Thursday, March 26th, 2020

I haven't spoken to my parents all week. I've barely even seen them. It's not like I'm avoiding them but I'm not making an effort to speak to them either.

Besides, I pretty much said everything I needed to say so I thought it was only fair that they spoke to me first.

Only they hadn't. They hadn't uttered a single word to me about the fight since it happened.

It was clear now more than ever that they were just in denial. Everything that I had said was true and it hurt even more that they weren't even trying to deny it.

"So, anyway, she looks right at me, right? And can you guess what she dared to say? Oops, didn't see you there."

"No," Kennedy gasps.

Sydney was midway through a very intense conversation about the girl who had taken her seat on the bus this morning. She was elbowed out of the way.

Despite it being an entertaining story, I'm struggling to pay attention. My mind is elsewhere and I can tell Harry's picked up on it too.

He suddenly gets up and gestures at me to join him.

"I'm gonna go get some more food," Harry tells the group. "Coming, Lonnie?"

I don't argue with him. Instead, I stand up and trudge over to the canteen line with him.

He crosses his arm over his chest, watching me warily. "Okay. What's up?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Nothing," I splutter, focusing on the canteen line as it gets shorter.

"Lon."

"Harry," I mock, trying to make light of this situation.

I was trying so hard to stop my lip from quivering. How pathetic.

I didn't want anyone to realise just how much my parent's silence has actually affected me. I never thought that they wouldn't at least try to defend themselves.

"Look, you don't have to talk to me but at least talk to someone, alright?"

"What are you talking about?" I say, feigning innocence.

He shakes his head. "Something is going on with you. I don't know what it is, but I know it's something."

Harry Coleman. Too observant for his own good.

"Look, I don't tell a lot of people this because it's not exactly something that people tend to be proud of. But late last year, I saw the school counsellor," he admits, scratching the back of his neck.

"And honestly," he continues, "It helped. A lot. Sometimes, you just need to get some shit off your chest."

I'd spoken to a therapist before. It had only been brief and it was too early on, only days after Nix had died. I don't think I had been ready at all then to admit what had happened out loud.

"I'll think about it," I whisper.

We move up in the line again and I wrap my arms around myself, almost protectively.

"I know it seems daunting at first. My mum was the one who made me go in the first place. At the time I hated her for it but now I can see that she was just doing her best. And I needed that extra push."

"So you think pushing me will work too?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe."

I shake my head. "What if I don't need a school counsellor?"

He smiles sadly at me. "If you don't need one, then why did you say that you'd think about it?"

Before I can respond the canteen lady is asking for Harry's order. I quietly excuse myself, heading towards the bathroom to splash my face with cold water.

I needed to stop this rising anxiety somehow.

I mull over the idea of booking a session with the school counsellor all day.

It was true that I had issues, no one would deny that. I just wasn't sure if sharing my deepest, darkest secrets with a stranger was what I wanted to do.

I knew that what I told them would be in confidence but I couldn't help but think that if they knew about my brother, they couldn't wait to get the chance to tell everyone who I was.

If I was speaking to my parents right now, it might be the type of thing I'd go to them for advice. But that wasn't an option. They were hardly even looking at me.

"Psst," Kennedy whispers, nudging my arm. "Biology quiz tomorrow. You better be paying attention."

I was seated next to Kennedy with Cooper one row behind her. We had assigned seats in this class because Mr Hecker said it was the only way to learn without distractions. Luckily for me, I was still allowed to sit next to Kennedy.

"Oh, thanks," I say, trying my best to smile.

"I'll give you my notes," she nods, whispering quietly as Mr Hecker turns towards the board.

She turns back to her notebook, glancing up briefly to write down the next words Mr Hecker writes on the board.

I tap my pen against my desk, trying desperately to concentrate. It doesn't work. My head is full of too many thoughts.

I turn to Kennedy, getting the courage to bring up the topic that had been sitting heavily in my mind since Sunday night's events.

"I saw your mum's article last weekend," I whisper, doodling in my book.

"Oh?" she says, half listening. Her brow is furrowed as she tries to keep up with our teacher's fast handwriting skills.

"Yeah. The one about that guy, Phoenix McLaren?"

"Oh," she whispers, remembering now. "Yeah, that one. She was working on that all last week. She's really interested in the case."

"Why's that?" I continue to dig, pretending to be nonchalant about the topic. When really, I was dying on the inside.

"She just finds it interesting that everyone thought he was this great guy. You know, star athlete, straight-A student. Most people reported that he was a really kind person and that he just suddenly snapped. It's like no one even knows what happened."

I gulp, swallowing the bile rising up my throat.

Everything she was saying was correct. It was weird having my brother analysed by people who didn't even know him, but I was starting to get used to it by now.

"I think mum just finds it totally bizarre that a seemingly normal, small-town teen, who most people apparently loved could commit the crimes that he did. And then he kills himself? With no goodbye note for his family? No explanation at all?"

My parents and I were still unsure how that last part ever got out. We didn't tell that many people that Nix never left a note but the media somehow always found a way to get the details.

"Yeah," I breathe, "weird."

"Besides all that, though, it kind of hits close to home for some of us. Mum was worried about running the story in case it upset some people in town, but so far, nothing's happened."

I still. The pen tumbles from my hand and falls off the side of the desk. Kennedy picks it up for me without even removing her eyes from the board. She hasn't noticed how much what she's just said is affecting me.

"What— what do you mean by that?"

"Oh," Kennedy frowns. "It's not really my place to say. I mean, someone in town was personally affected by what happened at that school but it really isn't up to me to talk about it..."

Oh god.

My worst fear was coming true. Not only did the girl in the year below me whose name I still didn't know from my old school live here now, but now Kennedy was telling me someone else in town had been affected by my brother's crimes?

"It's not like a secret or anything but it's just a really hard topic, you know? They don't bring it up much."

"So you know this person, personally?"

"Yeah. Most people do."

I gulp, the question I really want to be answered on the tip of my tongue.

"Do I know the—"

"London! Save the chitchat for after class," Mr Hecker sternly speaks.

I quietly apologise before turning back to my empty notebook. I begin the task of writing down all the notes I had missed for the entire class.

Somehow, I didn't think I'd be passing that bio quiz tomorrow.