forum A Thousand Cranes // Rated PG-15 // Eris

Started November 30, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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After dinner, Emmy intercepts me when I bring my tray back down to the kitchen. She’s sitting with Nick at the table. It looks like they were enjoying coffee and dessert together. "I don't want to meddle, but I want to talk to you about eating in school. You should not skip any more meals. You are still losing weight — don't think I haven't noticed." She says almost sternly when I want to protest. "Would you try using the fluid food you had before? Just one, during lunch hour? Then you won't go too long without nutrition. I know you don't like it, but it's a quick and maybe more easy way to get some food inside of you."

I frown at her suggestion. The fluid food is vile, and I wish I would never have to deal with that again.

"Cassia," Nick says. He’s using the voice that I have dubbed the ‘Dr. James Intense Voice’. "Listen to us, sweetie. You are underweight and malnourished. You have deprived your body of proper food for—well—too long. Please try to eat something. It doesn't have to be the fluid food, but it needs to be something. Crackers, an apple–You're more prone to illness if you don't eat properly."

I take a deep breath, feeling how my heart beats against my chest and how my entire body is shaking. I don't want to get sick because I can't eat. Then it would be my fault. Again.

"Anything you want." Emmy placates. "You can eat anything you want, just as long as you try. Iona, or Declan, will be more than happy to help you find a quiet place to have lunch."

I bite my lip and then suck it — my lower lip is continuously sore from the worrying it receives time and again.

"Think about it," Nick states as he stands, moving past me to the fridge. "I would hate it if we had to put you on other supplements. Those probably taste as vile as that goo food."

That notion alone is alarming enough to make me want to eat more. But they are right. I am still losing weight. Although I should be on four meals a day, I have found it is easy to skip either lunch or a four o'clock snack. It's easy to forget them entirely. I'm not used to eating on such a regular basis and honestly, I'm very rarely hungry.

I don't care about the weight thing though. I don't care about my body, at all.

A flash of the corpse in the mirror comes to my minds eye and I’m reminded that she is me. I have to look down at the kitchen floor to hide that shame that floods my cheeks. I say I don’t care about my body, but my immediate reaction to seeing my own reflection was the exact opposite. Somebody help her…

But I know I deserve this.

Finally, they let me go and I am allowed to retreat to my room. I made it clear to Emmy I will set my own alarm and I will make sure I will be ready in time to go to school.

I am packing my bookbag when Iona knocks on my door. "Can I come in? I thought we could compare schedules."

I open the door for her and let her into the room. We place our schedules next to each other to check when I am in class with another James sibling. Only two classes. The fact makes my heart tighten in panic. That is so much time alone… I have Calculus with Iona and Biology with Declan.

I can tell exactly when her eyes land on ‘Band Studies – Violin’ because her eyes widen, and she peeks at me from the corner of her eye. Mercifully, she keeps her words behind a soft smirk.

So, two out of seven classes, a James will be there. Iona assures me she will arrange with the teacher that I can sit next to her in Calculus. "You can explain it to me. I'll have my very own personal tutor." She beams, and I smile in return. It’s not a bad idea.

Iona sits down on my bed and looks at the stack of books on my desk. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

I press my lips together and nod carefully. There's a tight ball of anxiety in my guts and it has been growing steadily throughout the day. I'm trying not to think too much about tomorrow and just take it all as it comes. There's little else I can do, and I really want to go to school. I don’t want to mess up this chance I have.

"You can do it," Iona says. "And anyone trying to get to you, will have to go through me first." She forms her hands into claws and snarls, which is so funny it again makes me smile. "But seriously, you'll be the object of interest for the first couple of days. You think you can handle that?"

I shrug and move to my desk for a piece of paper.

Done it before.

"Yeah, that's true," Iona says, chewing her lip as she looks at the note. Then her gaze shifts back to me. "Do you need anything? Want anything?"

I shake my head. I'm good.

"Have you figured out what to wear yet?"

Of course, Iona would ask something like that. I point to my new black hoodie that lies over my desk chair and Iona nods. "Might as well wear something you feel comfortable in, huh? I'll ride with Dec and you tomorrow." She then announces. "We'll be there for you. Don’t worry okay? Sleep tight, Cassia." And with that, she leaves, being her old perceptive self once more.

I spend the rest of the evening making sure I have all the things I need for school. Then I put on the playlist Declan made again, skipping the first song however to prevent an overflow of unnecessary emotion.

Thankfully, nobody else disturbs me. It's an unknown bliss I can't seem to get used to. If only I could trust this calm fully, I could really appreciate it.

I prepare myself for bed slowly, but my heart is beating heavily, and my entire body is coiled up with nerves I can't seem to get rid of. Slipping in between the sheets, I set the alarm on my phone and turn off the light.

In the darkness, colors play before my eyes, dancing along and following my gaze as my eyes wander about the dark room.

It’s only about an hour before I decide that this is hopeless. The silence is oppressive, and I know I won't be able to sleep. I'm not even worried about being tired tomorrow in school. I know I can easily skip a night and then still make it through the next day. If I have about three hours of sleep and some good strong coffee in the morning, I can muddle through all right.

The only thing that does worry me is that I won't be able to maintain my habit of napping after school. I used to catch on to sleep, or homework, or food, or whatever, before William would come home from work. But here, I don't think it will be possible to nap. I don't think it would be appreciated. I am scared to ask Emmy permission to sleep during the day. I have seen Declan doing it once before, but it's not a habit of the people in this household.

I bite my lip and turn to my side. Forcing my eyes closed. When they snap open again, only five minutes have passed. I sigh. No, I don't think I will be able to go to sleep.

Sighing, I slip out of bed and into soft sweats. I need fresh air. Once again, I've not been outside all day. It's going to be a problem to get out of the house here at all. I don't have any means of transportation and walking alone outside seemed daunting.

Drat.

I make my way down the stairs and into the hallway, where I quietly put on my coat. I slide my feet into my shoes and walk out to the porch.

When I step outside, the crisp night air hitting my face, I get the shock of my life when I hear a voice.

"Oh—Hi, Cass."

Declan. Always Declan.

I gasp audibly and my breath escapes in a rush as I grip the door to gather my bearings again.

"I have a knack of startling you," Declan's voice sounds in the dark, but I still can’t see him clearly. His voice sounds like its coming from my left. "I'm sorry. I would have left a light on if I knew you were coming."

A tiny light flares up and I see that Declan is holding up his phone, the lit screen casting a faint glow on the porch to guide my way.

"Come sit with me," he says softly. A pat pat on his hand on the porch lets me know that he really does want me next to him.

I hesitate. There is no light here. I won't be able to see what he's doing. I swallow, my mouth suddenly completely dry.

"No need to be afraid of me." It's almost a whisper. "Don't you know that by now?"

He's right. It's my ingrained instinct that warns me, because reasonably I know he's not luring me into a trap.

Shuffling forward, Declan lights up the flashlight of his phone to guide my way. Finally, I can see him shifting to make plenty of room between us and I sink down on the porch, twisting slightly so I can lean back against the banister.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" Declan says in the dark.

Yeah, I can nod now, but that won't really work, now will it? I left my phone upstairs, still not really used to carrying it everywhere. I shrug, hoping he can hear the sound of my clothes rustling and figure out what I mean.

I'm not really surprised when Declan holds out his phone to me. "Talk to me."

I gently take the phone without really thinking. I’m not sure what he wants me to say. It’s obvious that I can’t sleep…so what’s the point of saying it? I look at the phone, not knowing what to do really. Finally, an idea strikes and I type.

Thanks for the CD. The songs are wonderful.

In the faint light of the phone I can see Declan's bright smile. "Happy you liked it. I have more music to share. You can come have a look someday—if you want, you know."

I think we both know chances I'll do that are slim. I look away from his smile, lips turning down slightly.

"So, are you nervous for tomorrow?"

Yes.

"I would be too. But we all meant what we said today. We're here for you, even though it seems you find it hard to believe that. We won't… turn on you or anything." He leans forward and even in the dark, I can see the intensity of his gaze.

I swallow thickly and I'm mortified to notice that the sound of it can actually be heard in the silence outside. It's almost completely windless, there's just the faintest rushing in the trees.

Declan is quiet for a moment, thankfully not asking why I find it so hard to believe him, his family. I think he's fiercely loyal to those he loves. It would hurt him to know the true reasons why I can’t…I can’t share in his feelings. I also think he's never been truly disappointed before. His trust has never been betrayed.

"Can I ask you a question?" Declan then asks, his voice has gotten softer, loosing that harsh edge he has on the day to day.

Well, he's going to do it anyway, isn't he? I wait for him to speak again. But he only speaks after I nod slightly.

"That song, Fantaisie Impromptu, it does something to you when you hear it. I saw your entire face change when you were listening to it. Will you tell me why it's so special to you? I’d never seen your eyes light up like that before, but it also looked like you may cry…I wasn’t sure if it was right to ask you at the time, but I can’t get it out of my head." He chuckles a little, reaching up to scratch the bridge of his nose a bit awkwardly.

I chew my lip until I can taste blood as I look at the phone in my hand. The screen lights up, then dies down again. I let it light up, until it dies down again. Do I tell him?

What do I have to lose?

He gave me something, too. His music is a gift that I don’t know if I will be able to return–ever. But maybe I should give something small back?

Or maybe I simply want to tell him. Want him to know why the song is special to me. I know it by heart — even if they took the CD away from me, I could play it over and over in my head, and nobody can steal away my memories.

No one.

I hold my breath.

It reminds me of my mother.

Declan does not speak, but I know he has read the text. Instead, I am fairly sure I hear him swallow.

"I'm sorry," He says finally, so softly it's a rough whisper. "Do you miss her?"

His question catches me off guard so much I sit back abruptly. I frown and shake my head a little, but his words have reached my brain and now they are being dissected and wreaking havoc in a once dormant part of my emotions.

"I'm sorry," Declan says again. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut."

But I'm already typing.

No. I don’t miss her.

"You… You don't." He isn’t looking at the phone, but straight at me, dark brows coming down over his eyes so strongly I can’t see the blue anymore, not even in the light. Declan doesn’t look mad though, almost as if he’s trying to figure out a really hard puzzle.

I show him the screen again. Shaking it a little to make the point more obvious.

I don't allow myself to. She left me for good reasons. I made her so angry…

No. Don't go there.

Declan exhales and even in this darkness I can see how he rakes a hand through his hair. His free hand gently takes his phone from me. "O–okay. I'm sorry to have pried."

I shrug. It's okay. He didn't know. I was prepared for him wanting to know why that song means so much to me, so it doesn’t really matter.

A cold gust of wind reminds us both we are outside and getting cold.

"We should go to bed." Declan says softly, as if he regrets it. He yawns and stretches, getting up to wait by the door for me. We go inside and hang up our coats, still engulfed by the darkness in the silent house.

At my bedroom door, I halt and turn to offer him some form of goodnight. He’s leaning up against the wall by my door, giving me that same look he was outside.

"If you need anything tomorrow, just text me." Declan says softly so as not to wake the others.

I nod, not sure why I’m lingering. When I turn to reach for the doorknob, Declan speaks again. "Oh, and Cassia? Thank you, for confiding in me tonight."

Stunned, I nod once more into the darkness and slip into my room.

He thanked me. What does that mean? Why would he do that?

Still, underneath, I find I'm happy I told him. Somehow it feels like my burden is a tiny bit lighter, now I am no longer the only one that knows.

Declan said he saw it in my face. I wonder what he sees in there. I'm as ugly as the night — I'm amazed he would look at me in the first place, let alone notice differences in my expression.

I sigh, lock the door, and try to go to sleep.

~O~

I wake early, startled by the alarm on my phone and disoriented for a moment, blinking at the light streaming in through the window I left open to count the stars last night.

The realization of what today will behold crashes down on me and I have to hurry into the bathroom to make it to the toilet in time. Last night’s dinner makes a startling appearance and I curse myself. This is not how this day was supposed to start. But I figure I should have been prepared for it.

I grit my teeth when I'm done, trying to swallow away the severe burning of the gall in my throat.

I can do this. I have to.

After I shower and scrub my teeth fiercely, I get dressed and bring my bag downstairs with me.

Emmy is up already, and she points at a bowl of cereal on the breakfast bar as she blows on a steaming cup of coffee. "For you. Have it in the library if it's too chaotic here for you, sweetie. But I want you eat something."

The moment she leaves the kitchen, I pour the cereal down the drain.

I can't. I'm sorry.

Declan and Iona simultaneously burst into the kitchen, all encouraging smiles and reassuring words. Their excitement is almost contagious, and I have to look away. I’m not sure if I’m ready to be happy about the coming battle or not.

When it's time to go, Emmy hands me a package of fluid food and catches my gaze before she speaks. "If you find you can't, or if you get scared, or if there's anything at all–text me and I'll pick you up. No repercussions. No consequences. If you find you can't do it today, we can try it again later. Okay, Cassia?"

I nod because I know that's what she expects me to do. I’m sure she knows that I’m not going to do what she asks. Emmy knows how much this means to me; I’m not going to ruin my chance.

Sure enough she’s not convinced, but she lets me go. "Have your phone with you?"

I nod, and she smiles. "Alrighty then. Off you go!"

The drive to school is quiet.

Well, it actually isn't, as Iona is chattering away and Declan is keeping a close eye on me through his rearview mirror, but to me, it's quiet.

I'm slowly distancing myself from it all. Step by step, I step away from the window of reality, until I am surrounded by a fuzzy white noise that surrounds me like a cushion. Signals will get in, and I won't miss anything, but I am prepared now.

When we arrive at the parking lot, I get out and look at the school. The main building is a rather tall, imposing, brick building that looms over everyone just like the cloudy sky. Many students are already meandering in and some are already curiously looking at me as they call greetings over to the James twins.

I take a cleansing breath.

I can do this. I have to.

Wrapping my arms around my waist, I hold myself as I take the final mental step back and shut myself almost completely down. I can still hear, see, smell, and feel. It's just all from afar now.

In my peripheral vision, I see that Iona narrows her eyes at me.

She noticed.

Fuck.

As promised, Declan and Iona both walk with me to the administration office. Declan even holds open the door for me and waits near that same door as I walk forward towards Ms. Lee.

The receptionist greets me with a smile and gives me a slip I have to get each teacher to sign. At the end of the day, I have to bring it back to her. She makes a joke about me not being able to skip on her watch, but I’m too deep in my mind to do more than smile weakly. Honestly, I’m not even sure what she said. My hands are shaking enough to be noticeable; I stare at them as Ms. Lee chatters on and with a little frown, I shove them into my pockets. The paper in my hand crinkling painfully against my skin.

Ms. Lee also hands me my locker number and the lock combination, and a note I can show the teachers, just in case they forgot about my silence. The note provides the same basic information Mr. Greene wrote down last Friday, only with a bit more words used and a 'please welcome Cassia to your class with gentle care.'

I am sincerely grateful for this note and I bow my head in thanks.

"I think your—protectors—” A sly glance at the twins looming over either of my shoulders. “–will guide you to your classes, dear, but here's a map of the school so you don’t get lost."

She hands me a piece of paper, on which she has conveniently pointed out the classrooms I will need for my subjects. I nod again, and then the twins escort me out to my first class of the day — English.

The walk in silent on my end, I’m too busy trying to memorize the map so I don’t have to have it stuck in front of my nose all day. My gaze keeps darting about the halls we walk through though. They’re bright, almost painfully so, the linoleum a pale beige that only reflects the strong buzzing lights overhead, and the numerous posters that clutter the wall cheerfully trying to recruit students to certain clubs, sporting events, and other extracurriculars.

Iona and Declan greet people as they walk beside me, and it takes me a moment to realize that the pair are popular. Incredibly so, if the number of claps on Declan’s shoulder or the trilling call of Iona’s name coming from every direction are telling enough.

God. How I must look standing beside them.

I bow over the map once more, determined to commit it to memory so the twins don’t have to been seen around me too often. I’ve already thrown quite a monkey wrench into their home life, no need to do it as school as well.

We come to a stop outside of a tall deep green door, and I feel my stomach drop as my gaze goes from the paper in my hands to the window showing the classroom just beyond. Students are already milling around inside.

"We'll leave you here.”

“You okay?"

Iona and Declan speak simultaneously, their voices harmonizing as they cut looks to each other. There seems to be a silent communication between them for a moment before they both turn back to me. Iona looks as confident as ever, but there is a slightly worried frown tugging back at her smile. Declan on the other hand, looks fierce, heavy dark brows crinkling over his blues.

I bite my lip and nod, responding to both of them. I have to be strong.

"Text me if you need anything." Declan repeats his ask from the night before. His hand comes up to reach towards me, but he drops it again. “Your hair is in your face, Cass.” He mumbles as he takes a step back.

I quickly tuck the stubborn lock behind my ear. He nods.

Iona looks around me, seeing the other students craning their necks. Then she meets my eyes again and gives her crooked grin. "Me too, okay? You're a big girl. I can hardly tell you to kick some ass, but don't take any shit, got me?"

I nod at her words my own small smile appearing.

"Mmkay. Can you make it to your next class from here? If not, we’ll come get you again. It won’t bother us. Promise."

I nod again. I'm a big girl, just like she said.

I can do this. I will have to.

After another moment of just looking at me, the twins bid me goodbye and saunter off just as the second bell rings. I take a steading breath and step into the classroom.

Armed with the note from Ms. Lee, I walk up to the teacher. He reads it, nodding along to the words on the page before introducing himself as Mr. Mason. Studying me from under greying brows Mr. Mason signs the slip. Then he gently tells me to find a place in class as he hands me a syllabus and a list of books we will go over in the class.

I exhale softly in relief. I’ve read most already. That's one hurdle overtaken. The man doesn't even introduce me to the class.

A small blessing.

I look over the tables and notice to my utter relief that in the back, there is a completely empty table left. I walk to the back of the class, ignoring the eyes on me, and slip into my new seat. So many new faces… I know that by the end of the week I will know at least some names. And all of them will know mine.

The creepy blond guy I saw in Biology last week is in this class too. He's looking at me with unguarded curiosity and I know it will be a matter of time before he will come up to me and talk. He’s not the only one staring though, and I’m suddenly praying for anything to distract me from the number of eyes on me.

I can feel the tingling sense of panic, building around my heart-

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's a text from Nick and I read it under the table just before the teacher calls the class to attention.

Good luck! You can do it!

The panic around my heart eases a little bit. Even Nick believes in me.

I let the Mr. Mason’s words seep through the remaining panic and find myself oddly relaxed as I finally enjoy some education again. I take careful neat notes as we discuss a book I've read before on a voluntary basis — Wuthering Heights. Not an entirely fun book to read on one’s own, but I had enjoyed.

And I do have my very own copy of it now, thanks to Emmy.

The hour passes more quickly than I expected it would and when the bell rings, I brace myself again. I pack my bag quickly wanting to get out of class as soon as possible, but just by the door I am intercepted by a black-haired guy that looks faintly Asian.

I step back from him to create more space between us, but he doesn't even notice. He’s stuck out a hand between us, but thankfully I’m holding my bag in one hand and my notebook in the other.

"Hi, I'm Wyn, Wyn Ton," he says, smiling brightly.

I just nod, there is nothing else I can do. We’re blocking the door a bit, but no one around us seems to be bothered by this fact. They’ve all adopted that curious gaze again.

"You're new here, right? Cassia Sinclair? I can give you a tour of the school. I'm on the paper, so I know all the juicy details of this madhouse." He holds up a camera as he speaks, carelessly shaking it in his hand to emphasis his point.

I shake my head, trying to indicate that a tour is not necessary. I look longingly out to hallway, hoping that he’ll get the point. Someone clears their throat around us, and I can feel the impatience growing.

Crap. Crap.

"So, ehm, since I work for the school paper too, so you deserve a feature. You know how long it’s been since we had a new student? Like—forever. Not to mention you’re friends with the James twins already? You’re going places, chickadee. Anyway—can I interview you? Also, if you ever need anything, like a map, or a shoulder to cry on–"

"She's more the silent type of girl." I hear Declan say. "Ready to go, Cassia?"

Hey, we agreed he wouldn’t pick me up?

"Oh—ah–okay," Wyn says, obviously confused but fortunately picking up on Declan’s dismissal. "Well, nice to meet you. Just let me know if you need any help, okay? I'm here."

I look at this Wyn, unmoving for a moment, before I step around him to meet Declan. Best to ignore these efforts. They'll stop quickly enough. I hope.

"Iona told you not to take any shit." Declan scolds, but he’s not angry. He’s actually smiling, and that dark look from this morning has faded away completely. He looks relaxed and warm. "Come on, what's your next class?"

Why he is doing this, I don't know, but I will have to thank him properly as soon as I get the chance. With Declan as my guide, or guard, nobody comes up to me to ask or introduce. I wonder what exactly his reputation is around this school.

He drops me off at Government and then hurries away with a salute, almost late for his own class.

See, I don't want that. I don't want them to inconvenience themselves in any way. If Declan is late, it will be my fault.

In Government, I am once more without my ‘guards’. The teacher, Mr. Anderson, looks doubtful when I hand him the note and give him the slip to sign, but he doesn't say anything. Instead firmly shoving a textbook into my hands before he, too, orders me to find a spot and I'm disappointed to learn that I will have to sit next to somebody here.

My eyes search the room, scanning faces as the sharp pain of panic spears me in the gut. Finally, a girl with long, dark, curly hair looks at me through her glasses. She smiles kindly at me and it's the first gaze I meet that is not burning with curiosity, but simply with kindness.

She's sitting alone at a table. The only free spot left in class.

I can do this.

I make my way towards her, careful to see any signs that would indicate she doesn't want me there, but instead she slides her books to her half of the table and greets me with a smile when I sit down.

"Hi there!"

I nod back, focusing on the tabletop.

"I'm Tatiana." She says extending her mocha colored hand towards me.

I nod again and busy my own hands with another notebook so it’s obvious I can’t take her hand.

Her name rings a bell. From a century ago, when Iona sat on my bed with me and told me about the goings on at school. Wasn't ‘Tatiana’ one of the names she then used? What are the chances that this would be the same ‘Tatiana’? Iona said she was really nice…

But why does everybody have this uncanny urge to make conversation? It would be so much easier for me if people just didn't address me. In Los Angeles, I was pointedly ignored.

"So, ehm, who are you?" She laughs softly. “Sorry—I was trying to figure out how to say that without it coming out rude, but…I failed.”

I look at the girl, at her confused but kind face. Either she's not the Tatiana I think I heard about, or the James kids have never mentioned me at school. But—Wyn had known about me? Maybe they’re all in different social circles? I frown. One could get a headache trying to figure out how high school works. She doesn't look like she wants something to gossip about later however, but what do I know?

Finally, I sigh and decide to just give her the note Ms. Lee gave me. People are bound to find out, especially if the James’ haven’t told anybody about me. That wouldn't surprise me, though. Emmy mentioned that the town was full of gossips. I would have liked it though if it had taken a bit longer for my story to be known here. I'm enough of a novelty as is.

Half the students here are looking at me as if I'm some shiny new toy they want to play with.

Yuck.

I slide the note from Ms. Lee towards Tatiana on the table. She reads it and her eyes grow wide.

"You're Cassia? You live with the James’, right?"

Okay, so she is the Tatiana I heard about in Iona’s stories. I nod, slowly.

"And you don't talk?" She asks softly. Her hazel eyes growing ever softer and concerned.

I shake my head in confirmation of her question.

"Oh…I see." She says slowly, obviously lost for words.

With a half shrug and a nod, I try to convey that it's really nothing special. Not that I would care what Tatiana thinks, but she seemed nice and even if I can manage her not turning against me, it's all worth it, isn't it?

With a jolt, I realize that painful feeling in my chest is not panic, somehow that had eased away before I noticed, the feeling instead is longing… Do I want…friends?

Holy shit.

"Well, welcome to Willow Hills High. Don't let the grandeur blow you away." She says with a gentle half smile to soften her sarcasm as she hands me back the note.

Surprisingly, I smile back at her.

The teacher calls the class to attention and I focus front, trying to get into this subject I thoroughly loathe.

After a few minutes, Tatiana slips a note my way across the table.

If you need any help around school, just let me know! :D

Oh dear, another one. I can't just ignore her, can I? I mean, I do know some social rules and all. I shift in my seat as that feeling punches me in the gut again. I want to make friends—ah—acquaintances. Acquaintances are safe.

I write back:

Will do. Thanks.

I debate adding my own smiley, but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate.

Tatiana beams at me and then focuses on the teacher again, and I huddle deeper into the blanket of my sweater for comfort. What am I doing? Am I insane? Friends complicate everything…not to mention they can hurt you way more than most.

When we're halfway through the lecture, another note is slid towards me.

You just moved here, right?

Ah yes, I should have seen this coming. The questions will be many. I chew my lip, trying to decide how much I can tell. Then again, it won't be long before people find out, right?

I came here a month ago.

Tatiana reads, then leans in to whisper, carefully keeping an eye on the teacher. "Iona mentioned you a few times, but she didn't say you don't talk… Are you a foster child?"

I should have lied. Or kept my mouth shut. Crap. Still, I nod, blushing for God knows why and looking away.

"It's okay," She whispers so softly I can hardly hear. "I won't tell anyone if it makes you uncomfortable. Iona and Declan haven't put attention on it, either. Iona just mentioned you once or twice, nothing special."

I have to look at her to see if she's honest. Her eyes are big as she takes me in and suddenly, I realize there's a lot she can deduce just from the fact that I live in foster care.

Oh no, this was not supposed to happen.

I look front again, frowning. This was not how I had imagined this would go. I was going to stand back and let all that go past me, just follow classes and ignore everyone until they would ignore me. It would only take a few days until most of the curiosity would wear off.

And now I am in what I could call a ‘conversation’ with a girl on my first day of school. Already revealing way, way more than I ever intended to.

I like it not.

"Hey." Tatiana says softly, to get my attention again.

I can't move to look at her. Instead shifting uncomfortably in my chair.

Fuck. How could I let this happen?

We sit through the end of class and the tension between us is almost tangible. With just a few more minutes to go, one final note slips my way just as we open our planners to write down our homework assignment for the next day.

I make a point of not reading it until the bell has rang and students are getting up. Some linger in the class, shooting me glances, but I focus on packing my bag meticulously. When the class is almost empty and Tatiana is gone, I read the note.

Sorry if I upset you. I only meant to be kind. My curiosity can get away from me sometimes. If you need a friend, I'm here. :D Tati

That's… Unbelievable.

I shove the note in the back pocket of my jeans and ignore it because it really is unbelievable. As if anybody wanted to be my friend.

I exit the classroom and am met by a happy looking Iona. "Hey there you are! I thought for a sec that you may have slipped past me. Come spend break with us? We found a quiet little spot."

Her voice breaks through my haze and I respond to her words just a fraction of a second late. Iona’s smile wavers just slightly at my nod. Already too weary to fight her, I follow her as she weaves us through the nearly empty hallways. We stop by my locker, but I make clear that I don't need to use it. The one directly to the left of mine is absolutely covered in stickers. Bands, records, ipods, even a ninja dancing. I have to say it’s really cute, and apparently Iona agrees as she shakes her head and mutters something under her breath with a smile.

With Iona guiding me, people keep their distance. Iona does not stare others down, like Declan did, but with somebody alongside me, I am left alone. I should have realized this earlier. I am marked territory as long as I am not alone. I wonder if the James kids realize this and walk me places just for this purpose.

Iona brings me to a quiet corner indeed, although I suspect they would not be hard to find in a tiny school like this one. I am used to dodging crowds. Honestly, the absence of the roar of a thousand plus students is almost creepy. Somehow, this is much scarier. I can see every pair of eyes on me because everybody here knows who I am by now. Everybody is looking.

Declan is waiting in the 'quiet corner,' together with Josh.

I am greeted with Josh’s broad smile and Declan’s scrutinizing gaze. After he gives me a quick once over, Declan’s gaze shifts into that same easy smile from this morning.

"You good?" He asks.

I nod, even though the coil of nerves in my stomach is as tight as ever. I can't really smile at him, not that I want to. To show emotions like that would mean that I’m not being as strong as I am supposed to be and I don't want that.

"So, everything went well so far?" Josh asks, reclining back on the bench and taking a bit of an apple.

I nod again. School in itself really is not such a struggle for me. Nosy teachers and annoying students are, unfortunately.

Surrounded by the trio, I take a minute to compose myself and catch my breath again. I feel now how my muscles have tensed up over these last two hours. I frown slightly against the pain as I stretch out my arms and spine.

Declan and Josh sit in front of me on the bench, chatting in soft voices about nothing in particular. Iona and I stand behind, almost hidden but not locked in. It's almost as if they are standing guard and for a long moment I wonder if they are shielding the outer world for me, or if I am shielded from the outer world. What if they really don't like to be associated with me in the school?

Pressing my lips together in resolve, I realize there is only one real way to find out if they are sincere. I should push through with that now. Get it over with, so I know what I am dealing with. I can handle it. Rejection is something I’m oh so familiar with.

I reach into my bag and pull out a blank note and a pencil. Then I write down two simple words.

Thank you.

Iona’s face lights up like a Christmas tree when she sees the note and her eyes go wide and almost seem to shimmer with–tears?

"Of course, Cassia." She says and I swear I can see her lower lip quiver. Her hand comes out to gently grip my sweater sleeve, far as possible from my skin.
Declan and Josh stop talking for a moment to see what is going on. Iona gives them the note and as Josh’s face splits open in a down right goofy smile, Declan’s tight-lipped grin is nothing but victorious.

I used all of two words?

However, their reaction does show my words are appreciated. They don't do this because they are embarrassed. I think I can be sure about that. My chest pain eases enough that I can take a deep breath. They’re…my friends?

Maybe?

Or not yet?

Man, this is confusing.

Then the bell rings and this time, Iona walks with me to my next class.

She's in Calculus, too, and she smiles reassuringly as she walks up to the teacher, Mrs. King with me.

I give the woman the note and the slip to sign, and then step back as Iona starts to plead her case about having me sit next to her in Calculus. I have to suppress my smile because this is Advanced Calculus, and Iona is making it sound like she’s never heard of math until she met me. The girl is a riot that’s for sure. Mrs. King looks equally amuse and exasperated.

What I didn't know, and what I only learn now, is that Iona is currently sitting next to Lola, Declan’s ex-girlfriend, in this class.

Even I can imagine Iona would rather sit next to me than to Lola.

But Mrs. King does not budge and I have to sit down next to another student, fortunately a girl who does not speak to me and who makes sure there is as much space as possible between my chair and hers, all the while pointedly ignoring me.

I’m actually relieved that she leaves me alone. I don’t know if I can handle another talkative desk partner.

Mrs. King is all no-nonsense as she sets her class to work on an assignment, announcing that she will come by to collect homework in the meantime.

I produce the homework from my bag and place it on the corner of the table, so the teacher can collect it.

"You did the assignment?" She asks, and the surprise almost stings.

I nod in answer.

She nods slowly and keeps on nodding as her eyes scan my work. I'm pretty sure I did well on this and as her gaze turns from doubtful to appreciative, my nerves are eased a bit.

Calculus, to me, is certainty. I wouldn't like it if I failed that now.

"We'll see how you get along here," the stern woman says dismissively. "Don't expect me to go easy on you."

There's always a teacher who is annoyed by my silence. I think I have found one in this school, too. My lips quirk ever so slightly in annoyance. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

I sigh quietly through my nose.

I work through class with vigor. It's important to me that the teacher knows I mean serious business. The one time I look up to seek out Iona, she's looking at me too. Smiling, the girl throws me a wink.

I can't wink, so I don’t even try. I wish I could smile back or give any other sign but to make eye contact, but it's simply not possible. It's a wonder I can make eye contact at all in this mess in my head, come to think of it. I hope she will understand. A notion that in itself confuses me. Since when have I been worried about upsetting or disappointing her?

I frown at the thought and immediately pull back further into my mind. Showing emotions is very dangerous right now. Frowning means I am losing my grip on my guard. Just a few more hours to go.

Mrs. King leaves me alone for the rest of the hour, but I have the feeling she'll be true to her words and test me again and again. I hope she won't make me work out answers on the whiteboard in front of class. She seems like just the woman to do such a thing.

After class, Iona walks me to Spanish. She looks into my eyes searchingly, and I know what she is looking for. I avert my gaze, uncomfortable. She is worried, I can tell.

Fortunately, she leaves me with a final well wish and I can prepare myself for my next subject.

Spanish, with a teacher whose name I can't remember for the life of me simply because of its length and obvious Hispanic emphasis, could become a problem. I can't talk, so I can't do the verbal part of the class. There is something about this in my education plan though, I recall.

The teacher comes to find me as soon as she has set her class to work and takes the seat beside me. Here, too, I have the luck to have a table to myself.

This tiny school means classes that are not overly full. I never foresaw this benefit.

"I got the memo this morning," She says, her English accented in such a lovely way that I’m almost immediately eased into relaxation. "Since you can't speak, we'll have to find a way to get you through this class. I'm thinking you can do extra written exercises instead. This will fit your IEP too. What do you think, Cassia?"

I nod, relieved that she is forthcoming.

"Very well! Come meet me after class and we'll set you up. I have a few fun workbooks that I’ve been dying to try out." She grins, clapping her slender hands together in obvious joy.

I am speechless. No pun intended.

Almost everything is going over so smoothly — I was prepared for a lot of struggle. The teachers here however, unlike Mr. Greene, the principal, don't seem to have much trouble with my silence. Except for Mrs. King, that is. I’m almost warily waiting for that other shoe to drop.

During class though, my wary wishes are granted. As soon as the teacher leaves the room for a moment, a sharp looking girl with pale blond hair and hard eyes walks up to my table, towering over me as I lean back a little to gain some space.

"I'm Cate." She says with little introduction. "Who are you?"

Nevermind not being able to speak — with her, I'm not willing to. She reminds me so fiercely of Lola that I have to swallow the bile that builds up in the back of my throat.

"Um hello? Talk to me." Cate spits. "Who are you?"

I look away, bored already with her demanding air. Heather, back at William’s, was a thousand times worse. This Cate, who I can guess is very popular, doesn't frighten me in the slightest.

Then, from somewhere behind Lauren comes a voice I would recognize anywhere. A voice I would walk away from, everywhere.

"She doesn't speak."

Lola’s words are loud enough to attract the attention of the entire class.

Shit.

Cate whirls around to look at Lola. "What?"

Silence rings through the class and enhances the rush of the white noise in my ears. My jaw clenches and I look firmly down at my desk, shifting the papers before me so they are perfectly straight. My hands are shaking again.

"She doesn't speak. She's like, mute." The sneer could curdle milk, I swear.

Dear God girl, if you so much as hint at my past, like you did in the James’ kitchen three weeks ago, I will—God what will I do? Can I just run? Will they chase me? Panic builds in my chest and I’m suddenly wishing Emmy were here so bad that I can feel the tears pricking my eyes. I swallow them down though. I told her that I was strong enough for this.

Cate turns back to me, hand on her hip.

Around us, students are looking at me, at Cate.

The latter does a once over, taking in my tired hair, my black oversized hoodie, my books on the table and my sloppy handwriting.

"You don't talk?"

I shake my head, slowly. No need in denying it anymore, now is there?

"What, because you can't?"

I roll my eyes at the desk. Not this again.

"Are you even fully sane?" The words are so sharp, they stab at the panic in my chest. But. I’m strong. I promise. I look up at Cate, incredulous, quirking one eyebrow at her ridiculous statement.

"She lives with the James’." Lola adds, carelessly, a sly look taking over her fair features.

I can’t look at her. What if that is the catalyst for her dropping the rest of my history for the world to pick up and sort through until they have amo against me?

Cate stares at me, looking me over again. Then her demeanor swiftly changes. "The James’? Really?"

I nod once. Damn this. I want out.

"Ladies, please get back to your assignment." The teacher—Senora Arechavaleta. I remember quite suddenly–says sternly, striding back into the room like a tiny Spanish tornado.

Cate casts me one last look, then goes back to her table with Lola. When they start talking, I am pretty sure they are not discussing the weather in Spanish like we're supposed to do.

The Senora looks at me for a long moment, her gaze unreadable. I bend over my books, letting my hair fall around my face like a shield, shutting out the lingering curious glances from the rest of the students.

I know this is not over yet. Now everybody in this classroom knows, and before lunch is over, the entire school will know.

I want to sink down into a black hole and disappear.

Senora Arechavaleta is now finally up at the front of the class and calling them to attention once more.

My heart thunders in my chest.

I am strong.

I am strong.

I am…

Crap. What was the word again?

sighs Good stuff.

Declan notices my stress as he picks me up at the door after class. Although we never agreed on these things, it seems as if the twins have agreed on guiding me through my day and although I thought I would never want it, I can't deny that I like not having to do this alone.

They're there for me, much like they said they would be yesterday.

That funny warm feeling erupts again in the pit of my stomach, and as it has been before, once more it is accompanied by a certain feeling of emptiness, like I am missing something.

But above all, I am upset over what took place in that classroom.

Declan waits with me until the worst thrum of the students has moved passed, as if he's never done differently. He even makes sure that no one comes in between us be holding his hand just behind the small of my back. Not touching me, but I can feel the heat coming off of Declan’s hand. I can’t tell if it’s comforting because my heart is going a mile a minute for so many different reasons—I cant figure out how I feel about him being so close.

Declan ignores Lola and Cate, who linger around him. Lola smiles at him as she steps past—completely in his personal zone–while Cate greets him pointedly. He barely gives either of them a glance before he looks down at me as I adjust my bag on my shoulder.

"You okay?" Declan asks we walk, a frown puckering between his brows as he tries to catch my gaze. "You look tense."

I shrug it away. I don't want him to know, and I don't want him to bother.

"No, no no, Cassia, what happened?" As he ducks his head to look at me, I turn my head away, letting my hair fall around my face again. Don't do this. Please.

He stops walking and goes to stand in front of me to block my path. In automatic reaction, I step back, unable to prevent the look that escapes past my careful mask. I can feel the wide sorrow of my own gaze and can practically see it reflected back at me in Declan’s gaze. My hands come up to create space between us.

"Cass," Declan says quickly, shocked. His hands come up automatically and gently grip mine. We both stare at our hands, struck completely dumb for a span of a few seconds, before he gently lets go. His hands flex as if he touched something hot, and Declan folds his arms firmly against his chest. "Sorry…But please tell me what happened."

Damn he's persistent.

Your ex-girlfriend happened. The words harsh in my mind. Stupidly putting blame on him. I instantly feel bad and look away again. I can't vocalize myself and I really don't feel like texting the mess going on in my head.

What if I release the damn and everything that’s built up flows out?

I’d terrify him.

After a long moment of silence, Declan sighs. "Okay…no worries, Cass. Let's go eat, okay? We’re all cranky around this time of day. Do you want to go to the lunchroom or somewhere else? We can find a quieter place again if you want to?"

I shrug. It doesn't matter. I won't be able to eat, anyway.

"Tell me where to go, Cassia.” Declan insists, clearly expecting some answer from me.

I sag my shoulders in a sign of defeat. I don't know where to go, Declan. You decided to herd me around today, well, herd me to the next place then. You're obviously not going to leave me alone so I can hide out in the library or something.

Declan blinks at me, gaze flicking from my face to my hands that have stilled. I hadn’t even realized I was signing until now. I'm tired and getting grumpy. I’m losing the slight grip that I had on myself and it’s only halfway through my first day. I rub my brow with a hand that has just not stopped shaking.

"I—uh—I honestly think you just told me off.” Declan laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Good for you, Cass. Sorry I was a jerk. I just want you to—Anyway. Okay, cafeteria it is then." Declan finally decides, and he guides me through the halls towards the lunchroom.

I’m not even mad that he’s taking me to the most crowded place on campus. I had told him off in a way, and he wasn’t even mad. He actually seemed really proud of me. Why did Declan have to be so confusing? How am I supposed to blend in with the masses if all I have to learn from are Declan’s wild reactions to what I do?

We push through the doors and I’m hit with the raging sound of happy students and the smell of way too much processed food. The cafeteria is so big that even with all three hundred students, it doesn't look really crowded.

However, like a gong has sounded, all eyes are on me and I freeze, looking over countless anonymous faces until I meet Iona’s sparkling eyes. She bounces up and hurries towards me, weaving around the tables with easy grace. "There you are!" She says. "Want to sit with us? Or want to go outside for a bit?"

The room is spacious, but too full. There are too many people here. However, if I leave now, the curiosity will not wear off and the sooner I am through that, the better.

On the other hand, if I seek refuge now, people might learn I like to be left alone and they will leave me alone.

It's an impossible decision.

"Declan!"

No. No, no. Not her. Please no.

"Lola." His voice is tense, I hear it immediately. Iona’s face looks as if she has eaten something sour momentarily before it smooths out into polite blandness.

"So, Cassia has finally decided to come to school with us?" She's smiling, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Her blond hair is pulled back tightly in a ponytail and as she bounces up to us, I wince at her proximity.

"Yes, she did. Now if you will excuse us…" Declan subtly steps forward, putting himself between Lola and the little group his twin and I make.

"Welcome to Willow Hills High, Cassia!" Lola says with her high, sharp voice.

Huh… what? What just happened? Why is she acting so…fake nice?

I don't hide my disbelieving look and from my peripheral vision, I see how Declan is looking from Lola to me. His gaze darkens and I know he’s figured out something happened in Spanish class.

"If you get fed up by the twins, feel free to join us." Lola then says, then she points at the table where she sits. "There's Brent too, and Cate. She's really nice, you know."

Yeah, whatever, Lola. Did you really think I would buy this shit? Do you really think I am stupid enough to go along with this? What is even happening?

"I think we're done here," Iona says flatly. "Come on, Cass, let's go get some fresh air outside. I’m allergic to bullshit."

Iona noticed I was panicking up. I didn't. Which is a terrifying realization. But as soon as I am outside and breathe in the crisp Autumn air, I notice that my heart is hammering, and my muscles are coiled.

"Relax, nothing happened. You’re okay Cassia, you’re okay. Breathe." Iona’s voice is soothing and drowning out the din of the cafeteria.

"I think Lola happened," Declan comments as he steps out of the building after us, his expression just shy of thunderous. "Let me guess, she wasn't as nice to you in Spanish?"

He's dead right and I look down, trying to hide my blush. I don't need them to know how people treat me. It isn't the first time and it won't be the last.

Iona mutters a curse under her breath and because I am looking down, I can see how Declan balls his hands into fists.

I step back immediately, alarmed to my core. Will they blame me for what just happened?

"She'll never stop," He spits, frustrated. His anger making him pace in a tight circle around his sister and I. "Was she very mean?"

No, maybe they won't blame mean then. I shrug and shake my head to answer him. Honestly, nothing really happened. I do know now she's a two-faced bitch and I need to be careful of her. Not that I wasn't, already.

But I'm wary of Declan’s hands and when he follows my gaze to where I am looking at so intently, he immediately relaxes, holding his hands op in an apologizing gesture. "I'm sorry, Cass. That's twice in ten minutes. I'm so sorry."

Iona narrows her eyes at him, but I can't look up to meet his gaze. I focus on the wet cobbles in front of me on the floor, counting them to distract myself from that deep, deep fear that was boiling up.

We stand in silence.

"Are you calm again?" Iona asks after a while. I nod. I’m as relaxed as I can be around them.

"I'm sorry." Declan says again, voice softly pleading. He wants me to look at him, but I frown and look away. I don’t know why I do this. Honestly, he hadn’t done anything more than scare me a little, why—why am I holding myself back from comforting him?

"How is the rest going?" Iona then asks, and I have the feeling she is trying to distract me. "Is it okay? How are the teachers, are they treating you normally?"

I nod, still surprised at how easy it all seems to have gone.

"And the other students?"

I nod again, although a lot slower. I really didn't form an opinion of them yet.

"You're not really in the mood to talk, are you?" Iona smiles, and although I understand her joke, I am too weary to acknowledge it.

She steps up closer to me then, and I look up at her in surprise. "Don't think I haven't noticed what you are doing today. Pushing everything away isn’t really fair, you know? You can’t stop yourself from feeling things, Cassia."

Somehow, I know she's referring to the way I keep dissociating my way out of everything. I am hyper aware of everything, but it all has to push through a sort of fog to register enough in my brain. But what she doesn’t realize is that if I don’t do this, I would have ended up a terrified pool of human within the first hour of being here.

I’m not strong.

I’ve come to the realization already.

I’m just pushing through at this point.

"You need to eat," Declan says softly on my other side, gently pushing Iona so she’s at a more comfortable distance. "Nick asked us to make sure that you eat."

I can't eat. I shake my head.

"Do you have the fluid food? Or do you want anything else? I can buy you something in the cafeteria." Declan offers. He’s not going to let it go. I still can’t look at him.

I shake my head. That's not necessary.

"You have to eat," Iona says pleadingly. "You can't go an entire day without food."

I shake my head with more vigor, eyes going wide now in fear. Don't make me eat. Please.

"It seems she can." Declan says dryly.

Iona shoots him some daggers. "Not helping."

Declan shrugs and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Remember when we had our first day here, Bug? I remember how you weren't able to eat because of your nerves."

Iona sighs. "But Cassia is too thin. She needs her strength."

"I think, at this moment, it helps her more to let things do her way. If she doesn't want to eat, she doesn't want to eat. It's such a struggle for her to do it at home already. Why make this harder on her?"

I'm standing right here, but alas I’m tiny enough that they’re holding the conversation over my head.

"Auntie is going to kill us." Iona mutters.

This gets my attention. I look up at Iona, surprised. If my not eating gets them into trouble, then I have to fix it.

To my left, Declan shrugs. "Auntie will live and let us live. She'll be happier to know that Cass got through her day." Then he turns to me. "Promise you'll eat when we get home?"

I nod, finally able to look up at him and I’m taken aback by his sincere eyes.

"I don't like it, Dec." Iona pouts.

"Tell Auntie to come to me then. Tell her I thought it was better to not force Cassia to eat."

Iona sighs, but finally gives in. Before I can stop myself, I breathe an exhale of relief. That honestly went a lot smoother than I thought it would. Although, a tiny part of me is fretting about how this will go over later at home.

"You okay?" Iona asks for the umpteenth time. "Not too cold?"

I shake my head. I'm good. They’re making me nervous with all this fussing.

"I’m gonna grab some food inside. I’m starving. Want something, Iona?" Declan glances over his shoulder as he steps back towards the cafeteria.

"Some yogurt and granola, please. Can I pay you back later? My wallet is in my locker. Oh! Can I get a cookie too?"

Declan rolls his eyes, smirking. "Sure."

He's gone then, and Iona and I are alone outside.

"You're doing great. And I mean that with all my heart." She says reassuringly. Then she produces her phone from her pocket and starts texting somebody. Josh, perhaps. Or Emmy, telling her I'm not willing to eat?

"Just telling Josh all is well here," She says smiling softly. "He was worried when we walked from the lunchroom."

Declan rounds the corner to where we are again, and to my surprise Josh is with him. Josh smiles when he meets my gaze.

They all stand around me again, and I feel suddenly very small.

They all look equally worried.

My heart races. This—This is all too much. I can’t handle how much attention is on me, I can’t handle how many people I have to fool into thinking I’m okay. It’s just too much. I’m not as okay as they think I am. I’m not strong.

I can’t breathe.

I’m not strong.

I can’t do it.

I can’t focus, my heart sounds like gunshots in my head, my own hands feel like claws as I brush them across my face. I’m sweating—or is this wetness tears?
They’re all relying on me and I can’t—

I can’t do it.

In my fragile state of mind, I do the only thing that will save me from a panic attack or breakdown.

I shut down completely.

I come to my senses again somewhere halfway through Biology. I blink my eyes a couple of times and stretch my back, stiff from having sat hunched over for so long. I glance at the clock and see we have twenty minutes left.

Such an easy way to get through the day.

"Are you back again?" Declan asks softly beside me.

I look at him, at his face that holds a mixture between worry, curiosity, amazement and fear.

"Are you… Are you aware again?"

I nod slowly, still hazy. I've been fully out, going through all the motions and registering everything, but not really processing it. But at the same time—I don’t remember how I got to class, or much of anything after lunch…

I’ve never dissociated that hard before.

I run a hand through my hair, and nod again, a little stronger this time even as I frown.

"That was scary. You were doing nothing out of the ordinary, but I just knew you weren't there." Declan’s voice sounds so emotional that my gaze flicks to him briefly. Those damn eyes of his are burning, as if he’s trying to see all the way inside me.

I look away, not knowing what to reply to this.

"Sorry you panicked though. Was it too crowded for you?" There’s a soft rustling, as he turns more towards me and sighs.

I look back at Declan, frustrated suddenly with my inability to explain myself.

"We'll figure it all out along the way," He whispers, smiling reassuringly. The burning in his eyes dims and within a moment he’s just smiling at me. "We want to help you."

I nod, acknowledging this. Still, I wonder if this ordeal would have been easier had I been alone.

Then I think how the James’ (and Josh) have guided and guarded me, and I have to admit, even to myself, that no, it would not have been easier had I been alone. They all have been truly wonderful, even if sometimes nosy and meddling. I will have to accept that they mean the best. They truly want to help, even though I can't for the life of me understand why.

Class goes by quickly, and afterwards Mr. Banner asks me if I have a moment so we can set up a schedule. After my initial panic attack last week, I am no longer afraid to be with this man. Besides, when he asks me if I have another class after this, he gives me the most marvelous way out. Ever.

So, I remain seated as the class lets out and wait for Mr. Banner to join me. We go over homework and I show him my planner, where I have jotted down everything Declan had, too. I also give Mr. Banner the big assignment I spent so much time on. The deadline has gone, of course, but the teacher still thanks me with a big smile and promises me he will grade the assignment for me. He praises me for my effort, and I look away, uncomfortable. His gaze lingers, almost as if he is seeing something in my face that I'd rather hide for the outside world to see.

Then he dismisses me, and I walk through the empty hallways until I reach the library where I hide out until the end of the hour. I almost laugh. Gym is awful and should always be missed.

I try not to think too much about where I will be heading after the hour is up though. Differentiating between excitement and panic is proving to be difficult for me and I find myself pacing the long rows of books, absently reading a title here and there. But my brain keeps going back to possibly the only source of happiness that school will bring me. I hope.

Violin studies.

I pause in my walk to stare down at my fingers. I haven’t practiced since that one afternoon I had alone. What if I’ve lost the ability to play? What if the teacher makes me play in front of everyone? Will I be able to do it?

I frown slightly. At my old school I had been able to play before the rest of the class without having to dissociate into my mind. I had been comfortable enough to join the mock concerts as well, but I never performed. Not once. With a school this small, I doubt I would be able to get away with just playing in a classroom setting. Hadn’t Mr. Greene mentioned a concert at the end of the school year that is a big deal for not only the school but for the city? Tapping my fingers together to get the blood flowing through them again, I can’t remember the details of the concert.

I could probably figure my way out of it. Or just…not show up like how I did in the past. No one ever notices the non-verbal girl with miniscule talent.
The bell rings over my head, making me sigh. I glance around to gage how to get back to my bag that I had left on a table and notice that I had wandered into the music section, specifically Chopin. My jaw tenses as the first few notes of Fantasie floats through my mind.

Now—today, actually—is not the time to be thinking about…her.

Stalking back through the books, I steel myself once more against the onslaught that I’m about to face back out in the hall. Sure enough, rowdy students are shoving and laughing their way through the crowd. It’s the last class of the day and the pent-up energy is unmistakable.

I keep to the very edge as to not get jostled, my left shoulder almost flush with the lockers as I try to navigate through without having a single person touch me. Without one of the twins with me, I’m forgettable, a tiny shadow fighting to get to class. A twist in my gut tells me that I do actually miss the companionship of Iona and Declan. If for nothing other than they made travelling these halls so much easier.

But if I’m being honest…I miss their chatter. Iona’s cheery confidence and Declan’s warmth. Even their worried glances.

This is all easier when I’m not alone.

That’s—That’s a new feeling.

I manage to find my way to the central atrium of the school, despite hardly paying attention to where I was stepping. Remembering my map from this morning I head down the hall second from the right, the Arts Wing. It certainly lives up to its name. Every available surface is covered in student paintings, photographs, and clear cases full of pottery, fashion mannequins, or other more abstract looking pieces.

The further I travel down the hall, the more the music motif shows and the more my anxiety kicks up. This wasn’t a good idea. I know that for certain now. Playing in secret at the James house is all I need. I don’t even deserve to be playing after what I’ve done. Right?

Right.

So why am I here? Why am I still reaching for the knob with a shaking hand?

The green door is almost menacing as I step up to it. Distantly, I hear the bell ring, but I don’t move an inch, my hand still reaching—

“Sooooooo, you gonna open the door, Shortie?”

I jump clear out of my skin and flinch away from the voice on my right. I hadn’t heard anyone step up next to me. Glancing over, I eye the tall girl that’s standing casually with a brow arched at me.

She’s almost as tall as Iona, and just as thin—thinner actually—this girl is a genuine stick, but something about her screams that she wouldn’t have any problem punching someone in the throat.

Especially as she leans around me, long blonde hair swinging around her shoulders despite being captured by a backwards hat, to open the door. “No one is gonna bite in here.” She says, voice surprisingly light. “Although, I have seen Mary threaten someone with her bow before, so, you know, anything could happen.”

She shrugs and holds the door open for me. I don’t move, still fighting the urge to run because I know that I don’t deserve this. Carefully, I fold my hands before me and look at the ground. Skipping another class won’t be too bad but explaining to Emmy why I have to switch out of my violin class will be a conversation that is fun for absolutely no one. I shuffle my feet.

But I want it.

“Come on. No more wasting time. Music doesn’t make itself. Chop, chop. I ain’t holding this door forever, Shortie.” The blonde says, beckoning with not just her hand, but a half smile that is a softer echo of the James crooked grin.

For some reason that gets me walking, at least through the doorway. The blonde strolls right past me and plops her entire long frame onto a couch that looks like it had its heyday back in the 80s. She throws and arm over her eyes and appears to fall asleep.

Must be nice.

The rest of the room is pretty empty, only about 10 chairs fill up the amphitheater type room, and the students are milling about with their instruments. The sounds of violins being tuned is a strange cacophony, but it relaxes me enough that I’m able to step further into the room.

My movement attracts the attention of a reedy looking man, with wire rim glasses, and a stunning shock of bright green hair. I’m still gapping at it when he strolls up to me. “You must be Cassia. I’ve heard so much about you already from Mr. Greene and your teacher back in LA—I hope you don’t mind that I contacted them. It’s not often that I have such a talented student join my class.” He stands with his hands on his hips, his smile almost too big for his face.

For some reason he reminds me of a golden retriever.

Hesitantly, I nod, finally able to drag my eyes away from his hair. It’s just so green.

“Awesome. Great! I’m excited to have you!” He claps his hands together and it makes me jump. Since Iona, I’m not sure anyone has been so excited to meet me. I’m not sure how to react. I shrug awkwardly and look back to the blonde on the couch. I would give anything to be her right now.

“Don’t worry about not being a chatterbox. We let the music speak for us in here, you know? Anyway, let me get the class through their warm ups and then we will fit you out for your temporary instrument and we’ll go from there. You can go sit next to the bum over there on the couch.” He turns away, with another golden smile but completes the 360 turn a moment later. “I’m Mr. Moore by the way—but most of my students just call me Phil. Feel free to address me however you want.”

I blink. Phil? Really? I feel like I stepped into the Twilight Zone at this point. Nothing seems to be as it should be.

But for some odd reason, I want to laugh.

Clamping my lips shut, I make my way over to the couch and perch on the arm rest. As far as I can be from the napping blonde.

At the front of the room, Mr. Moore—Phil—leads the class through warm up exercises. The sounds are lovely, and I have to admit that this tiny class is a hundred times better than the string class at my old school. I only hope that I can keep up. Looking at the pieces written on the board, I know that I have a challenge set out for me. A few I’ve only heard, never tried playing myself.

The knot of the uncertainty I felt standing outside makes itself known once more. This class is more advanced than I could ever hope to be. What happens if I can’t catch up? Will they kick me out? Will I fail? Will Emmy and Nick take my violin from me?

Oh man—

“Cassia, right?”

I startle so hard that I almost fall off of my perch. The blonde as sat up and is watching me with careful eyes.

“You’re kinda jumpy, you know? I’m Marissa. Nice to meet you. Tatiana, my girl, told me about you. Said you were quiet, but damn you’re given mice a run for their money, you know?”

My hands move from my heart back down into my lap and I shrug. This is not new information.

“Violin, eh? I’ve tried it out. Not my style, but I can tell that you’re passionate about it.”

I glance at Marissa from the corner of my eye. She could tell. How? Unintentionally, I arch a brow at her, and she takes that as a queue to continue her conversation.

“It’s the vibe you give off. Not sure how to describe it really. I’m not too good with words. I can tell things about people. That’s what makes me a good musician. According to Phil anyway. I’m a DJ though, I want people to feel happy and good all the time. Party and be free. You—You have that deep well of emotion in you. Quiet people usually do.” Marissa grinned, leaning towards me a bit, both her hands resting on her torn-to-shreds jeans. “That and you’ve got some crazy callouses on your left hand.”

A snort finds its way out of my nose.

“Ahhhhh! I gotcha. I knew I could make you smile.”

Immediately, my lips relax. I was smiling?

“I like you, Shortie. We’re gonna be buds.” Marissa grin grows and she relaxes back into the couch as Mr. Moore comes up to us.

Buds? She wants to be my friend? How did this happen?

He frowns down at her. “You should be practicing too, Marissa.”

“I’ll get to it. I’m not feeling the vibe today, you know?”

Mr. Moore sighs. I can tell this is a familiar argument between the two. “When the ‘Great Vibe’ comes to you, get your ass in the booth. I took you on as a student for a reason. Don’t make me fail you.”

Marissa plopped back down on the couch as she saluted him. “Roger, roger.”

Mr. Moore sighed again before turning to me. “Shall we, Cassia?”

Immediately, I stand, quiet excitement flowing through my veins. For a moment I even feel a little confident. This is something I know, just like calculus, or biology. Easy as breathing.

But what if I’m not good enough?

My stomach twists as Mr. Moore leads me to the back of the room, where there are several soundproof booths with windows to observe the goings on inside. I peek in and am surprised to see that each room is set up with recording equipment as well. Impressive.

“My students have free reign of the booths and recording equipment. Many of them use it when college application season comes around. Or just for fun. I know that Marissa, Joanie, and Derrick use them to create EPs to upload into the world. Feel free to do the same. Just let me know and I’ll book you a room.” Mr. Moore noticed my curiosity.

He’s digging through a storage room, and a few violin cases appear as he pulls them out. He peeks at me and back to his stash. “You’re pretty small, so I’m thinking this size should do.”

I take the case carefully. I can already tell that the instrument inside is in absolute perfect condition. I almost don’t want to touch it with my grubby fingers.
“Do you have one at home?” He asks as he closes the storage room. I nod, hugging the case to my chest.

“Awesome! Your first homework assignment is completed then. From now on I’d like you to bring your one from home to school with you. Mainly because it’s the one you are used to using and you’ll be more comfortable with it. These extra ones I have laying around are crap.” Mr. Moore flicks the case I’m holding with a long skinny finger.

Wait until you see the one I have at home.

I purse my lips awkwardly thinking how he will react to the scratched and dented woodwork mess that I adore.

Not as smiley as he is now, that’s for damn sure.

Mr. Moore pushes a breath out of his mouth, probably just now realizing how quiet I really am. “Alrighty! Let’s see what you got. Back to the chairs, if you would, Miss Cassia?”

Wait—play in front of everyone?

Dread pools in my gut. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.

My fears are confirmed as Mr. Moore pulls two chairs apart from the rest of the class and sits attentively in one. Everyone has turned to look at us—even Marissa seems to have perked up from her nap. I stand next to the chair offered to me, looking everywhere but the teacher, the chair, the violin in my hands, and the curious eyes that are now pointed so fiercely in my direction that I can practically feel them all burning holes in my skin.

I can’t do this.

I shift on my feet frowning. How can I get out of this? If I shut down, then autopilot Cassia can take over for me. Probably butcher my performance, but at least I don’t have to be present for it. That safety neck seems so far out of my reach right now though. No matter how hard I try, I can’t pull myself away into the safety of my mind. There are too many eyes on me. The violin case too real in my hands.

How is it possible to want something so bad, but also be so terrified of it? I’m so mad at myself right now. At the panic building in my chest, the numbness in my legs, the stiffness of my fingers and they grip the case ever tighter. Why can’t I just be like everyone else? This is why I don’t deserve this gift. Because I’m not brave. I’m not strong.

Maybe if I pass out, I can get out of this.

But then Emmy and Nick will hear about it…and they both wished me good luck on my first day.

“Cassia?” Mr. Moore’s voice shatters the din in my mind. “When you’re ready…Deep breath and relax okay? It’s just practice. You’re allowed to mess up.”
I sit, actually its more like a fall into the chair, and my fingers start fumbling with the case until I’m holding a beautifully glossy instrument in my hands. He thinks this is crap? This is something the James’ would put on their wall as art.

Quickly and as quietly as I can, I tune the violin. My fingers wont stop shaking and now the room had quieted from students practicing to a stunning silence. Mr. Moore waits patiently, an unbelievably, the man is still smiling.

Positioning the bow, I freeze. Every single piece I have ever learned—even Hot Cross Buns—has exited my brain. Complete exodus. I stare down at the floor in horror. This is going awfully and now I don’t even know how to fix it. Maybe I can just make something up on the fly. A few notes trickle their way through the panic, and I figure that maybe, just maybe, they could work. It’s simple, but they all just want to know that I can play right?

Easy.

Except, the screech that sounds from the strings as I pull on the bow is enough to make everyone in the entire room flinch.

Oh. My. God.

This can’t be happening. My breathing speeds as I drop the instrument into my lap. What have I done?

Mr. Moore is standing, approaching me, and finally I am able to reach that dissociative fog. I can just check out now, but Marissa’s voice breaks through the murmurs of the students and what ever Mr. Moore was about to say.

“Maybe she could try out one of the booths, ay? That way the masses aren't gawking at her?”

“Not a bad idea. What do you think, Cassia? I know the first time in front of a new crowd can be a little rough.” Mr. Moore gently scoops up the violin and leads me over to a brightly lit booth.

The fog is evading me again and at this point I’m praying for an asteroid to hit the school so I can just go home.

“Alright. I will shut you in, but when I turn this on,” He points to a complicated looking speaker. “I’ll be able to hear you from outside this room. No one will be able to see you once the door is shut, the glass goes opaque when the equipment is on to prevent outside interruption. Will this help?”

I’m stunned. That sounds wonderful actually. I nod as I slowly take the available seat. Yes, yes I think this will help.

“Awesome! Okay, let’s try some Bach? That way you don’t panic over what to play.” And with that Mr. Moore strides out the door and closes me in.

It’s dead silent in here and I think for the first time all day, I relax completely. Idly, I wonder if I can stay in here forever. It would be really nice that’s for sure.

I sigh once, twice, and then a third time and assume my playing position. This time the music flows straight from my mind into the violin with the ease that I remember. The pressure is gone, I could be playing for myself and not know any different. It truly is a wonderful feeling.

And as I play Air on The G String, I can feel my careless smile.

---

The rest of my music class passed without incident. Thank god. Mr. Moore was ecstatic with my skill and gave me a stack of music sheets to look through and practice on when I had the time. A brief skim gave my heart a little joyous flutter and I had to duck my head to hide another smile.

Maybe, I had figured, maybe I could do it.

Marissa had stuck herself firmly by my side for the rest of the class, keeping up a constant stream of commentary on the goings on of Violin Studies 1A. It was difficult to keep up my stoicism, but I managed. I could tell that the blonde wasn’t fooled though.

I met Declan, Iona and Josh in the parking lot after the final bell rings. We all pile in Declan’s Camaro, I sit with Iona in the back while the boys sit up front, discussing something about football so earnestly that their voices drown out any hope for music. I'm quiet, although they ask me about my day ever few minutes. I am beyond exhausted — this day has been much more draining than I was already afraid it would be.

Thankfully, the subject switches from football as Iona complains quite epically about it. Each goes on about their day, and more than once Lola’s name is mentioned. I look out the window and hold myself together with my arms wrapped around my midsection. I really, really would like some time alone soon. The lingering notes from music class drift through me like a balm, but it does little to quell the anxiety of having to do it all again tomorrow.

When we arrive at home, the others go to the kitchen immediately to get something to drink and a snack. Emmy comes up to me, beaming but worried, “How was your day, Sweetheart?”

I don't want to talk. Nap, possibly. Could that be done? I used to sleep after school with William.

"You look positively drained," Emmy says, concerned, before I can think to respond to her question. "Why don't you take a nap in your room if you want to? I've never seen you look so tired."

Again, I can't believe my luck.

"You have to eat something." Iona says meaningfully, and at this moment, I don't like her.

Actually, that’s a lie. I like her always, but right now I’m so grumpy that I consider glaring at her.

I don’t, but still.

"That can wait," Emmy says. "I think some rest is more important now."

"But," Iona starts, but is stopped by Declan, unseen by Emmy.

"Go to bed," Emmy says. "I'll wake you in a couple hours."

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I go upstairs, lock my door and collapse on my bed.

I hope to God Emmy won't learn I have skipped Gym. I had an excuse from another teacher, but the issue still stands…

I won't do it. I can't.

I wish I had the guts to tell her, though.

Especially about how much I enjoyed my music class.

("I think we're done here," Iona says flatly. "Come on, Cass, let's go get some fresh air outside. I’m allergic to bullshit.")

(Don't I just love Iona sometimes.)