weird, nasty goop."

Spencer blinked. "You what, now?"

Alex crossed his arms. "I stand by what I said."

"How do you even know what a squeezed fish- Whatever," Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. "Alex, I know the food here isn't the most appetizing, but I don't think comparing it to squeezed marine animals is the most appropriate comparison."

"I'll stop comparing it to squeezed fish when it stops looking like a squeezed fish."

Ro picked at her plate of food. "I mean, Alex kind of has a point, it looks-" She gathered some of the food on her fork, letting it fall back down into the pile with a wet noise. "Uh, it's confusing, to say the least."

I let out a laugh, not quite sure what I was laughing at myself. I just wanted something, anything, to distract myself from the burn in my chest.

The sound of chattering no longer just came from other tables, and our table was back to the original state that it had been in.

Myles took another sip of his water, as nonchalant as ever.

But in the back of my mind, the table still seemed too big.

I paused in front of the door, tugging at the hood of my red hoodie that was pulled over my head, the concept of group counselling still foreign to my mind.

I wondered if I should knock, or if I could just open the door and stroll in, or if I should just wait until someone else comes and-

"Hey, uh." A voice came from behind me. "Are you here for the group counselling?"

I turned back, and came face to face with a girl who was about my height, wearing a sky blue sweater. She brushed her pale, short brown hair out of her brown eyes as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her heels, an awkward smile on her lips.

A familiar beat raced through me, and I froze for a moment, not knowing what to do with the quick thrumming of my chest.

She waved. "Um, hi."

Thump.

I blinked, immediately smiling back and pulling down my hood, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, hi!"

"So," She said, dragging out the word as she glanced behind us and towards the door, her hands on the straps of her backpack. She gestured towards the door, pointing at it. "Are you, like, here for the group counselling? Because you can just, like, go in."

"Oh, okay!" I acknowledged, opening the door and stepping in after the girl, smiling back when she murmured a quick thanks and shot me another smile. The room was still empty, but there were already chairs set up in a circle, each a different, vibrant shade of colour.

I watched as the girl took a seat in a green chair, placing her bag on the floor. I bit down on my bottom lip, not knowing what to do.

She looked up at me, confused as to why I was standing still in the middle of the classroom. She opened her mouth, but closed it and let out a, "Oh." understanding the situation. "Are you new?"

I nodded.

"Right, yeah, should've guessed." She let out an embarrassed chuckle, looking around the classroom and gesturing to the circle of seats. "We're pretty early, so you just, uh, take a seat and wait for people to come in."

"Oh, okay," I said, taking a seat next to the girl. "My name's Nathan, by the way. "

She blinked, looking kind of shocked for a few moments before turning away. "Right."

We both sat there in complete, awkward, and uncomfortable silence.

Thump.

"So," I started, scratching the back of my neck as I thought about what to say to the girl next to me. My eyes darted around, looking for subject matters to say and talk about, before settling on, "How long do you usually have to wait for?"

"Uh, around ten minutes or so? Mrs Lillie is always just, off to somewhere, so there really isn't a set time," She explained, to which I nodded, wondering about the kind of teacher this Mrs Lillie was. She continued, "The others come quicker though, so it's not as awkward as, you know-" She gestured at herself. "-This."

I felt the corners of my lips raise, watching as the sun shined into the classroom through the windows. "I don't think you're awkward."

The girl raised one of her brows, almost in disbelief. "Oh my god, if you don't think I'm awkward, then you have way too low standards for people." She blinked, immediately continuing with, "I didn't mean that in a bad way, or anything, I'm just, like, not very good with people, and stuff."

She sighed, her cheeks flushed as she sunk into the back of her seat. "Sorry."

Thump.

I laughed, amused by her bright, red cheeks and her obviously embarrassed demeanour. I grinned, softly saying, "It's okay."

She bounced her leg up and down, clearly still quite self-conscious and flustered about the situation. I frowned slightly at her embarrassed expression, continuing with my attempted comforting, "Honestly, don't worry about it." I grinned. "Who isn't a little bit awkward?"

She smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

Her smile was nice.

Pretty, even.

The students poured into the classroom, filling the chairs and the room with laughter and chatter. I found my gaze drifting towards her, and confused at the odd sense of familiarity that she brought.

Maybe it was her pale, brown hair, shimmering as the light reflected off of it, maybe it was her brown eyes that seemed like pools of melted bronze as the sun seeped through the windows, or maybe it was the colour of the sweater that hung loosely from her frame.

The soft, but piercing blue.

Thump.

"Have we met before?" She turned her head towards me, confused at my question, and I could feel the warmness creep up to my cheeks. "Sorry, you just seem familiar, but I don't, like, actually remember if I've actually talked to you before."

She widened her eyes in surprise, but then furrowed her brows together as she tried to recall a piece of memory.

"I, uh, I don't think so?" She let out a nervous chuckle. "I've got a sister, so maybe that's why? Her name's Bethany, maybe you've seen her around before."

I tried to gather up my thoughts, to remember if I've ever seen someone with pale locks that resembled hers, with a thin and slender frame that clothing hung off of.

Thump.

With a gentle and soft glimmer in their eyes, with an anxious habit of rambling, with a soft spot for raw fish that I never understood, and with developed interest on flowers that I will, again, never understand.

Thump.

With a weird passion for maths and numbers, with baby blue eyes that shined and twinkled whenever his favourite book is mentioned, and with pale, light blonde hair that shimmered under the light.

Thump.

I swallowed what seemed like rocks in the back of my throat, and forced a smile onto my lips.

"No, I don't think I've seen her before." I smiled, ignoring the ache in my chest. "Maybe it's just my imagination." I shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter anyway."

She nodded, and turned her attention to the front of the classroom as a woman, who I assumed was Mrs Lillie, walked into the classroom with multiple files in her left hand, and a cup of coffee in her other.

She began talking, and I sunk into my seat.

I pushed him to the back of my head.

Thump.

Doesn't really matter anyway.