The slow and symphonious strum of an acoustic guitar plays on the boombox in Joel's room. His parents are out for the weekend, so he and I are spinning out on his bed on a Sunday.

"Yo, why does your quilt have so many boxes, Jo?"

"Since when do you call me Jo?" He smirks before hitting his blunt and filling the room with a thick vaporous cloud.

I cough and fall back into his pillow, feeling like I weigh exactly 592 pounds. Dang, why is gravity so strong right now? "Like, your bed? I don't think you need so many squares."

"It's just the design, Rain," he laughs.

"You're strange," I mumble sleepily and chuckle.

"Not as strange as you right now, that's for sure."

"Yo, is that 'Hotel California' playing on the radio?" I roll over and point at the radio. My eyes are practically spinning all over the place.

"Yeah, why? You like that song?"

"Hell yeah! Bro, that's my FAVORITE song."

"I thought Crazy Little Thing Called Love was your favorite. So what, you ditched it that fast?"

I punch him playfully on the shoulder. "Shut up man, you know I have like, fifty favorite songs."

"Pssht, they're not that special if there're fifty of them," he falls back over the other pillow with his hand behind his head and passes me the blunt.

"Says you! Besides," I pause to take a drag. "Hotel California is in my top twenty-five at least." I can barely get the last words out before sputtering and coughing maniacally.

"Holy shit, you are totally vegged out right now, aren't you?" Joel started to crack up.

"I feel wicked," I nod, my eyes still rolling around.

"Gnarly. And you said you'd never do this," he teases.

"You know, Jo, I say a lot of shit. But that was the old me, a different Rain with a different brain. It's like, you know you're never the same person you were yesterday, or even five minutes ago. We're always transforming, like some weird, grody, shapeshifter that looks like a human, but is just a tiny bit different on the inside."

"Yeah, a Rain with a different brain. That makes sense," Joel nods in sincere agreement.

"Mhmm, yeah man. I think Imma take a nap." My drooping eyelids are begging me to close them.

"Go for it. I'm craving something so I'm gonna go get a snack. You want anything?"

"Nah, not right now. Thanks, man," I murmur just before drifting off to light sleep.

Now maybe it's been three seconds, three minutes, or three hours. I can't tell. I can hear him ruffling a bag of chips right as my body shuts down. It's the strangest feeling, I know exactly where I am and what's happening around me even though my eyes are closed. Still, I can't lift a single limb or peel my eyes open. I'm sinking deeper and deeper into his bed, and it feels like gravity is growing hundreds of times stronger. What is happening right now? Why can't I move? I'm contemplating whether my lack of movement is a choice or not, and that's when I realize that I can hardly even twitch a muscle if I wanted to. I try to open my mouth to cry for help but nothing comes out.

Why is it suddenly so hot? Am I in hell? Am I dead and I haven't even realized it? Damn it eyes, open! Why won't they open? It's too hot to be wearing this cardigan. I'm sweating bullets. Maybe I am descending into hell. Fuck, I shouldn't have taken pot.

I am suddenly conscious that the blanket underneath me is wet. Did I really soak it in my sweat? There's a bright light over me and I shield it with my hand. I can move! I can see! But.. just where am I?

Something warm and wet trickles from my hand and onto my cheek. I wipe my face. A smear of bright red blood stares back at me, and I feel my body go numb. What the hell...

Everything around me is bright, hazy, and slow. I force myself to sit up and only then do I realize that I am laying in a pool of my own blood.

"Jo... Joel..." I gasp for breath. More smoke fills the air and squeezes around my lungs. "H.. help me..."

I glance around the room deliriously, until I finally see him sitting there on his beanbag. He's slouched over, holding a knife dripping with blood.

Did Joel fucking stab me? I have to get out of here. Now. I clutch my waist, where most of the blood is oozing from. Miraculously, I feel no pain. The adrenaline rush kicks in and I scurry off his bed and stumble through his doorway.

"Mm... Rain? You woke me up. You should've been sleeping," he groans.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" I quiver, still holding my waist and the doorway for balance.

Joel shakes his head. "Damn it, I just wanted a nice nap. Now I have to deal with this."

Joel starts walking toward me at normal speed with his hands in front of him. If only I had a weapon right now...

"Don't worry Rain, it will all be over very soon."

No, I shake my head, tears welling up behind my eyes. It can't end like this, it just can't.

I discretely grip the handle just before he lunges toward me. I swing the door closed on him and scream, but he's stronger. He swings the door back open and jumps on top of me, muffling my desperate pleas for help with his palm.

"Shhh... shhh.. no more screaming, ok?"

My vision begins to go blurry, from what I presume is a combination of my tears and excessive loss of blood. His voice fades as if he's a million miles away. Everything goes black.

***

"So, how was your date with Sweet Mary Jane?" A voice behind me asks giddily. "You down to try it again?"

"No, fuck that," I turn around and face Joel while putting both my hands up defensively. "Been there, done that, hated it."

We're back in school the very next morning following the disturbing incident. At least, it was disturbing for me. Joel, on the other hand, found it hilarious.

"It's normal, Rain. All part of the experience," he laughs as we walk towards my locker. "You felt good when it first hit, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," I pause to open the combination. "But it wasn't worth the shit that came after. It felt so real, I could've lost my mind and done something awful to you, Joel."

"Nah, I know you. You wouldn't, even if you were high. Rain? What are you looking—"

Joel peeks behind my shoulder to see a Swatzika spray painted on the inside of my locker door. There's a piece of crumbled-up notebook paper sitting on top of my neatly organized row of textbooks. I would never leave a random piece of paper there. I open it.

We know who you are. You better watch your back.

"Joel, you're seeing what I'm seeing, right? I'm not still high?"

Joel glances behind us discreetly. "Oh, I see it alright. Whoever's playing this prank thinks they're a real wisecrack." Joel snatches the paper, crumbles it up, and makes a big deal of looking around before dumping it in the trash can.

"I'll have to clean up the graffiti later," I murmur before switching out my textbooks for my morning classes and shutting my locker.

"Who would do something like that?" I whisper to Joel as we continue walking down the hall to his locker. "Do you think one of those racist skinheads from Skull Banger followed us here? Oh God, what if they go to school here!"

"Rain, I'm going to need you to calm down ok?"
Joel holds my shoulders gently and looks me right in the eyes. "Everything's going to be alright. A lot of stupid kids draw that symbol for kicks. It's probably not even connected to anyone from that night."

"I hope you're right," I sigh.

He opens his locker. To both of our surprise, his appears perfectly normal. No graffiti, no mysterious crumbled-up pieces of paper beside his usual mess.

Still, I'm not convinced. I push him away and unfold every crumbled piece of paper I can get my hands on.

"Rain! Stop it, that's MY stuff!"

I scavenge through old assignments, cheat sheets, notes from class torn out of notebooks... Finally, something strange catches my eye. It's a piece of paper with what appears to be a poem or a draft of some sort judging by all the crossed-out words. It's titled "Madam Vadoma", and there are at least two stanzas.

"Ooh, what's this, a love letter to some haughty older woman in the neighborhood? I never would have guessed you were into... dominant women?"

"Dios mío, Rain," Joel looks up and rubs his face in embarrassment. "It's not a love letter, ok? It's whatever. Just leave it."

"No, I want to know! Come on, please?" I beg. I know he can't resist my puppy dog eyes.

Joel shakes his head in annoyance. "This is gonna sound so lame. Ugh. It's a song I've been writing."

"Joel!" I gush. "That's tubular, I didn't know you wrote songs! How long have you been hiding this from me?"

"Eh, a few months? It's no big deal, really."

"Who's your muse, huh? You can't tell me this isn't based on a special someone."

"Oh, I can tell you confidently that it is not based on a special someone. Madam Vadoma, she's uh, a characterization of freedom and passion for art without any restrictions. The song's about diving so deep into something that you literally transport into another world. Y'know, shit like that."

In all the years of knowing him, I couldn't believe I'd never heard Joel say something so intricate and thoughtful. "Wow Joel, that was beautiful."

"Thanks, Rain, I appreciate that. Not to put you in a bad mood or anything but uh... it looks like this prankster is deliberately targeting you."

Why me? Joel and I were both at the club that night the neo-nazis crashed in. Before I can spiral into endless contemplation, Joel pulls me out. "Anyway, it's just a stupid prankster. I wouldn't worry too much about it," he says while patting my head affectionately.

"Mm, ok."

The next day, I open my locker to find yet another note with the red insignia and a threat.

You really thought you could get away with it, didn't you?

Get away with what? Once again, Joel makes a show of slam dunking the note into the trash so whoever the suspect is can see we're not threatened.

I want to ignore it, I really do. By now, I've survived a whole week of neo-nazi threats and I'm getting sick of it. I can't help feeling uneasy every time I walk down the halls. It's as if someone is watching, waiting for me to lose my shit.

I told Darren. He was worried at first, but eventually took on the same attitude as Joel and told me to ignore it. Joel and Darren were starting to get on my nerves. I bet they wouldn't appreciate me telling them to "just ignore it" if they were in my shoes.

Just when I think things couldn't get any worse, something really annoying happens.

"Rain, come here." Joel nods me over to his locker with his hands in his pants pockets. "Closer."

"What?"

Joel quickly shoves something into my cardigan pocket and slams his locker shut.

"Joel! What the hell," I reach into my pocket to pull whatever it is out, but he stops me by grabbing my wrist. I can feel a plastic bag with many round and sort of spiky objects, like tiny trees.

"Don't pull it out. I'll explain as we walk."

Who does he think he is? He's pissing me off right now, but I do as he says and follow him.

"My grandparents are getting suspicious. They're gonna ground me if they find Molly in my room. My grandpa even threatened to break my guitar. Please Rain, all I'm asking for is a small favor."

"Hold on," I say in a low voice, "So you want me to hide your weed stash? Where the hell am I going to hide it?"

"In your locker for now, but take it home after school today. I heard a rumor that they're bringing those drug searching dogs sometime this week."

"Joel, seriously?"

"Come on. You messed with it last week, so don't be acting all high and mighty now."

"That was one time! I don't want to do this. Why do I have to go down for your shit?"

Joel holds the sides of his head as if I'm giving him a headache. "No, that's not what this is. You won't get in trouble if you're careful. I trust you."

"Oh, you trust me? Do you honestly think that sweet talking me will convince me to hide your skunk garbage? That's rich."

"Rain, you're supposed to be my friend. Friends do favors for each other. Please! I'm practically begging you. I wouldn't ask you to do this if it didn't mean something to me."

"Nuh-uh. I am not doing this. Keep your stupid stash," I grab the plastic bag in my fist and shove it back in his pocket. "You're acting like such an asshole right now. If you were a real friend, you wouldn't be prioritizing your stupid fix's safety over mine."

"You know what?" Joel says while walking away from me. "Screw you. You're the real asshole here. You want to act like you're so above everyone when you do the same shit."

I furrow my brows at him in disgust and whirl around. With the way he's acting right now, it's not worth continuing the conversation.

No screw you, Joel. I'm done with all this bullshit. I'm done with your stupid fixation on weed, and I'm done with your careless attitude. He told me to ignore all the threats I'd gotten in my locker this week, so I decide to take a direct approach and report the messages to my counselor. Luckily, I saved a couple of messages as evidence.

***

"Listen, Rain." The counselor smiles sympathetically, with a twinge of pity in her voice. "You know how teenagers are. You're mature for your age, but some of your peers are still in their rebellious phase."

She shrugs off the evidence laying on her desk. "There's no way to know who these messages are coming from. Maybe they're from a friend trying to prank you? A jealous classmate trying to scare you?" She sighs and smiles. "Your best course of action would be to just ignore it. You'll be out of here in a few months. There are bigger things to worry about in the real world than a few childish notes."

"Trust me, you will survive this," she winks and passes me the notes back.

My energy is drained by the time I exit her office. I won't ignore these threats. I can't. Who could it be?

My mind drifts to a dark place. Trust is only an illusion. "Friends" is just a codeword for people who will stab you in the back and abandon you the moment you're no longer useful.

Could Darren have planted those messages in my locker? He doesn't seem like the type to crash clubs, but then again, everyone has a secret alter ego. I shake my head in regret. How could I be so prejudiced? Just because Darren is white does not mean he's connected to those neo-nazis.

Could Joel be playing a prank as payback? He couldn't be that messed up. Then again, he's been on drugs half the time. Would he really forget playing a prank on me over and over again?

What if Sloane is the culprit? Maybe not, she doesn't even turn to look at me in the halls anymore. Come to think of it, I haven't even seen her in school much lately.

What about Holly? She probably hates me for exposing her to Joel. It makes sense she would be targeting me.

I clutch my chest. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe. I'm running out of oxygen again. Can I really not trust anyone? I crumble the letters into my pocket and hold the wall behind me.

A group of girls walk by and snicker, sending a shiver down my spine. They're laughing, almost as if they know something that I don't. Wait, that's probably not it. Yet, why do I feel like everyone's staring at me? Everyone's voices are suddenly too loud. I have to get out of here!

I walk through the crowd, trying desperately not to catch anyone's attention. Deep down I know it doesn't matter, because everyone's out to get me. They're going to kill me.

I sprint through the hall, but it's stretching into eternity. My lungs are burning. My heart is beating so hard and fast that I can hear it as if it were spilling out of my ears.

I beg the universe to help me, send me anyone. Joel? Sloane? Are they really gone? Am I really all alone? It's all my fucking fault!

"Rain!" I bump into Darren and he holds me gently in front of him. "Are you ok?"

I gasp for air. My lungs are aching. I think I'm going to die. "Help me."

"Rain, what's wrong?"

"I can't— breath," I hold my hands over my chest and pant for air. At this point, I'm hyperventilating.

"Here, let's go outside," he grabs my hand and takes me outside under some empty bleachers. "Breath in, breath out. Slowly, ok? Just follow my lead."

I do as he says. I can feel my heart gradually slowing down to a normal pace. That frantic and unusual sensation of dying is slowly fading away.

Darren holds my chin up. "Feeling better?"

I nod, sniffing back tears. Why did that happen?

Darren pets my head sympathetically. "I'm here if you want to talk about it."

"Thank you, Darren. I'm sorry to burden you out of nowhere," I sniffle again. I'm sure he has better things to do than deal with me and my weird behaviors.

"No Rain, you're not a burden. I want to be here for you, you're my girlfriend," he says, rubbing my shoulders. I hold his hand and lay my cheek against it. He's so warm. I don't know how someone's presence can be so soothing.

"I don't know what went through me. I couldn't breathe, and my heart was racing. I felt like someone or something was chasing after me— like I would die if it caught up. I must be going crazy," I shake my head and gulp down a tight knot in my throat.

"Ir sounds like you had a panic attack," Darren says softly.

My shoulders sink as I look up at him worriedly. "So I am going crazy?"

"No, but it can happen if you're stressed out for a long time. Did something happen? I know you've been getting those threats in your locker everyday. I'm really sorry for acting so dismissive, I didn't know it was affecting you so strongly."

"It's not just that. I'm slowly losing my best friends. First, it was Sloane, now it's Joel... and I'm so stressed out waiting for the scholarship results and college acceptance letters. I have no life, Sloane and Joel were some of the few people who knew how to help me escape, but now I'm feeling lonelier than ever. I know I have you, but... it's different. Senior year is supposed to be fun, but mostly all I've done this year is stay cooped up in my room studying, doing assignments on top of assignments, and doubting whether I can even make it. What if it's all for nothing? What if I wasted my youth for nothing?" I shrug and feel my voice tighten up.

Darren nods and pulls me into a tight embrace. "That must be so hard for you, Rain. Maybe you should give yourself a break, and ease off the pressure. It's not healthy for you."

I hug him tight and bury my face in his chest. "You don't understand. I can't, I just can't! I have to do whatever it takes. There isn't any time for breaks in my life. If I take one, I'll fall behind. I can't afford to lose any time."

Darren rubs my back and sighs. "I admire your mindset, Rain, but I don't want to stand here and lie to you. The truth is, it only gets harder from here. Especially for people like you."

"Wait, what do you mean?" I wipe my nose on my sleeve and look up at him while he holds me in his embrace.

"You already know what I'm talking about," he says sheepishly. "You're an African American girl living in a world where white men hold all the power. I want to support you, but I don't want to see you get hurt."

I pull away and furrow my brows. I won't lie, I'm offended. "That's exactly why I have to make it. I have to show the world that we aren't messing around. I can be just as successful as any white man, if not more. I'm not going to let people tell me that the color of my skin will stop me."

Darren grabs his head in frustration. "Rain, stop. You're not going to make it. The world out there is vicious, it's not like high school. People are going to do everything they can to shove you down. I love you too much, I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt. I'll be there every time to pick you up from the dirt, but at some point, you have to make a decision."

I cross my arms and challenge him. "And what decision would that be, exactly?"

"Well, you can either keep fighting in vain for some hopeless dream or accept that the world is a messed up place and that's just how it is. I've made terms with that a long time ago, and you should too."

"Darren..." I feel like I've been punched in the gut. How could he say all that? I couldn't believe the bullshit I was hearing. Who did I fall in love with?

I step away from him dizzily. This can't be happening. It has to be a nightmare, I'll wake up any second now. The Darren I know and love wouldn't say this to me. He wouldn't!

I reach out for a wall, but there's nothing next to me to hold. The ground slips away and I fall to my knees. I'm too weak to get up. I stare at the dirt as a tear rolls down my cheek and drips onto the ground.

"Reality's going to hit you hard one day." Darren's voice is distant until he gets down on one knee and extends his hand to me. "Until then, I will always be here to pick you up."