Today we have finals for Trig, History, and Health. Fortunately, I can take them on a computer and I was excused from the two-mile run as long as I completed an extra section on my Health test that was given to the ninth graders. After the tests, we are getting let off early from school so Damien and I have plans to go somewhere out to eat later.

Yesterday I had a whole resolve to wake up early and go over my notes and to eat a good breakfast. Instead, I woke up twenty minutes before I had to leave and my shirt was still wet. I came to school tired and Kyra made it a point to tease me about it. She "can't help the way she acts sometimes" and I don't usually get mad at her, but today I wasn't in the mood for it. I lashed out at her and she told me that I needed to get help.

"Maybe I don't want help," I said, ending the argument and walking into History class.

The test was pretty easy because it was about Middle Eastern culture, which I adore. My grandmother on my dad's side is Egyptian and she would always make Kibbeh for my birthday. This year was my favorite year for history and they let me bring in Baklava as long as I made it nut-free. During the test, Damien kicked the back of my chair to get my attention. I turned around and the teacher caught me whispering for him to stop.

"Rhea! What are you doing?" Mr. Garcia whisper yells from his desk. "We are taking a test."

"I was telling Dam-" I stop mid-sentence so I don't get Damien in trouble. "Nothing. I felt something on my back."

"Okay. No distracting others during the test please."

"Yes sir," I say sarcasm laced in my voice then go back and check all of my answers.

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After I finish with my Trigonometry test, I go take a bathroom break. As I pass my homeroom, I spot Regina and I catch her attention. We are walking towards each other and I am tempted to turn around to avoid crossing her. When we get close she grimaces and shoves me against a locker.

"Everything is your fault. You should have stayed away from him and maybe he would s-" She sneers until her eyes start to water and she backs away. "I don't ever want to see you again."

"It's not my fault he doesn't love you," I murmur truthfully while trying to protect my broken arm from her.

"You are crazy." She starts laughing hysterically and I see the top of a pill bottle come out of the side of her backpack as she turns to go inside the bathroom. Is she okay?

"If I am crazy what is the medicine for?" As soon as I say it I immediately regret it and I feel even more guilty when I see the pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't mean that."

"You did. And I hate you." She stops in her place and throws the bottle at me while sobbing. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

I pick up the pill bottle and read the label. It's an antidepressant. She has depression. But she seems so happy being a psychopath. I guess we all have issues. The guilt I had quickly dissipated as soon as she started screaming at me.

"I don't care what you deal with. It's no excuse for being a nightmare."

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After school, Damien and I go to a teen lounge called Aesthet!cs. We go there regularly so they save a spot for us at the corner. No one dares to sit there for fear of facing the wrath of the theater kids. The kids in theater run the school because they have the best department. They have awards and everything, while the cheerleaders can't even spell out their cheers correctly.

When we get there, our corner couch is decorated with "Get well soon" signs. We move them out the way and sit down. The lights are dimmed and the fog machine makes it look like a smoker's lounge in here. Damien and I are cuddled up next to each other and he is playing in my hair.

"So Rhea," Damien says and takes his hand out of my hair. "What happened with Regina earlier at school?"

"She freaked out at me and said that it is my fault and that I took you away from her," I deadpan.

"You know she has depression right." Damien looks at me with something between disgust and annoyance.

"It's no excuse for slamming me against my locker and screaming at me," I reason and roll my eyes in disbelief. "She is crazy I swear. You know!"

"Her medicine makes her like that sometimes." Damien starts to get up. "That's why I was being so nice to her the other day."

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom. I'll be back."

"Okay."

Damien then walks away. I start to say something to him but he is nowhere in sight. About three minutes later he comes back and I talk about our mission to find me something that I like to do. He doesn't say much and I do most of the talking. I don't even know what I like to do though so his grunts and nods of agreement don't do much.

"I guess that workshop that I went to could have been fun if the people there were closer to my age," I quip and lean back onto him.

"You didn't even stay long enough to try to make friends though." Damien scolds and shifts his body away.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"What would make you think that?"

You just pushed me off of you. I shake my head in dismissal and he sighs then leans back against the couch occasionally glancing at the posters that people made.

"Do they bother you?" I ask and scratch at my cast.

"Not really. It's just weird you know." Damien shivers.

"Yeah. I know." I sit up and look Damien in the eye. "Day are you mad at me?"

"I don't know." He breaks eye contact and shifts in his seat. "Rhey we are friends. And you kind of made it clear that you want to stay that way."

"I just needed time to think Damien. For our entire lives, we have been friends and honestly, I didn't know how you felt. I love you. So much."

"Loved."

"What?"

"Nothing." Damien grabs my hand. "I love you more."

"I was just a little confused, especially about the Regina situation."

"Are you sure you want to be dating or is it about being the coveted one?" Damien asks and turns away.

"Why would you think that?" I try to keep eye contact with him but he averts his eyes.

"Well everyone wants you and you like attention. Plus this could be getting back at Regina."

"Well, it isn't like that. I'm not the jealous type."

"Really?" Damien asks sarcastically and smirks.

"Stop Damien," I whine and hold his hand. "I love you for you. Now help me figure out something to do."

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Later Damien drops me off at my house and walks me up to my door.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask and beam.

"I don't think that is the best idea." He says then stares at his shoes.

"Why?" I plant a kiss on his cheek. "You won't be able to keep your lips off of me?"

"Yeah." Damien smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later then." I grin and he opens my door for me. "Goodnight Day."

"Goodnight Rhea."

I walk in my house feeling at peace then my mood drops as soon as I see my parents staring at me. I look back in forth between the two of them and try to figure out what I did wrong. Today isn't a trash day, the dishes are usually done by dad, did I forget to make my bed up? Wait I have a broken arm. What did I do wrong then? Is this about Regina?

"Where were you?" My dad asks.

"I was out with Damien I could've sworn that I called and told you." I reason and check my phone for my recent calls.

"What?"

"Damien and I were hanging out."

"Rhea that isn't healthy. Where were you?" My dad starts getting loud but my mom stops him.

"Honey you know how your dad feels about the whole Damien situation right now."

"I was just at Aesthet!cs." I look at my mom to see what's so wrong. "We ate and he dropped me off."

"It's too dark out to walk around here," my mom worries and looks out of the window.

"I didn't walk!"

"Who are you getting loud with?" My dad yells.

"No one." I am genuinely confused. "What is the problem?"

"Nothing baby." My mom puts her hand on my cheek. "Go get washed up."

"Okay," I look in between both of them, waiting for an explanation. None comes.

I walk upstairs and can hear my parents talking about me behind my back.

"What is wrong with her?" My dad asks exasperatedly.

"Nothing is wrong with her. She is just dealing with a lot right now. She will be fine just give her some time." My mom calms him down.

Why does everyone keep thinking that there is something wrong with me?

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After I take a shower and get changed, I sit in my room unable to sleep. I turn on my air conditioner and let the noise occupy my mind. The locket necklace that Damien gave me on Monday falls off of my nightstand and I quickly get up to grab it. The cold from the air conditioner causes it to fog, blurring the engraved words on the front. I run my thumb over it to fix the smudge, but I end up leaving an oil streak behind anyway.

I open up the locket and look at the familiar photo of us at Homecoming this year. Damien has his arm wrapped around my waist and we are both smiling. We color-coordinated and chose to wear yellow. My dress was a yellow and blue floral bodycon dress and his suit was a black suit jacket and a yellow button-up shirt underneath. We both picked out his tie that matched my dress. We had so much fun that night. We took pictures at the prop booth, we danced with our friends, and the seniors paraded around, trying to get in trouble. Afterward, we were invited to an after-party that the seniors were hosting, but we knew that everyone was going to be drunk and stupid so we just got something to eat, alone.

After about five minutes of reminiscing, I put the locket in a decorative jewelry box and promise myself to wear it everywhere. I can't believe after all those years of being best friends, that it took until now for us to become more than just friends. Maybe waiting until now is what will help us to last.

I have been trying to see what I can do to "find my thing" and all that I can come up with is that I can give good advice. I mean being a counselor would be nice, but dealing with children and teenagers for the rest of my life isn't quite my cup of tea. I know that I don't have a lot of patience and I lose my temper when things aren't straightforward and when people act stupid. I will eventually figure it out, with or without Damien's help.