I woke up feeling like shit. I was getting quite used to the feeling, which was a miserable thought. Considering feeling like death was becoming my new norm, I didn't complain much. If I complained every time, I wouldn't get much, apart from groaning, done.

      Today I didn't press snooze. My alarm went off, and immediately I forced myself out of bed. I had certain things to accomplish, and they required getting up early. To be specific I had things to discuss with Andrews, and I'd get what I had to say said before he could burst through my bedroom door to drag me out of bed.

     Giving Andrews a taste of his own medicine, I burst into his room unannounced. Unlike myself when the roles were reversed, he was already dressed.

     "What the—"

     "Not so fun when you're on the other side of the door, isn't it?"

     "What happened to—" he began again, in a more outraged tone, completely ignoring my remark to study my eye instead.

     Though my face looked awful, I hadn't made an effort to hide it today. He was bound to notice anyways. There was no use trying to hide it from him. And quite frankly, there was no amount of foundation that could hide the dark colour on my face. My right eye was still heavily swollen, and the entire half of my face surrounding it was a mixture of blue, black, and yellow.

     "No." I stopped him, raising my hand to his chest, to push him away.

     He was approaching quickly hoping to get a better look at my eye. I didn't want to hear his concerns. It seemed every time he vocalized his worries, we argued.

     "I know I look like shit; I feel like it too," I informed him. "And I have noticed my discoloured face, it's kind of hard not to. I'm also aware that you probably have a lot of questions, but I don't want to hear them... Ok?"

      Cleary it wasn't ok. Eyebrows raised, Andrews scoffed and shook his head in disbelief.

     "No." I stopped him again. "I am a strong, independent woman. And I know that I can't hide the fact that I obviously have something going on, but your help isn't going to do any good. You can't help me... so don't push me to talk."

      "But—"

      "No!" I repeated, more firmly. "You're annoyingly observant, so you'll most likely also notice that I have a limp. So, yes, I'm injured, but is it your concern? No, it is not. So, there's no need to bother me about it."

     Andrews wasn't impressed, still he didn't argue about it. I took it as he had accepted my demand.

     "Now go write this in your stupid little notebook, and I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes." I left his room, proud of myself.

      I was even more impressed that Andrews took my words seriously. He didn't ask any questions during breakfast, though I did notice him eyeing my foot and face suspiciously.

     Once again, the fight was the talk of the town. Everyone heard about it, and like last time, Andrews hadn't taken it well. He was complaining about it being too close to home, ranting energetically about it, until he looked at my face. Though I was wearing my red sunglasses and had placed my hair in a way to cover the right side of my face, it was clear that he was thinking of my hidden purple face. The way his expression changed made me freeze. That was his thinking face. My braided hair the previous night surely added to his collection of puzzle pieces, I had no doubt that he was beginning to assemble the puzzle. Though the final picture wasn't clear, I was certain he had a fairly good idea of what it would resemble. It was only a matter of time before he found out. He did it much quicker than I'd have ever thought, and my little meeting with Toby was only going to speed up the process.

      Toby, having been the one to call the cops, was getting a lot of attention. Everyone, myself excluded, wanted to hear about the battle he had witnessed. While the rest of my classmates attempted to earn his attention, I was doing my best to avoid him.

     God had a sick sense of humour. I don't know what I did to offend him, but wasn't the whole Terpilih thing punishment enough? I mean I spend months in tenth grade, trying to earn Toby's attention, and now that I desperately don't want it, I'm receiving it.

      He was telling the story, for what I'm sure was at least his tenth time that day, when he met my eyes... or rather my sunglasses. He paused mid story, stopping dead in his track to get a better look at me. I gave him a small smile and continued my way down the hall. Toby didn't reciprocate the smile, he frowned. I'm not even sure he noticed my smile, his full attention on my glasses. If he had the power of telekinesis, my glasses would long be gone by now. Stepping away from the crowd, he dodged students to head my way. I didn't wait for him to reach me; I ran to the nearest bathroom. I wasn't going to let him confirm that my face was the one he had seen the previous night.

      The bathroom seemed like a genius idea at the time, until I realized that I had trapped myself, and I had no doubt that he'd wait for me to come out. Surely, I was only making him more suspicious. You don't run away from someone unless you're hiding something. There was no way that I was passing through that door again.

     Holding onto the bathroom stall, I stepped on the heater and pulled myself towards the very small window. The ledge wasn't very big, nor was it near the ground, but I managed to pry the window open and squeezed my legs through. Dangling, half my body still in the bathroom and the other now outside, one of the toilets flushed. I probably should have made sure I was alone. I tried to rush my way out, but too soon a young ninth grader in a dark blue flannel stepped out of the last stall. She looked up at me with wide eyes.

     "I'm playing an intense game of hide and seek," I said lamely. "Don't tell anyone I was here." I shut the window, and landed stomach first on the hot dry dirt.

      I was right to assume that Toby would wait for me. By the time I re-entered the school, he was still standing next to the girl's bathroom. This time I didn't try to avoid him, I walked right past him and headed towards the cafeteria. I had managed to confuse him. He was too flabbergasted to follow me. For once, my quick thinking had been successful. I smiled at the stupefied expression on his face.

      My smile dropped. Trying to ignore the many glances earned by my limp and sunglasses, I noticed Andrews scribbling widely in his notebook and gritted my teeth. Sensing my boring eyes, he raised his head to meet my eyes. He watched me limp towards my usual seat, keeping his gaze on my face, never ceasing writing. I took my seat, slamming my lunch box on the table.

      Shooting mental daggers at each other, we were silent for the entirety of lunch. My only words offered were a clarification that the pills I was taking were pain killers. I didn't want to give him any crazy ideas. Who knew what kind of rubbish he was concocting in that journal? Though I'm sure the pages were filled with ridiculous theories, I had a suspicion that his latest ones weren't that far off from the truth. Andrews was no genius, but I was convinced he had enough information to put it all together. It's really what made me the angriest. I didn't want him learning the truth, but the fact that deep down he knew or at least suspected I was the girl on the news, but didn't want to admit he did, was infuriating. The idea that I could be that girl was so absurd and unrealistic in his mind, that he couldn't come to terms with it.

      Despite the tension between us, I was shocked not to find him waiting for me by my locker, at the end of the day. This was far from our first fight, and usually no matter how angry he is, after the bell I would find him leaning against my locker, ready to walk me out of school. He couldn't be that upset for my secret keeping.

     Out of curiosity and disbelief, I made my way towards his corridor. I was both correct and incorrect. He hadn't just ditched me. He was, however, too preoccupied to make the walk to my locker. He stood a few lockers away from his own, talking to Toby Ackerman. I didn't need my out of the ordinary hearing to know their topic of interest. Giving myself the time to take a deep breath, fists clenching at my sides, I turned right back around, and headed towards Andrews' truck on my own. Had it not been for my sliced foot, I'd have walked home and flipped him off when he passed me on the street.

     "Sorry." He threw his bag in the trunk, five minutes later. "I was finishing a group project."

     "That's odd," I said. "Considering Toby's not in your Algebra class."

      "It wasn't for that class," he lied. Obviously, rushed and in panic, he didn't put much thought into his statement. Algebra was the only class that we didn't have together.

     "Huh." I continued to speak in a tone that mocked interest. "That's funny. I don't recall being assigned any group projects."

     Andrews chewed his lower lip, as he always did when he was caught in a lie, or nervous. He kept his gaze straight ahead, alarm dancing in brown eyes as he searched for an explanation. He didn't find one.

     "So, what'd you two actually talk about?" I prodded. I was hoping to make him sweat.

     "Nothing important," he said swiftly. "Toby and I used to play baseball together. Am I not allowed to speak to my other friends?"

     "Ah," I feigned comprehension. "Of course, you're allowed to speak to whomever you wish, but I sure wouldn't define a friend as someone I ignored for five years... And are you not the one always claiming that dodging a question can only be associated with one that is guilty?"

     "I didn't—"

     "Answer my question," I finished for him. "Why the sudden change of heart? Five years of silence, is a long time."

     "I don't know. We just ran into each other."

     I hummed sarcastically.

     "You're not one to bite your tongue, Clara. If you have something to say, say it," Andrews challenged.

     "Oh, on the contrary. I think you're the one who's biting his tongue."

     "What are you implying?"

     "I don't know, Andrews," I said curtly. "Any new theories?"

      He opened and shut his mouth, failing to find words. He seemed to be debating, whether to be rude or civil. He was, without a doubt angry, but I could tell that he didn't want to fight. After a few moments, he sighed in defeat and shook his head.

      "Not really," he said. "I'd consider them more as ideas than theories. None of them make sense yet."

      I gave a short laugh, but it held no amusement behind it.

      "What?" he demanded. I shook my head, a small sarcastic smile on my face. None of them made sense...

     "Nothing."

     "More secrets."

     "You can shove your secrets up your hypocritical arse!"

     Andrews raised his eyebrows in demand for further explanation.

     "Why don't you show me the last entry in your journal?" I asked, knowing very well that he would shut down that idea. "I bet you'd go to great length to hide its content and your conversation with Toby."

     "I told you it wasn't important." He crossed his arms.

     "That's a lie and we both know it." I held his gaze, daring him to contradict me. He couldn't. He had never been able to lie to me.

     "It's not the same," he argued instead.

      "Did you not just say that you had no concrete idea what my secret is?" I asked, voice gradually raising just as his did. "Then you can't know if it's the same. Don't reprimand someone when you don't even practice what you preach." I jumped out of the still moving truck, wobbling down the driveway. I intended on staying far away from my childhood best friend.

      I threw my school bag in the closet in the entrance.

     "I'm going out," I told Andrews, getting on my hands and knees to crawl up the stairs. "I don't even care that its daylight. I'm going to the store, and then I'm paying the kids a visit, whether Laine likes it or not."

     Andrews clearly had some reservations about my statement, but thankfully, he decided to keep them to himself. Christmas was in two months; mom had probably already started to take on extra shifts. She would need the extra money, even if she had one less kid to spend money on.

     "Your foot's really bothering you," Andrews stated the obvious, releasing his lips from the tight grip of his teeth.

      "That's not going to stop me. I'm going whether you like or not."

      "That's not what I meant," he sighed, his voice having returned to his usual gentle nature. "I wasn't going to stop you, I was just... acknowledging your pain."

     I continued crawling upstairs, ignoring the look of worry that had so quickly replaced his look of anger. I hated how he was so easily forgiven; I could never stay angry with him. I hated the soft spot that he had in my heart, no matter how much of an idiot he was being.

      "It's really not that bad." I tried to reassure him, before disappearing onto the second story.