I silently
excuse myself
and try not to
limp
out into
the hallway,
my combined
symptoms of
everything,
creating a
scene—
the dramatic,
movie trailer
kind.
Like I
need
any more
attention.
But once I'm
free from
the prying eyes
of my classmates,
the door closing
between us,
separating me from
any help
I might not want
but need.
I let myself
fall
onto all fours.

Between the pain
and the racking
coughs,
I can't stay
standing.
The ripping
pain in
my shoulders
is worse in
this position,
so I lean
to the side
and lower myself
onto the ground.
A whimper escapes
as my muscles
twist and are
pushed against
the unforgiving tile.
I hate myself
for that noise,
but it's not like
anyone could hear.

I crunch
my body
smaller,
closing
my eyes—
which doesn't help
the breathing situation,
but the fetal
position
makes me feel
a little better.
When I breathe,
little gasps
escape me 
Everything
hurts
so much
and I
can't think straight
and I
can't stop
coughing
and my
tics won't just
calm
down.

"Are you okay?"
That girl from
lunch appears
in my line of
vision
as I open
my eyes,
seeking her
out.
"I knew there was
something wrong
at lunch.
Tell your
friend
to be helpful or
back off."
She looks
so disappointed
in Cadence,
I might have
laughed
if I weren't
so miserable.

"Don't talk
about my
best friend
that way."
I grumble.

"Well, that's
no way
to talk to
the person
trying to help you,
is it?"
She says.

She sounds like
a movie villain
saying that,
but she smiles
as if she's
funny
and I don't
really care
at this point,
so I
ignore it.

The tremor in the
deltoid in
my left shoulder
starts,
and I cry out
quietly
as my
aching body
shakes.
I'm
psyching myself
out
and I know it,
but I
really can't breathe
and I hurt
so bad.
The tics in
my back and my
knee go off
simultaneously
and I gasp a little
louder.
How pathetic.

"What should I
do?"
She asks.
Honestly,
I forgot
she was there.

"Go to the
Attendance Office
and get
the redhead."
I tell her.
"Tell her
Emma's
on the floor."
I am impressed with
myself
for getting
that much
out.
It feels like
my whole body is
tightening;
freezing up,
including my
vocal chords.
My tics are
subsiding into
not even being able to
move.
I want
to stretch out,
because
the way
my muscles
positioned themselves
when they
froze up;
sharp pains
fire
through me,
but for
some reason,
my body just won't
listen to me.

But I
wouldn't want
Monique wondering
what she needed
to do
to help
the unnamed
student
reported to be
breaking apart
in the hallway.
Now she'll know
not to being
an epipen
or a juice box
for that
diabetic kid
or something.

She hurries off,
which I am
glad about
because I start
to cry
and that
makes it even harder
to breathe.