Realization hits harder than a hundred bricks falling from the sky with lightning and a hail storm in pursuit. Then a second realization hits like boulders bigger than islands.

Tomorrow is Monday.

Tomorrow is school.

But most importantly: Tomorrow is the day I have to come within five feet of people. People who have most likely seen my viral video.

Ｓｃｈｏｏｌ

𝐀𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞

Ｓｃｈｏｏｌ

𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

I've already dug six feet into my bedroom floor—not physically, obviously, since I would have fallen through the floor long ago and landed in the kitchen sink, which would be very unpleasant since my mom is washing the dishes...Emilie has come in ten times, complaining about the noise my feet are making on my carpet—I don't know if she has stellar hearing or she just wants to be annoying, and Mia has threatened to call the cops thirty times...no, forty, claiming that ruining her 'image' is enough to get me life in prison. At least I wouldn't have to go back to school if I were in prison.

"Okay, take a deep breath, Paris," I say to myself. "All you have to do is wear a disguise. Yes, a disguise. Perfect."

A sudden thump at my window makes me scream. My head snaps in the direction of the window and I see a face smushed against the glass. My eyes go wide at the sight. I narrow my eyes and stare for a minute longer before I finally recognize the face. I walk over to the window and open it. Immediately Lucas tumbles inside and lands on his face. He lets out a groan. I give him a curious look and then sit down in front of him with my legs crossed. "What are you doing here?" I question.

He unsticks his face from the floor and looks up at me, his soft brown hair falling in front of his eyes. His face immediately brightens when he sees me. "I was worried I had the wrong window!" he exclaims, not answering my question.

He holds out a hand for me to help him up, but I just rise to my own feet to stand above him with my hands on my hips. "What are you doing here?" I repeat.

He drops his outstretched hand. "Are you mad at me?"

I blink as thoughts from Saturday come rushing back. "No..." He raises one eyebrow. "Not really."

"You don't have to spare my feelings," he says, his eyes trailing back to the ground. "I know what happened is my fault."

"Lucas—"

He holds up a hand to silence me, refusing to detach his eyes from the floor. "I just want to know what happened. Do you have stage fright? I would have understood if you had explained before."

I take a deep breath before saying, "I'd rather not pour my feelings out to the back of your head. It just feels weird."

He nods and quickly rises to his feet. I gesture to my desk chair, and he sits down. When he doesn't speak, I realize it's now my turn to lead the conversation. I settle down on my bed, adjusting way more than is necessary before I finally take a deep breath and begin. "Yes, I have stage fright." When he looks guilty, I continue. "But I'm the one who chose to go on that stage. I really thought I could do it." I pause, looking down at my fingers clinging to my legs with burning eyes. "You know that feeling when you think you're absolutely sure you've gotten over something but in reality it's just dormant, waiting for the right trigger? Like a moment of embarrassment, triggered by a place or person, a strong fear...triggered by a certain face or expression..."

That's when I see a flash of realization on his face. "Did you see someone you recognized in the crowd?"

"Yes..." I reply. "At least, I think I did. It could have been my imagination."

He looks down as if in thought. Finally, he looks up. "What are you going to do about tomorrow?"

"Do you think my parents would believe white powder, a heating pad, and fake vomit?"

"Even if you managed to trick your parents, Tuesday would become the new Monday."

"Two sick days aren't rare or anything."

"You understand my point. You can't dodge this forever, and you know it." When I don't reply, he continues, "I think you should go. But it's up to you." He rises from his chair and walks over to the window. "Hopefully, I'll see you tomorrow." He gives me a crooked smile before slipping out into the night.

After a few minutes of staying in the somewhat peaceful stillness, a thought occurs to me.

How did Lucas climb the smooth wall to reach my window?

I walk over and look outside but see nothing. I hadn't seen any rope when he had climbed in either. I grab my phone from my desk and type furiously.

How did you get to the window?

I see dots appear and wait patiently for his reply.

That's a secret :wink:

I roll my eyes and type my reply.

Come on, just tell me.

I'll tell you tomorrow. But only at school. And don't be late!

I run my tongue over my teeth in frustration and then throw my phone on my bed. "I can just see his smug face right now," I say to myself.

"Who's smug face? Never mind, I don't care." I turn to see Emilie standing against my bedroom doorframe. I hadn't even heard her open the door. "My boyfriend broke up with me, and I wanted someone to give me pity. I knew I wouldn't be able to get any out of Mia and Mom and Dad would ask too many questions...so here I am. You can bring on the sympathy now. I'm waiting." She closes her eyes and extends her arms expectantly.

I stare for a minute before crossing the room and giving her a tight hug. I feel her arms twitch before she starts struggling and kicking and screaming. "That wasn't the kind of sympathy I was looking for!" she cries through grunts and heavy breathing.

I pull away of my own accord and ask, "Since when do you have a boyfriend anyway?"

She adjusts her outfit and smoothes invisible dirt off her skirt. I roll my eyes. "Had a boyfriend. He broke up with me because I 'talked too much about that other boy'. The dude's gotta chill. He's just jealous and envious. No matter how hard he tries, he can never be as beautiful as Lucas."

"I don't think Lucas would appreciate you calling him beautiful," I say, setting my hands on my hips and raising an eyebrow.

"Darling, beautiful means he's gorgeous and handsome and cute all at once. It's the greatest compliment a guy can receive from me." She gives her hair a flip before walking over to my bed and jumping onto it.

"Aren't you like ten? Why do you have a boyfriend?"

"Just because you're single and will never be ready to mingle, doesn't mean everyone shares your lonely lifestyle." She crosses her legs and leans forward, covering half of her mouth with her hand. "The truth is, he's had a crush on me since first grade. I had to give the poor kid a chance. Plus, I wanted to shove it in Alexus' face since she's had a crush on him since before grade school. The children in my class are hopeless."

"You're hopeless," I reply, walking over and sitting in front of her on the bed. "You're too young to date anyways."

"And you're too old!"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

"In my opinion, even I'm still too young to date."

"Objection."

"What?"

"Perjury." She throws her fist against the bed. "Overruled!"

"You've been watching too many legal dramas." I shake my head and stand but she grabs my wrist.

"Wait," she says seriously.

She's about to continue when I interrupt. "Don't you think you're too young to start breaking people's hearts and ruining friendships so that you can have a relationship that lasts a few hours? Have you ever thought about what it's like to be on the other side of your tormenting?"

Her hand stills against my arm, her large eyes suddenly making her actually look her age and not the age she pretends to be. Her hand suddenly drops and she asks quietly, "Have you?"

I blink, staring down at her face. Suddenly she looks so...vulnerable...I almost feel bad for my words. But the image of Penny brings the words to my lips. "I didn't have to. It actually happened to me."

I'm not here for pity.

I hate pity. I hate attention.

I honestly didn't mean to bring the conversation to me. But here we are, her staring up at me in dull shock—nothing can fully override the look of guilt written on her face—and me looking down with a cool, hard stare. The room develops a sudden chill, and I can't help shivering.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. I make her repeat it since I can't believe my ears. "I'm sorry," she says again, louder. "I never really thought about how they felt. I must really be sick if I enjoy making a game of people's feelings." She looks down at her entangled fingers, squeezing them so tightly together that they turn white.

Penny's final smile before completely disappearing from my life flashes in my mind. It was an icy, unfeeling smile that showed how much she enjoyed watching me suffer. That idea that she enjoyed playing with others' feelings is what rings clear in my head now. It isn't the fact that she betrayed me, but the fact that a human being is capable of such...nonchalance. Like nothing in the world mattered but themselves and entertaining their twisted heart.

"You're not sick," I reply. "Not yet anyway. But you should start with apologizing."

"What if they don't forgive me?"

"Then that's on them," I answer firmly.

Emilie looks up at my ceiling, her brows turned downward and a grin revealing her teeth.

"Emilie?" I raise an eyebrow.

"What?" She questions back. "I'm just thinking of exactly what I'm going to say tomorrow. I'm doing my job and apologizing so you do your job and forgive me."

"Maybe you should approach the subject more lightly—"

"Your outfit choice might be as awful as usual, Parper, darling, but that's not what I'm here for today." She stands up, her eyes focused nowhere as she goes through the confrontation in her head. She takes a step towards the door and continues, "And you, my pitiful ex, just get together with Alexus already. I know you couldn't resist my cuteness, but it's time to move on..." Her voice fades as she exits the room.

One step at a time, I guess.

One step at a time.