The pencil dances across the paper, the light breeze ruffling the pages. Writing soothes my rigid nerves, filtering all my woes and inner turmoil onto a blank, white page. I take a quick break from the poem I've been scribbling in my writing journal, allowing it to slap closed. Legs crossed and hair flying, I sit with my back against the wall to the school.

Currently, it's lunch. However, my appetite has been whisked away by worries and an important decision I realize I need to make. My gaze lingers on the mostly vacant parking before shifting back to my writing journal. Not many people choose to write on crisp sheets anymore. Paper has been replaced by technology; computers, watches, and digital notebooks. Still, I prefer a journal and a pencil to a screen that can be accessed by anyone. Nothing's private in this society anymore.

Glancing back down at my journal, I realize my poem is, once again, centered around raw emotions bubbled inside me. This time, the emotions are different. Usually, I'll idly write about what has me down or scratching my head at that given moment. This time, I inadvertently focused on emotions that have been brewing for a while now.

We were best friends.

Smiles, laughter, joy.

Then, here came the popular crowd.

Cautious smiles, less laughter, lingering joy.

Forgotten. That's what I was.

New friends? No.

Kaylee was the only one to be trusted.

How could I trust again?

I wasn't like anyone else,

They all had their own groups.

Tears, pain, heartache.

Ash died. I was ignored.

I stare down at the smooth paper that seems to glare at me. Memories tumble back, forcing tears to prick my eyes. Vividly, I recall pain; heart-wrenching pain. Tears soaking white linen pillow cases. Ash, walking in and staring, eyes full of sympathy. Arms wrapped around me, telling me it was okay. I could let it out, Kaylee wasn't a true friend if she would just dump me like that.

"Never trust anyone, Hurricane," Ash whispered. We were huddled in the back of the salon late one winter night. She seemed extra alert, eyes pricked and eyes darting about. "Me, you can trust, but no one else."

"Why?" My thirteen-year-old self queried, a steaming mug of hot chocolate clutched between shaking hands. My eyes were wide, full of fear and question.

She shook her head, slipping a small smile onto her face. "It doesn't matter. You have me, okay? You trust me, right?"

I slowly nodded. "This girl who sits next to me in math wanted to be friends. She seemed really-"

"No!" My cousin suddenly snapped, her eyes a fiery emerald storm. She clutched her mug tightly, the sleeves of her sweater covering her palms. "No one. Do you understand me, Autumn?"

Slowly, I nodded, though I was still perplexed. She only called me Autumn when she was totally and utterly serious. Her solemn expression and steely gaze doubled the emphasis of my name.

Clutching the journal tightly, I shake my head. What's done is done. I'm invisible, I just have to deal with it. But I want someone to notice me. That girl in math noticed me. She'd flash me bright smiles and amiably chat with me. After Kaylee became a permanent part of her popular squad, no one noticed me again. No doubt her so called friends spread rumors, slowly crushing my reputation.

At first, I was completely fine with it. I didn't need anyone from this school to make me feel content. Ash was always there for me. She was the one constant in my life. Her parents and mine adored her, sure, but she noticed me. She picked me up when I hit the stone cold floor. She told me not to trust anyone else, and I believed that was how it had to be.

Now, loneliness hurts. It doesn't matter what she said about trust, it matters that I'm sitting here, all alone.

I collect my belongings, wiping away stray tears, then amble into the school building. The sweet A.C cools my sweat-covered flesh, briefly relieving my mind of stress and woes. Sadly, reality smacks me upside the head as a certain blond-haired boy yanks open the door to the boy's restroom and steps out.

He smiles kindly, which takes me by surprise. Few people have bothered to do what he just did, to acknowledge my existence in a kind way. My lips twitch into something like a smile, and before I know it, we've both wandered our separate ways.

That just makes me think; how difficult is a smile? How long does it take to wave a hand in the air? Not long at all. Yet, no one wants to waste a muscle movement, nor a flick of the wrist.

The bell rings and I jump, startled. Then, I hug my belongings tightly against my chest and head towards my next class. Sucking in a deep breath, I attempt to block out all distracting thoughts. After all, I have a major test I need to pass. No more distractions for me.

*******

*******

A girl with frizzy dark hair stands behind the counter, her dark lipstick matching her unruly hair. She doesn't even offer a smile, not even a small twitch of her lips.

"I'd like a Fruity Rainbow Swirl, please," I request, slapping a twenty onto the granite countertop.

The girl, probably not much older than me, snatches up the twenty and deposits it in the cash register. "Will that be all?" She mumbles, smoothing down her long locks.

I merely nod, holding out my wrist, bare and seemingly smooth, for her to scan. When I receive my delicious treat, I almost sigh in relief. Then, I walk over to my table by the window and plop down, the mahogany wood smooth under my jeans.

My relief is short lived. In walks Harper, that girl I still can't stand year after year. As soon as she spots me, she plasters the fakest smile I've ever seen on her face and strides over to me. When she reaches my table, she sits down across from me, jet hair slapping against her back. Her smile says 'friend' but the storm in her eyes says 'enemy.'

"Hello, Harper," I sigh, leaning back in my seat and taking a long, savory lick of my ice cream.

"Hello, Autumn," she spits rather rudely, folding her hands on the surface of the slightly wobbly table. "I really hate you, and you know that."

I nod. "Yeah, I hate you, too. So why don't you go find your own table? This place is practically deserted this time of day anyways."

She snorts, tugging at her slightly frizzed hair. "Trust me, I wouldn't have sat here if I didn't have a good reason."

Leaning back in my seat, I glare at her. "Let's hear it then."

Her expression softens. "I-I knew her."

My eyebrows raise up in confusion. "Who? Why does this pertain to me?"

She rolls her gleaming emerald eyes, mouth puckered like she swallowed something sour. "Ashley."

My eyes widen then narrow. "I don't want to talk about her, especially not with you."

She runs her small, pale hand down her perfectly made-up face. "Just listen to me. I could be arrested for this you blockhead."

"Excuse me, I'm not a-"

"What they did to her, I think they're going to do to Kaylee," she whispers, her voice trembling.

"What are you talking about?" I hiss, my heart beating against my ribcage. "Who?"

She looks at me like I'm totally and utterly dim. "You must be joking! Don't you know what happened to A- her?"

I shake my head, pursing my lips and tightly crossing my arms across my chest. "No one would tell me anything. "

She laughs a deep, guttural laugh. "I find that extremely difficult to believe. She must have told you. You guys were like this!" She exclaims, crossing two of her fingers together in order to demonstrate.

I narrow my eyes, staring straight into the pits of confusion that are hers. "I have no idea what in the world you're talking about. Now, I suggest you leave me alone!"

Harper gives me a steely, scrutinizing glare before responding. "I thought you'd be able to help, but I guess I was wrong."

"Help you what? Become a better person? That ship has sailed," I smirk, struggling to stifle the questions brewing within me.

The girl in front of me simply shakes her head, shoots me a look I can't decipher, and leaves.

My head spins with unanswered questions. The raw emotion in Harper's eyes when she mentioned Ash seemed to genuine. Then she was willing to ask someone she despises for help in an attempt to save a friend? Maybe she's not as cold and heartless as I jumped to believe.

My favorite creamy treat is trailing down the side of the waffle cone and onto my now sticky fingers. A migraine causes my head to ache as I recall what just occurred. Surely I knew everything about Ash. She was my best friend, my cousin, my constant supporter. Why would she keep a secret from me but not Harper?

I gobble up my ice cream in contemplative silence. My watch vibrates and emits a series of loud beeps, an alert I set to remind me to exercise. With a sigh and a groan, I rise from my surprisingly comfortable seat and exit the building. Maybe some exercise will help me make sense of something. Anything.

______

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-Sarah