My mind just wouldn't shut off. I check my watch and rub my tired eyes when I realize it's nearly two in the morning. Dad's probably still up working on the suit, but he'd kill me if he found out I wasn't asleep for the fifth night in a row. It makes me smile at how far he's come in the dad department in such a short span of time.

Still, I don't know if I can make my decision on just his advice. Because, while he's been in my shoes, there's still other people it could affect. I know I made my choice, to stay with false 'friends' than risk getting too close to someone, but pesky human nature and anxiety won't let me stop questioning it.

My phone glows in my dark room as I swipe it open and click on the familiar contact. I half expect him not to answer, but he's always been an early riser—the dweeb.

Sure enough, after a few rings, the familiar face pops up. "Li-li" Will shouts once the call officially connects, and I nearly drop my phone in surprise.

"Will you hush, you div? You'll get me in trouble." I whisper harshly as I plug in my headphones. "God, I still hate that you're an early bird. I don't know how you do it."

"That's because you're a night owl at heart." He grins into the camera. "Time difference helps though."

"Glad to know it's good for something."

Will narrows his eyes, analyzing me from an ocean away. "I know that face. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I lie, and both of us know he doesn't buy it. "I just–I was wanting to check in, ask how he's doing."

"He's been doing well lately. Always talking about how he misses his girl like mad though, bragging about how she's gone international." Will chuckles, and I try to ignore the stabbing pain his words sends through my chest. Will smiles ruefully. Henry's mind isn't what it used to be, and he goes back and forth between calling me his girlfriend despite the breakup we had before the incident and cursing my name. "You really should call him. He misses you, and I swear, he's a lot better than last time."

"I can't. I ruined his life, Will. He'll never be the same because of me, and I'm sure he doesn't want to speak to me, even if he's having a good day and forgets enough to still think of me as 'his' girl. We both know the truth."

Will's expression and voice go cold. "Stop that right now, Amelia Bright. You have to stop blaming yourself for everything."

"Easier said than done," I tell him and but back tears. "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Everything." I cry. "This whole thing was supposed to be a new start, but I can't do it. What if someone gets close? What if something bad happens again? Or they find out the truth and hate me?" I feel myself shrinking as the tears threaten to spill. "What if—what if maybe I'm not meant to get close to anyone? To have friends? To be loved and normal? Will, what if everyone I get close to ends up like another Henry?"

Each question is a double-edged sword, but the last one strikes deeply. Will's expression softens for a moment before hardening over. "That's a load of crap if I ever heard it. Look, Lia," he sighs and runs a hand through his already styled hair, which only messes it all up, but he doesn't seem to notice, "you are the most amazing person I've ever met. You do not deserve an ounce of what life—or my brother— put you through. Anyone who has met you will tell you the same thing.

"And yeah, what's happened has sucked, but you have to stop letting it define everything about you. Spit in life's face for a damned moment, take risks, make friends, and follow your heart. You've got a great one." I avoid looking at him, knowing that he genuinely believes every word he's saying. "It's okay to get close to people. Not everyone is as bad as the monsters you've faced, but you have to give them a chance to show you that."

"I know. I just—I can't exactly trust myself lately." I sniffle and wipe my nose with some tissues from my desk. "Will, what if—what if I fall again? I don't want to hurt Henry—even though we broke up long ago for good reason, or make you hate me if I—you know."

"Fall in love with someone? I promise I won't hate you. Just make sure they're worth it? I know you never loved my brother, and he treated you like crap. You deserve to be happy with someone who values you. As for Henry, well, he's stronger and gotten better than we give him credit for." Will smiles, and as if he can sense my lingering apprehension, states with a booming, authoritative voice, "I, Will McNeal, hereby pardon you of your fear. Go make friends, be reckless, snog a boy or two, eat lots of chips, and just live your bloody life. Promise me, right here, right now."

A small laugh escapes my lips at my best mate, prone to theatrics, but always knowing exactly how to cheer me up at my worst times. "I promise to do my best."

Will rolls his eyes and gives me a lopsided grin. "It'll have to do." A shout echoes through his phone, and he looks over his shoulder in realization. "Crap, I gotta go. Just trust me, Lia, you deserve to be happy. So be happy."

"Thanks, Will," I reply softly and laugh at his reaction to the cheesy, childhood nickname. "Give Trish and everyone my love. I'll let you go for now."

"Will do." He smiles and waves as the call ends.

I lock my phone and collapse onto my bed with a thunk that violently echoes in the silence. Maybe Will is right. After all, he and Trish know me better than anyone else. I've always been held back by my fear.

Fear of not being enough.

Fear of being left behind.

Fear of my abilities.

Fear of getting close enough to get hurt.

Maybe it's time to change that. The thought spins in my head until my eyelids grow heavy, and I barely register myself tumbling into the exhaustion and head nuzzling into my pillow.

"Lia," a voice calls as they shake my shoulder, "time to get up, sleepyhead." Dad chuckles as I groggily open my eyes and brush my mess of hair from my face.

"Noooo," I whine and bury my face into my pillow. "Just let me sleep, da."

The syllables are stretched and distorted in the early morning haze, but he still smiles at me calling him 'Dad.' An undeniable grin emerges across his features as he shakes his head with a chuckle. "C'mon, bug. I'll make you some coffee."

I push myself up on my elbows and grumble incoherently as he leaves the room. 7:30 AM taunts me from the bedside alarm clock, and I scold myself for not planning my sleep better.

Now I'll have to make it through school on less than four hours of rest. Can't say I haven't had worse scenarios though. In fact, I'm pretty sure fully functioning despite sleep deprivation is a classic Stark trait that's been passed down through generations.

My mind runs through what I'm going to do for today as I slip on my jeans and shirt. Will's advice replays on a loop and causes me to wonder which direction to take. There's the obvious path of sticking with Liz and the rest of her friends, as intolerable as they can be at times, or the riskier option of attempting to become real friends with Peter and Ned, who seem like they genuinely care.

Although there's an undesirable third option—staying away from everyone; as easy as it would seem, there's only more trouble bound to happen in the long run.

I bite my lip as grab my bag and begin to plait my hair anxiously. Dad waits at the bottom of the stairs with a large thermos of coffee and a banana. His smile falters when he notices the troubled look on my face. "What's that look for?"

"Nothing." I lie with a half smile. "Just still waking up."

He nods, clearly not believing the lie, but at least having the sense to not push it. "If you say so," he mumbles with slumping shoulders, "you know you can always talk to me."

"I know. It's really nothing though." I reassure him with a peck on the cheek. "I'm gonna take the 'subway' today because Happy needs a day off for once."

Dad lets out a small laugh at my failed attempt at an American accent, but his dad mode quickly overshadows it. "Fine, but at least let me come with you to make sure you don't get lost."

I roll my eyes but don't pose an argument. Dad's only trying to be helpful, and even if it is a little frustrating to be treated like a toddler, I honestly don't mind getting to spend a little more time with him or offering him the peace of mind. "Fine with me. Just make sure you wear your disguise, I don't want to get mobbed or have anyone make the connection just yet."

For a split second, a flicker of discomfort crosses his face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. "Let's get going then." He says all too cheerily as we leave the house.

I pause for a second and gnaw on my lip again as I mull over how to ask him about the weight still pressing on me—or if I should even mention it at all. "Hey, Dad?" He turns to me, worry creasing his bore from my tone and expression. "How do you—know what you're doing is the best choice? How do you know you're not simply being selfish and potentially putting others in harm's way?"

There's a sad smile that appears at the corners of his mouth, and he sighs and looks at me as if the question exposed everything, which it likely did.

He settles a hand on my shoulder and, under his gaze, it feels like the shared weight of the world. The feeling only increases as he begins to speak. "Look, I'm gonna be honest—" he sighs and collects his thoughts before continuing, "—there's no exact formula. You just have to trust your gut and know—you're a person too.

"There may always be baggage and danger, but it's a calculated risk, just like everything is. You're just the one who decides if it's worth it, and you'd be surprised how good people are willing to stand by you—no matter the circumstances."

I nod and let the advice turn over in my head. Dad has a point. There are times I get so wrapped up in all the 'what-ifs,' I forget that I'm a person too—that other people's choices aren't always my responsibility.

"Thank you," I whisper in reply, long after either of us had spoken last. "I think—I know what I'm going to do."

Determination settles in my bones, and I know there will be no turning back after this. I just pray I've made the right choice.

It keep reassuring myself the whole way to school and all throughout my morning classes. After all, this might just be the safer option in the long run if my suspicions are correct. It makes me hope even more that they are.

When lunch finally rolled around, my exhaustion had faded into a dull throb in the back of my head. Although, despite my effort to keep it back, my anxiety creeps up behind me, whispering questions in the hopes of making me doubt my choice.

I linger in front of the tables for a moment—frozen. This shouldn't be happening. I've made my choice, determined to stick with it. But, my monsters just can't resist making me doubt. I bite my lip and force deep breaths in and out as I continue on my way, anxiety or not.

The thoughts and worries keep swirling and dancing so violently, my head swims. Everything takes on a momentary haze, before violently snapping back to normal. Suddenly, my tray full of food becomes infinitely more unappetizing as try to keep from falling over or tumbling into someone.

Seconds stretch out into what feels like hours before I finally spot the familiar faces I was looking for. They barely notice me as I step up to the table and watch them in amusement. Ned and Peter sit next to each other, rapt with the conversation topic. My tray hits the table with a tiny clatter, which is enough to draw them out of their own world.

"Hey, guys." I smile and suddenly become terrified when their eyes widen in panic. A layer of sweat coats my palms, and before I can think the words start to tumble past my lips. "Is it okay if I join you? I can go somewhere else if you don't want me to. I really don't want to intrude. Actually, um, I—I'll just go." I pick up my tray and turn to move, mentally scolding myself for assuming they would want me to join them at all.

"No! Stay!" Peter shouts before I can even take a step. The sudden shout from the usually quiet table seems to draw the attention of everyone surrounding us, and Peter tries to—but fails— to simply brush it off. Luckily, most people stop paying attention after a few seconds. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. It's just you—you don't have to go."

"You sure? I don't mind, and I would hate to make you uncomfortable." I tell him.

"Me uncomfortable? I'm totally fine." He nervously chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck, and I give in. For no other reason than he actually managed to not stutter around me.

I try to tell myself that it's not because of the smile that appears when I take my seat across from him and Ned, and it's most certainly not because of the way both of them are terrible at hiding their stares. "You two don't hang out with girls often. Do you?" I question, slowly becoming a little bit more comfortable, despite the stereotypically anxiety-inducing situation.

"What? We hang out with girls all the time." Ned tells me and crosses his arms proudly.

"I don't count, and neither do the decathlon meetings." The girl down the table calls not lifting her eyes from her book. "Didn't your mom teach you it's wrong to lie?"

A chuckle escapes me at the comment. I make eye contact with the girl, who cracks a microscopic smirk and nod in approval. I turn back to Ned and Peter who still stare at me in a mix of awe and terror. "Guys, I'm not gonna bite. So stop looking at me like I'm a tiger about ready to pounce."

"Sorry," Peter mumbles and turns his gaze down to his food, but I can still feel him glancing back up at me.

"So, you guys ready for that Chemistry test on Friday?" Ned questions in an attempt to break the tension as he rips open a bag of crisps. I groan at the mention of the dreaded class. "I'll take that as a no?"

"Definitely a no. I've only been here for less than a week, and I'm already going to fail a test." I sigh and take a bit of my food. "Chemistry has always been my worst."

"Why don't you study with us?" Ned offers with a goofy grin dancing across his features. I get the feeling there's something he's not mentioning or an alternate motive. Especially from his not-so-subtle nudge to Peter's ribcage. "We could another person to study with, and Peter's a whiz at Chemistry."

"You guys wouldn't mind? I don't want to throw off your studying by forcing you to help me out." I tug at my sleeves as my anxiety crawls up my spine. Maybe I was wrong; maybe I should go back to hiding in the middle of Liz's crowd and remain unnoticed—unseen. I just decide to lie and cover my tracks so they don't feel guilty for saying no. "I mean, I can always see if my step-dad can help me. I have to stop by my mum's place anyway to catch up with her and swap out some stuff. You really shouldn't feel obligated or anything."

Peter's eyes meet mine, and I can see the previous worry seeming to subside at the sight of my own. There are that kindness and determination reflected in his brown eyes just like on the first day we met, and I have to break away before I get too wrapped up in his gaze.

I'm really have to be cautious around him. I remind myself as I brush aside the flurry of thoughts and feelings that linger despite the broken moment.

"Yeah, you should definitely join us, Lia," Peter tells me with a small smile. A silent understanding passes between us as if we both know the other much better than intended and suddenly bonded over our shared monsters.

I manage a small smile in return and hope that my cheeks aren't too flushed as I reply, "I'd like that."

"Awesome! Oh, and if we finish studying early we can work on my Lego Millennial Falcon!" Ned cheers and I chuckle at the blood that rushes to Peter's cheeks after the prolonged eye contact with me. Peter turns to Ned with a scolding look before meekly turning to me. "That is if you would want to."

"Are you kidding? I would love to." I tell him with and brush a stray piece of hair from my face. "I've actually constructed the Millennial Falcon, Death Star, and assault walker with my friends back home before I left. Star Wars and 80s cinema was kind of our things. Just don't hate me for liking Star Trek better."

Both boys look at me with slack jaws and wide eyes. Ned pats Peter on the shoulder. "Lia, we officially welcome you to the inner circle. Peter, prepare for some competition for my best friend."

I barely manage to hold in a laugh as the two dissolves into another ridiculous, joking argument, and for a moment, I don't doubt that I made the right choice.