At this point, Clay was convinced he had the worse luck.

The pain in his chest did nothing to ease the headache he got from screaming at the top of his lungs. Trying to ignore the events of this morning he marched onto the school compound without care. Unlike yesterday, the place looked untouched. Not a student insight, the leaves were all in neat piles and not a breeze blew by. Had there not been a burning rage under his skin, he might have enjoyed it.

Making his way to the stairs his eyes widened when he saw Grace sitting there reading a textbook. She swiftly shifted her gaze upwards, taking notice of his angered expression just before he had a chance to evaporate it.

"What are you doing out here?" Clay asked trying to distract her from asking what she was already thinking "Didn't school start like half an hour ago?"

She looked the boy up and down without saying a word. Was there anything worse than being judged by your best friend? Even in his eyes, he looked horrible. He wore the same long khakis from yesterday being slightly lower than they were supposed to because he forgot the belt. He tried to hide the ugly Hawaiian shirt he threw on with an oversized purple jacket and shoved Jacob's green sneakers on by accident. Even his hair rose and fell in all the wrong places.

"I decided to wait for you since I saw you walking," she explained furrowing her eyebrows.

For once could she not try to figure him out? There was very little he was willing to deal with today. Perhaps today was another perfect day to be a ghost boy. 

His body lunged forward in a cough causing a fire to burn from his lungs. Grace darted up from her seating position to support her friend but he held out his hand indicating everything was fine.

"I'm fine, it's just a cough," he fixed his stature smiling "I'm probably just catching the flu."

Was he stupid to believe Grace would drop everything right then and there? Most likely. She took notice of the sweat pouring down his face and the constant twitching of his index and middle fingers. He became his lie detector.

"Why were — are you mad?" She questioned raising an eyebrow.

"We're already late, we should get to class," he tried his best to get her to end the conversation. Proceeding to move forward and predictably she stepped in his way, arms folded.

"We're already late so let's talk," there were no hints of anger in her voice but it was dripping in worry— no pity.

"Okay," he took two deep breaths "I got into an argument with Jacob this morning because I didn't want to come to school."

"Is it because you're sick? I'm sure he wouldn't send you to school if it was that bad."

"No, It's because I don't want to be here!" his voice boomed causing her to jump back slightly "If you haven't noticed no one here so much as looks at me! I don't exist in there!" he threw his hand towards the doors "You know I asked someone for a pen yesterday? A pen of all things! And they wouldn't even give me a second!"

"Clay it's just high school, how people see you shouldn't affect you. It doesn't matter in the long run."

He chuckled "That's easy for you to say."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you don't get to give me advice or pretend to be my therapist when you have no idea what it's like to walk in my shoes. You have all these awards, you appear on TV for your accomplishments, not to mention you have people that would give you the time of day." He listed frustrated. 

Did she think she can lecture him on this? Her life was almost perfect? She had no idea what it was to be invisible, she always had the spotlight on her.

"Okay I don't know exactly what it's like to be where you are," she tried to apologise "but some people don't want to be the centre of attention. You rather have yourself under a microscope and have your life put on blast for the world to see? That everything you do is blamed on your parents having money to pay for you to win? To be in their shadow twenty-four seven?"

His ears picked up on tiny whispers as if the voices in his head had gotten louder and developed a voice other than his own. It sounded like the hiss of a teapot coming from every which direction, him making out the words failure and disappointment. Was that all he was?

Yet here miss Nobel prize was going to tell him all the reason why being invisible and having no friends isn't as bad as having attention on you. 

"Don't do that," he bit the inside of his cheek clenching his fists in frustration.

"Do what?"

"Try to make this a competition? Your life is so horrible, right? That's what you're trying to say? But your smart, you have all the opportunities line up for you. You have a somewhat functioning family and other friends. You have something. I have nothing in this to town anymore okay? The life, all the friends I had before died when everyone started looking at me like a killer."

He pushed past her aggressively, opening the door slowly.

"Clay wait-" she pleaded but he was done.

"Grace just give up already," his voice was weak closing the door behind him.

If she had just given up and turned her back on him like the other things would have been a lot easier. If she wasn't the only person he showed up in this hell hole to see. If she hated him, it would validate him for hating her back but he couldn't. Every time she brought up her parents being too overbearing or fake friends who only love her for her money he would feel his heart tug and pull, forming a smile to hide the hurt. Yet he didn't hate her, she had her problems. He only hated himself for the family he got stuck with. In the grand scheme of things maybe this was his punishment for doing cruel things in a past life. Or maybe he is just being too dramatic and should just wait for college to get a fresh start in a new state.

Clay pulled open his locker hearing the hissing voices continue to trail behind him. Grabbing onto the photo clinging to the very back, he took one look at it. The smile he had back then, the one he would never get that back. To think two of his friends would just turn their backs on him like that. 

"Screw you, Jonah," he growled ripping it in two and tossing it on the ground. The sound of his locker slamming filled the empty halls sure to leave a fresh dent in the flimsy metal.

...

Clay moved through his classes nonchalantly, trying to stay afloat and detached from everything around him. Mr Thomas — his English teacher speedily wrote on the whiteboard while Clay simply tried to see what flavour his pencil was. How could he say those awful things to Grace? He didn't mean to say them — no he did. He knew somewhere deep down he meant them and didn't regret it but it wasn't right. She was trying to help him and he exploded on her because of Jonah. Who the hell did he think he was talking to like that anyway, he's supposed to be his brother and understand what he was going through, not act like his father.

For the first time, he found himself looking back to see Grace trying her best to focus on the board. Even from a distance, he could tell what she was feeling. A little bit of anger, a little bit of sadness and a lot of disappointment in him for discarding her problems for his. Hopefully, she would give him the chance to apologise after school. 

Next to her, he caught sight of her cousin Michael tying to secretly listen to music on his phone. The other boy catching him staring and furrowed his eyebrows like he wanted to growl at him.

Great — the one day he wanted to be invisible he doesn't get the liberty.

This is why he doesn't turn around. 

Turning back around, to a sharp pain hit his head causing him to wince. Another cough occurred to which he tried his best to stifle within his sleeve. That only served to make matters worse. The feeling of his throat closing become more prevalent as he felt something dry clinging to his windpipe. It felt like he swallowed a pile of dust. Coughing into his hand he felt something leave his throat. A tiny amount of black powder— or was it ash?

Clay didn't get a chance to complain about his transformation into a vacuum cleaner, unfortunately. 

Everything started to get blurry. His head spun all over the room trying to find a place to rest. The room was a pin-will slowly speeding up to try and get Clay to puke out last night's burger. The pain was excruciating, causing him to clutch his head tightly. He couldn't make out anything anymore, it was all a spinning blur of colours.

Then, right before his head split open, it stopped.

Except he was no longer in the class. The things around him moved quickly as his legs sprinted through the forest avoiding every rock or root in its way. He had no control over them. He did not even realise he was running until his eyes met the ground. How could he be here? Was this a dream? Possibly, but when did he fall asleep? Is he sleeping in class?

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain blasted through the flesh on his right shoulder. There was no indication of where the arrow came from, tearing through the flesh near his collar bone and splattering blood all over his clothes. Wait — these weren't his clothes. But he knows he saw this shirt somewhere before.

His consciousness seemed to catapult him forward. Bringing him back to the class, all the pain returned at once. Sweat stormed down from his face, his chest throbbing as he couldn't catch his breath. More murmurs filled the room however not from the students. He couldn't decipher their words this time. Too many of them were talking at once. The back of his neck was scorching but he couldn't bring his hands to touch it, they didn't listen to him.

In five breaths he was back in the forest running. The pain in his neck being swapped for the heart-stopping pain in his shoulder. He did manage to catch something, however. Within the forest, figures dressed in large black hoods lingered around behind the trees. They were watching him but he couldn't see their faces, all he saw was an endless void within cloaks. Was this what people saw before they died? 

WHAT THE HECK IS HAPPENING!! SO much stuff happened in this chapter guys. From Clay and Grace's fight to Clay's mood and now what exactly is happening with Clay??? 

 How are you guys liking the story so far? I wanted to start off slowly at first because I wanted to build a familiarity with the characters so you guys would care about them. A lot of stories jump into things instantly and since this book is character-driven I wanted to avoid that. Do you guys prefer the action first talk later method or the opposite?

Don't forget if you liked this chapter show you're appreciation with a like, comment and maybe even share this story with your friends! I will see you guys Friday. <3 <3