Tuesday, February 4th, 2020

I made a pact with myself when I drove past my new school last week, on the way to the new house. I would not make new friends. It would be easier that way.

Somehow, though, high school just doesn't seem to let you do the things you want. It always has a way of sneaking up on you, like the monsters you thought would leap out of your cupboard when you were five years old.

Unlucky for me, being the new girl in a school of only 200 students meant that I stood out like a sore thumb.

You'd think that my parents would go for a school with anonymity but clearly not.

My English teacher, Mrs Coplin, seemed like a sweet lady in her late-fifties at first. Then she opened her mouth, calling me up to the front of the class and ruined everything. It's a domino effect after that. Class after class, every teacher wants me to tell them about myself.

It was clear to me now that being in a small town, gossip was what they thrived off. Hell, they survived off it. I was going to have to be smarter about what I did and didn't tell people.

My palms are sweating even though it's third period and I was used to this process by now.

"Introduce yourself!" Mr Hecker, my biology teacher beams, throwing his arms out to his sides like he was conducting an orchestra.

I fight the urge to sit back down, wishing teachers understood how publicly humiliating this was for students. Worse still when you practically had to lie through every answer.

"I'm London Mc— Hall."

"London?!" someone sniggers from the back. "That doesn't sound like a strippers name at all."

"That's quite enough, everyone," Mr Hecker warns, his glasses sliding down the end of his nose as he glares at the back row.

Even still, the horror show doesn't end for another three minutes. One question stumps me every time. The question I wish I could avoid for the rest of my life.

"Siblings?"
"No."

Each time, I feel like I'm back in the interrogation room last November, the police hounding me over and over.

"He was your brother. You two were close. People say he was protective of you. What did you know about his plans for November 11th?"

People always believed that just because we were close, just because he was protective, it instantly meant I knew everything about him. That I must have known everything he thought, everything he planned. There must be a correlation between believing I knew my brother and understanding his mind.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

"Miss Hall?"

I snap my head towards Mr Hecker's worried expression. "Take a seat, London."

"It's just Lonnie," I croak, blindly sitting down at my desk.

"London, we just need to ask you a few questions."

A girl sitting next to me leans in when Mr Hecker is back facing the board. "I'm sorry about all that. If it's any consolation, two years ago, when I moved here, they did the same thing to me."

She smiles at me and I can't help my let my lips pull up at the sides.

"Thanks," I whisper.

"I'm Kennedy, by the way. It's nice to have you with us, Lonnie."

It's hard not to like her already, but this was always going to be my problem. I always found it easy to like people, to gravitate towards them. Yet the people that I liked back home, turned on me as soon as Phoenix pulled the trigger.

I guess I didn't blame them, really. At times I put myself in their position and I saw why they all hated me, why they spat at me when I tried to return to school.

It was easier to hate someone than to let them speak the truth first. I always thought love was the strongest human emotion, but really, its anger. I had to learn the hard way.

"Sit with me."

Kennedy's voice brings me out of my thoughts. She rests her hand against her chin, her elbow sitting on the desk. She's tying her brown hair back in a low bun, one-handed.

"Sorry?"

"Sit with me. At lunch."

"Oh," I squeak. I start to panic, thinking of any excuse to try and nicely put this to rest. "I think I should probably just —"

"Come on," she pouts, "I'm not doing this out of pity if that's what you think. You seem cool and I admire your strength for getting up there."

I'm not strong. Trust me. My brother died and I think it's all my fault.

"I —"

"One thing you'll learn about Kennedy is that she's persistent," a voice says from behind me.

I grip the table, making sure I don't jump.

These people don't know you. They aren't going to hurt you.

"Well, that is how I got you to go out with me," Kennedy grins. "This is Cooper, my boyfriend."

I turn around, acknowledging Cooper, a blonde-haired boy with the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

"Hey," he smiles.

My heart lurches. I didn't think this would happen, but it has. I've already met people who I would probably like to be friends with but I know, deep down, I never can.

I give Cooper a tight smile but quickly turn back around in my seat.

Once the the bell rings, I pack up my books slowly, watching Kennedy and Cooper in my periphery vision as they laugh with each other. His kisses her on the forehead before picking up her books. I look away.

Kennedy grabs my hand, grinning. "Come on, you. It's lunch."

I should have known that it would only get worse. I should have known that Kennedy and Cooper would have other friends.

It was stupid and reckless of me, a decision that my mother wouldn't approve of. I thought that two people knowing me wouldn't matter much, but four?

Kennedy had introduced me to Sydney, a short girl with fiery red hair, who Kennedy was best friends with. Then there was Asher, Cooper's best friend since childhood, who'd recently given himself a buzz cut which he seemed very proud of.

"So, Lonnie, why the hell did your parents name you London?" Asher asks. Cooper shoves his elbow into his ribs, sending Asher a warning glance.

"Don't be a dick. She's been getting crap for it all day. Besides I think it's a pretty name," Kennedy beams.

Kennedy squeezes my shoulder reasurringly. I've learnt within the hours that I've known her that she is a very affectionate person. It's something that almost brings tears to my eyes, knowing that my whole life is a lie now. If she knew the truth, she probably wouldn't want to touch me with a ten-foot pole.

"My parents were young when they had me. London is where I was conceived."

Sydney chokes on the diet coke she's drinking, her eyes growing wide. "Seriously?

"Yep," I whisper, picking at my salad.

I used to laugh at that story. It was how people would introduce me and I always loved how it made people smile. Now, it just made me sad.

"Holy shit! That's hilarious! Slightly gross too," Asher laughs. He was slightly obnoxious but it didn't bother me. They all seemed to bring something to their group. Like, if one of them wasn't there, it would be incomplete.

"Hey, Syd, do you think your parents might have named you Sydney after —"

"Don't even bother finishing that sentence," Sydney flares at Asher.

He turns back to me and I gulp. The interrogation was only just beginning.

"Do you have a brother named Brooklyn then?" he smirks.

"No siblings," Kennedy cuts in for me. She would know, after hearing my lie in class today.

Although Asher wasn't right about the name, he was right about the idea of it. My parents had conceived my brother, Phoenix, when they were travelling through Arizona at eighteen. I came a year later, obviously when they were in England.

"Did you hate them for it? I mean for the meaning behind your name," Sydney asks, screwing up her nose like the idea of my parents having sex disgusts her that much.

Well, I guess it was a bit disgusting, really.

"At first, yeah," I answer honestly. "When I was old enough to understand what the word 'conceived' meant, thanks to—"

Thanks to my brother.

"Thanks to the internet, I, um, kind of made everyone start calling me Lonnie or Lon. Then it just stuck."

I need to stop. This was exactly what I didn't need. Making friends and now sharing my life story? My parents would chastise me for this.

"Where'd you move from?" Sydney asks, passing her fries over to Cooper who takes a handful. She offers some to me but I decline.

"Just a small town about three hours away. You probably haven't heard of it," I finish, taking a bite of my lunch and looking away to avoid Sydney's gaze.

I knew they'd probably all heard of  Winterville. It had been on the news for all the wrong reasons last November. It was hard to miss.

"Do you miss it? Home, I mean," Kennedy asks quietly like she's only starting to learn who I am and doesn't want to push too hard.

I almost answer, but everything is getting too personal and I can't let my resolve slip any further than it already has.

My brother, Nix, always used to tell me that I only had one weakness; truthfulness. He always said that sometimes, I shouldn't have to feel guilty for lying.

Instead of answering, I shrug. I gulp my water. I can feel my heart starting to race. I hated questions. Questions always led to the truth.

"I didn't know, Officer. I promise. I didn't know he'd do this. My brother...I didn't know."

My chest feels heavy. If anyone asks another question, I'm not sure I'd be able to take it without the shakes starting, without the jumpiness.

"Hey," a male voice sounds behind me, his huskiness drawing tingles up my spine.

"Harry! Hey," Kennedy beams, her face pulling into a solemn smile.

Everyone choruses their hellos, smiling widely at Harry. I feel the weight leave my shoulders, glad that the attention has been taken off me.

He moves so that he's standing over next to Asher, who pats him on the shoulder as he sits down. The sun is beating down and I bring my hand up, shielding my eyes. That's when I get to see him.

Sharp jaw. Full lips. Healthy brown hair.  Perfectly angular nose. Big brown eyes, almost innocent looking if not for the sense of hardness coating them. It's almost painful how beautiful he is. It almost takes my breath away.

Shit.

He smiles at his friends almost shyly. It's obvious straight away that he isn't like the rest of his group. Not loud and boisterous. Not drawing attention to himself like Asher. Not laughing excitedly, like Sydney.

"Harry, this is Lonnie. She just moved to town."

It was weird how after everything that had happened, my personality took a hit too. I was never overly confident, but I was never shy either. Now, though, after everything people had said to me, it was easier just to hid away, withdrawing into myself.

"Hey," I say, self-consciously brushing my hair behind my shoulder.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know. She probably helped him plan it all, the bitch."

He watches me for a moment, his brown hair fluttering in the breeze. He wracks a hand through his hair, before cracking his knuckles.

"Hey," he finally speaks. I notice the change in his voice like he isn't quite sure what to think of me.

The minimal eye contact that I hold with him is broken when I look away first. My gaze lands on Sydney who has started speaking about some celebrity couple that has just broken up.

I probably would have cared once, but after last November, everything seemed so trivial in my social life that it just slipped away like a cold breeze passing over your skin.

Kennedy listens intently but Cooper is distracting her by kissing her cheek. I almost smile when she makes eye contact with me.

It was weird being practically an outsider invited into a group. But watching them made it easy, trying to understand who they were.

I wasn't sure yet, but it seemed to me that everyone loved Kennedy and Cooper, that Sydney was the sweet gossip queen and that Asher was the loud class clown. They all had a part and were playing it perfectly. Whereas, Harry, I didn't know who he was.

I look up, watching as he listens closely to Sydney, even though I couldn't imagine that he cared. That meant he was kind, at least.

I watch as he rubs the back of his neck almost nervously, his eyes drifting around the courtyard before landing on me again. He smiles, tightlipped, before turning his body to face me.

"What's Lonnie short for?" he asks quietly.

The rest of the group talks animatedly, unaware of the second conversation that was beginning.

"Promise you won't laugh," I say, nervously lacing my fingers together on the table.

He brings his hands out in front of him, crossing his index and middle together in a promise.

"London."

He seems to mull that over for a moment, raising one eyebrow. He wracks a hand through his hair and I notice that it's quite a habit of his.

"London," he whispers, nodding his head like he's trying out my name for himself.

"There's quite a story behind it too," Asher interrupts, poking Harry in the ribs with his elbow.

"A story?" Harry furrows his eyebrows.

"It's not that important, really. I—"

"It's where she was conceived!" Asher grins, interrupting me as he begins to laugh.

Back home, Asher would have been the type of person I liked to hang around with. Someone who didn't care about anything, someone who was louder than you, meaning that you weren't in the spotlight. I wasn't so sure I wanted that now, but it was still refreshing, like trying to hold onto a small fragment of my past.

Remember who you have to be now.

Remember.

Remember.

I entwine my fingers, focusing on Asher's laugh and Sydney telling him to shut up. Kennedy's sweet, angelic voice telling Asher to just calm down, Cooper backing up his girlfriend. Harry sitting there silently, waiting, wondering.

Our eyes meet briefly before he gives me a lopsided smile. He stands suddenly and the chatter dies down. I suddenly feel very conscious about the meaning behind my name, wishing that Harry didn't know.

"I gotta get going. Mr Burk wanted to talk to me about...some school assignment."

It's a clear lie, even to someone who doesn't know him well enough. His friends must see it too, but they don't question it.

Harry walks off, nodding at me briefly before shoving his hand in the pocket of his school blazer.

Kennedy must see me watching because she leans in, whispering.

"He's had a hard couple of months. Family stuff. I don't think it's my place to tell you but I know he'll tell you himself eventually. It's clear you're already one of us."

Already one of us.

The feeling of dread was sitting in the pit of my stomach like rocks at the bottom of the ocean. I couldn't make friends. I couldn't be part of someone's us.

I'd spend one lunchtime with them and Kennedy already trusted me to be one of them. She didn't even know me yet. She didn't even know my past.

The lunch bell rings and I jump, much to Asher's amusement. It's a relief to finally have an excuse to leave. I didn't think I could do this much longer.

Any of this.