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

Started November 30, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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This is like my comfort place ;;
I run over here and read your posts whenever I'm feeling down qwq
Thank you for posting!

It's okay! I'm a patient child :3c

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.