I take another bite of falafel, the meat now as cold as my hands and as broken up as the thoughts jumbling in my mind. My hands are shaking slightly, a small tremor I'm sure Churai's sharp gaze has noticed. The wind jostles my hair into my eyes. I do not make a move to remove it. 

The two of us sit side by side on the silver metal benches that align the soccer field of our high school. Churai had dismissed the rest of the club early. Everyone but me.

It has been quiet for fifteen minutes between us. I am thankful for it.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" Churai asks gingerly. This is the third time she has asked. 

I shake her head no. This is my third time I have said no.

"About the paper," Churai murmurs, wringing her wrists together. The metal bracelets around her arms jingle and clack against one another. The dark hue of her skin is prominent under the harsh light of the sun. "I'll give you an extension. But this is the only time!"

I crack a small smile, knowing the other girl is attempting to lift my spirits. I move to take another bite of the falafel but decide against it at the last moment, my hands falling back into my lap. The last piece of falafel falls to the floor haphazardly. With a sigh, I crush it with my foot. 

Churai bites her lip; I find it odd how she has not spoken much. From the short time I have known the beautiful Indian girl beside me,  I am now aware that her personality is that of a sizzling firework, propelling towards the sky and exploding in a rapport of booms. She is loud and she is bright. 

Yet, here she is beside me-- quiet and subdued. 

With a small huff, I point to the draft of the school paper in her hands. Soon, I am met with the slice of parchment and a blue fountain pen. I cannot help but feel touched that she immediately knows what I mean. I cannot help but feel touched she understands. 

Are you really not going to ask me anything? I write hesitantly.

Churai glances at the sentence before meeting my gaze head on. "If you wanted to tell me, you would have. It's not my place to pry." She closes her eyes and angles her head upwards. "Everyone has their demons."

My hands quivering, I scribble hastily on the corner of the paper, I'm not normal.

Churai opens one eye to read what I had wrote. A small, half-smile lights up her face. "No one is."

↛

Churai drives me home.

I open the door to my home and glance behind me. My friend sits in her Mini Cooper, relinquishing a jovial wave before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing over the horizon. 

I pause in the doorway, listening. 

Silence.

But unlike the silence between me and Churai, this version is unbearable.

No one is home when I drop my heavy backpack to the floor with a loud thud. No one cranes their neck through the doorway in the kitchen to greet me after school. No one is there to greet me with a smile.

I make my way to my bedroom. The hallways seem narrower, and I'm finding it hard to breathe. The bandages around my arm suddenly feel tighter, as if reminding me of my condition. Reminding me--

You'll never be normal.

Inside my room, I find myself drifting to the computer. Chase's latest USB mix is still plugged into its side. I press play, the sounds of Fleetwood Mac is filling the quiet of my home. Taking over the thundering of my thoughts. 

I sift through my pockets for my phone. I don't think. I hit Call.

"Hello?" His voice answers after two rings. My eyes prick with tears. This is stupid. I cannot even say anything back. "Eleanor?"

Music continues to play in the background, as if answering Chase for me. The other end of the line is silent until I hear the sound of shuffling and the creak of a chair. Guitar strings accidentally being plucked ring in my ear until I hear the sound of Chase's acoustic matching the haunting melody of Landslide.

"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?"  His voice croons, and my heart tugs. Something hits my cheek. Curiously, I touch the spot and am startled when moisture sits on my fingertip.

I'm crying, I realize. 

And as Chase's voice calms the erratic beating of my heart, I let myself cry.

And cry. And cry. And cry.