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

Started November 30, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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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.

It’s some time after dinner and after I’ve retreated to my room for the night when my phone buzzes next to me. I’ve been studying the intricacies of genealogy, so the sudden sound makes me jump.

I think about ignoring it, but a glance at the time makes me reconsider. It’s been hours since I looked up from my textbook. I need a break.

My phone buzzes again, almost as if telling me I actually should be done for the night. Sighing, I close my supplies and shove them back into the corner of my desk. The movement knocks over my growing collection of paper cranes and I take a moment to right each one just so they stand straight and at attention, my fingers tracing the shape of the biggest one carefully.

A third buzz.

Alright. Alright.

I collect my phone and plop into bed, tucking the covers about me. Releasing a content sigh, I look to see who is trying to get my attention.

It’s Declan.

Hey!

How are you? How did you like your first (second?) day at school? We didn’t get to talk much in the car.

Already looking forward to the holidays?

I blink a few times. Unsure how to respond. But he wants to chat and I’m not tired enough to sleep yet…

My fingers make the decision for me.

I'm ok. School was ok, too. Just no fun to start at a new place.

His response is lightning fast.

Yeah, I can understand that. You handled it well though.

I frown. This is not true, and he knows it. Why would he say that? He witnessed me turn into a living vegetable for crying out loud.

You think?

Why did I ask that?

Again, I only have a single moment to blink before his response comes through.

Yes. I do.

Did you expect differently?

That’s a fantastic question because yes, I did expect so much differently. I still don’t know how to handle any of this confidence in me. Especially since I have none for myself.

I don't know.

He’s typing before I even move my finger away from the send arrow. The grey bubble flicking up and down as Declan is obviously debating what to say next. It makes me almost anxious.

I think you do know. Talk to me, Cass.

Nope. This is dangerous ground. I think I just walked myself into a trap. How the hell does he do that? What is it about Declan that always gets me to say exactly what I don’t want to?

I frown, suddenly feeling defensive.

I really don't know, Declan. Everything can happen when you start in a new place. There are always people who think they should be nice and people who are nasty.
I press my phone against my chest. Prepared to not respond to him anymore for tonight, but the second my phone buzzes, I flick it up to glare at the screen.

His response it not what I expected at all.

I think I can guess the ones you like best then. ;D
He’s…making a joke? I almost smirk.

Almost.

I can’t even admit to myself that I am indeed smirking.

Yeah. The ones that ignore me.

From down the hall, in the direction of Declan’s room, I hear a deep rumble that is quickly muffled. My smirk grows ever so slightly.

I'm sorry I laughed, it's not even funny. You really feel better when left alone, don't you?

That knocks my smile away. Being alone is just better for someone like me.

I really do. I'm not good company, anyway.

It must be the late hour. I realize my slip after I have tapped the send arrow. Ah, crap.

I beg to differ. I think you are excellent company.

I want to ask why. I really do. But even though I type it out, I can’t press send.

Instead I type out something that I should have said to him ages ago.

I'm not. I'm not good. You really don't want me as a friend.

Declan’s response takes time; the grey bubble teasing me. This is it, when he finally realizes that I’m not something he wants or needs in his life. He deserves nothing but the warmth the rest of his family gives him. Not…not me. I don’t even know how to be friends with someone. A sharp pain grows in my breastbone and the air grows tight around me.

God this is an awful conversation.

Why, Cassia? How can you think you are not good company? You're witty and smart as hell. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so kind and selfless. Not to mention patient enough to deal with Iona long enough to teach her calculus.

Why would somebody not want you as a friend?

I sigh, throwing an arm over my eyes, despite the pain in my chest making itself home with a few friends. Why is he fighting me on this?

You don't know me, Declan.

Because in truth, he really doesn’t. None of them do. And I won’t—can’t—let them in. I don’t know how. Or if I can trust that they wont run once they see how rotten I am on the inside.

That's why I want to get to know you. Hey, since we're both still awake, why don't we sit outside on the porch for a bit? I can make tea?

I stare at the screen until my eyes water. My heart is squeezing so tight I almost feel dizzy. I rub at my face, ignoring the wetness.

It's late. We should really go to bed.

Why I am crying is beyond me. Declan was never going to be a friend. I may have come to want it, may have come to like his company, but it really is best to end it before it goes too far.

I will never be good enough.

There is nothing I can do about that.

---

Tuesday in school is much the same. There are fewer staring gazes, I'm already becoming less of a novelty. Everybody knows by now I do not speak, and I can hear the rumors around as not all students try to not be overheard by me.

As I expected, the stories as to what causes my muteness vary. It was the same in Los Angeles. Some think I am 'retarded' and wonder why Willow Hills High would take on a special student. Some think I must be deaf or something along those lines. Some think my vocal cords were surgically removed.

I hear one girl whisper she heard somebody else saying I don't have a tongue. The urge to stick it out at her is overwhelming, but I keep my head down and try to ignore her.

I must award them for their creativity, though. My classmates in Los Angeles never had the brains to really think deeply about it. Instead, most just mocked me behind my back. Or to my face if they were feeling particularly bold.

I think it will get worse if they ever find out I am an elective mute, as it is called so nicely in clinical terms. I think I should be able to speak, even though I haven't done so in ten years. I can scream just fine, much to my bitter disappointment. I was hoping that if I had stopped using it entirely, my voice would just vanish, never to return.

I still blush when I think back at that night, and the memory is always followed by the memory of Emmy hugging me. The way I lay curled on her lap… It had been overwhelming. I would like to do it again, but I would never ask for it. I don't deserve it, and why would I think she wants to comfort me like that. Besides, I'm nearly adult. Adults don't curl up on laps.

Declan keeps his distance, and when he catches my gaze, he looks confused, worried. Disappointed? The James’ still go out of their way to make sure I am not alone, that I don't have to walk the hallways on my own and that I get to every class. Well, every class but one. I skip Gym again.

I know it's a matter of time before anyone finds out. I am already bracing myself for that moment, but I'm willing to pay that price. I won't go to Gym, and there is no amount of pain or punishment that will stop me from that.

In Government I see Tatiana again, and she meets me with a smile and a greeting. She tells me of the plans the group has to go to Ontario Beach that weekend. She explains that Ontario Beach is the closest thing kids around can get to the actual ocean despite it being a lake. The park is a perfect place to hang out and barbeque. I think I heard Declan mention that once. His friends like to hang out there as well.

When Tatiana asks me if I want to come, I shake my head no.

"That's okay," She says, but I can sense her disappointment. "Maybe some other time?"

I frown and look away, unable to answer. Of course I would love to go to the lake and enjoy the sunshine that was promised this weekend, but with all those people around and the fact that I’d have to convince one of the twins to come with me… I just can’t do it.

Honestly, I’m surprised I even want to go.

We focus on the teacher for the rest of class and I am relieved when Tatiana doesn't speak to me again. The silence is an easy one, however, and I can allow myself to relax slightly in class.

I'm not as withdrawn as the first day, letting more of the outer world register. It's scary, but however tempting it is to pull back fully, it also drains me. Ironic how it seems to cost a tremendous amount of energy to reach a calm place in my mind.

After class, the happy go lucky guy from yesterday, Wyn Ton, bounces up to me before Declan has appeared to pick me up.

"Hi, Cassia! I was wondering… We're going to Ontario Beach this weekend — want to come?"

I blink, then shake my head.

"I already asked her." Tatiana says softly behind me.

Wyn looks from me to her, then back to me. "Why not? It will be fun. You can watch me surf!" He smiles, mimicking the funky stance of a surfer.

"She can watch you crash off the board into the water. You can never stand up all the way, Wyn." Another voice says playfully mocking. I recognize the blond guy I've seen in Biology. Where did he come from?

"Hi, Cassia? Is it? I haven't had a chance to introduce myself before. I'm Brent, Brent Zeller." He leans against the lockers next to me, almost looming.

I look at Brent, vaguely registering I met his mother in the supermarket some weeks ago. He’s remarkably average, slightly baby faced, blue eyes cold and watery, although most girls my age would see him as attractive. He's cocky, arrogant. Looking down at me, taking me in. I don't like him. I look away, uncomfortable, and my gaze falls on his outstretched hand.

Well, no elegant way to solve this than to just refuse, I guess. His hand lingers in the air, before he pulls it back, confused. The silence is beyond awkward.

"I can surf." Wyn mumbles, apparently unaware of what just happened.

"Sure you can," Brent snorts. "In your dreams."

"Like you're any better." Wyn says, annoyed. He crosses his arms as an angry flush appears to creep over his fine cheekbones.

I would rather be on the moon that stuck in this suffocating testosterone. To hell with it, I’ll see Declan later.

Brent laughs, just as I go to turn away, a cocky sound that makes the air grossly sticky. "I never said that. I know where my skills lie." He says meaningfully, catching my gaze again.

Oh God.

Oh God.

Out. I need out.

Air. There's not enough air.

"Cass?"

It's Declan and he's my savior right now. Without another word, holds his hand out to me and I bolt towards him, leaving Tatiana, Brent and Wyn behind. He doesn’t say a word, but he pauses a step or two away to glance over his shoulder at the little group I had been standing in. I’m not sure what Declan is doing, but I see his hand clench out of the corner of my eye.

He then guides me outside, not speaking and not turning around to even see if I am following. It's this steady support I need right now, and I fleetingly wonder how he knows.

It's cold outside. A light rain is falling, the kind that soaks you through without you noticing it. Declan doesn't seem bothered by the wet and takes me to a quiet corner, hidden from the rest of the school.

"Breathe," He says lowly. "Steady, now. Focus on deep breaths. Hold your breath for a moment if it's going too fast still."

Through the ringing in my ears I can hear his voice and I do as he says, holding the wall for support as now finally the full panic seems to hit.

Declan is quiet, sending a text as I breathe deeply, concentrating on my heartbeat. Slowly, I calm down again.

"I'm sorry I was late," He says, shoving the phone back in his pocket. "I go held up going over some test questions. It won’t happen again. I was hoping to prevent things like this…but–" Declan cuts himself off and waves a hand towards me vaguely.

As if that explains anything.

I look up at him and see he’s genuinely worried. But what things? What is he talking about?

I guess he notices my confusion because he elaborates after pushing a breath out of his chest forcefully and looking away. Declan drags a hand through his hair and across his face, and I notice there is a bit of pink across his nose. A sunburn? "You're bound to get attention. You're—you know….” He stares at me hard for a moment and then blinks in surprise. “You’re new, and you're interesting. I know you don't like it. Fucking Brent Zeller… God, I want to punch him."

This time I’m the one blinking in surprise.

"He's a pompous ass. Ignore him if you can. If he comes on to you again, let me know. I've been wanting an excuse to put him in his place."

Hearing Declan wanting to punch someone’s lights out is definitely surprising, but there is no fear in me as he says it. No fear to match the absence of violence in his tone.

I pull my phone from my pocket.

Why are you so nice to me?

Declan leans forward to read what I’ve said. He purses his lips, but when he looks up at me again his eyes soften into a smile. "We’ve talked about this, Cass.” He says. "You're a nice girl, and you deserve some kindness in your life…I’ll protect you."

(The sunburn comment made me laugh so hard. I'm like "Cassia. Honey." And poor Dec is all "Please just let me tell her she's CUTE.")

(She is innocent baby)

(I definitely do not curl up with my mom any chance I get.)

Luckyyyyy.

In Trig, Iona is very worried about me. I can see her looking at me again and again, but the teacher calls her to attention and keeps a close eye on her. I can see her frustration and finally I slyly send her a text that I am okay now, that Declan helped me. She reads, then sighs happily and smiles. From where I am, I can see how her shoulders relax.

Lola looks around at me and smiles, but it's more a sneer than anything. I don't know what she wants to achieve. I can't read her, apart from the obvious ominous vibe I am getting from her. I don’t understand why she wants to target me so. Would it be because I didn’t speak with her in the kitchen that one day?

But—I don’t speak to anyone?

I shake my head to myself, baffled.

Lola and Cate are on full bitch mode in Spanish. I make a point to ignore them as they whisper loudly. I am sure that come lunch, or come Declan, they'll be pissing rainbows again.

As expected, Declan is waiting casually against the wall of lockers for me at the end of Spanish, pointedly ignoring Lola and Cate as I avoid making eye contact with him.

“I’ll protect you.”

Yeesh. What does that even mean? A faint burning tickles my face and all the way down to the tight ball of nerves around my heart, easing it just a little. I’m not sure why.

He walks slowly, letting the more rowdy and loud students pass us on the way to the cafeteria. It's obvious he has something on his mind.

Which I guess is connected to the texts we exchanged yesterday.

I sigh softly and look at my fidgeting hands.

"I disagree, you know." Declan says softly once the hall is mostly empty and the thrum of other students has died away.

I don't look up. He knows I heard him.

"I think you are good company. And I do want to get to know you. It’s important to me."

My mind is a muck. I wring my hands, uncomfortable. Not with his presence, but with his persistence. I don't know how to warn him away when he doesn't listen. I don't want him to know of my past, either. I don’t know what to do other than to scare him so badly that not only will he run; he’ll never speak to me again. The thought makes it feel like my entire form is about to cave in.

When did I start relying on him so much?

"Look at me," He says softly, and the contrast in his voice is so big I do look up at him. His eyes are clear, sincere, but worried. "Why don't you let me decide for myself?"

I can't, Declan. I don't want you to know. My head shakes on its own. A miniscule little movement that decides so much for this budding relationship I’m terrified of.

He sighs, seemingly understanding that this conversation is not getting anywhere.

"Can I at least take you to and from your classes still?" The question is so quiet and hopeful that after a long moment I nod.

Declan walks me to the exit of the school, but when we reach the door, we see it's raining buckets. We can't go out in this weather, there's nowhere to take cover.

"I'm thinking you don't want to sit in my car?" He asks on an embarrassed grin, as if the sudden weather shift is something he should have known about in advance, and I shake my head, no. "Then I think we'll have to go to the lunchroom. Are you okay with that?"

I wish I could have put that off longer, but I guess I have to go there sometime. It's not allowed to hang in the hallways during lunch. Both of us heave a great sigh as we stroll back through the building. Rounding the corner to the cafeteria, the rush of voices gets louder with each step. I tense up further with every foot closer to the entrance, but I brace myself.

"You okay?" He asks as we reach the double doors.

I nod, not looking at him.

Declan stops just before we enter the crowded room. "I'm here for you, Cassia. I want you to know that. I am not going anywhere until you tell me to stay away. And—and even then, I'm here if you need me."

His words make me look up at him, and I can see the compassion in his face. The pink tint across his nose had appeared again, stretching all the way to his ears. Declan really isn't going away unless I tell him to. Although this makes a part of me happy, another part is pissed that he is giving me this choice. He is letting me make the decision.

I think he knows I won't tell him directly to leave me alone. He knows that deep down, I don't want that.

I'll have to warn him, though. Again, and again and again. I have to be clearer with him until he realizes the truth. Because in time, when he does get to know me better, and he will because I do share a house with him after all, he'll learn that it is indeed better to stay away from me.

It's up to me then to make sure I won't get hurt when he finally steps back.

But right now, the noise in the cafeteria is overwhelming and demanding every ounce of concentration I have. I take a deep breath and step into the full room.

Declan walks ahead of me towards the table where the others are sitting. Josh and Iona. Tatiana is there, too, cuddled into the embrace of a smirking Marissa. I see Wyn Yorkie, and a boy next on the other side of Tatiana I don't know.

Iona beams at me when I approach them, and Wyn jumps up to pull two extra chairs to the table.

"Is it raining too hard?" Marissa asks, munching on a sandwich.

Josh guffaws. "Scared your hair got messed up, Declan?"

"Scared Cassia will catch a cold. She didn’t bring her coat idiot." He replies as he sits down, beckoning me to have a seat too.

This is a huge step for me. Can I sit with them? There are a lot of people around, their voices creating a wave of noise in my head that is hard to drown out. I have to grit my teeth against it. I can feel so many eyes on me, almost if they are all daring me to sit, knowing that I won’t.

I walk up to the empty chair between Iona and Marissa, standing behind it and gripping the back for support.

"You okay?" Tatiana asks.

I swallow, then nod. The pairs of eyes right in front of me are kind and hopeful. It would be a shame to disappoint them all. Would they be very upset with me?

"Have a seat, Cassia." Josh says softly. "Do you want to eat? Drink?"

I shake my head.

"I'm getting some lunch," Declan announces. “Anyone else want anything?"

He takes some orders with a exasperate grumble and disappears.

"Sit down, Cassia." Iona says so softly only I can hear it. "You can do it. We're here."

I nod, more to myself than anything else, and resolutely take a seat.

From my peripheral vision, I see Wyn staring at me, until Marissa swats his arm. He blinks, then looks away.

He'll think I'm weird.

Which I am. But it doesn’t hurt any less.

It’s good though, he'll stay away. Which is what I want.

Wanted.

Want?

I wring my hands together. Why is this suddenly do difficult to decide?

To my left, Josh stretches, his huge arms reaching above his head. "I wish the rain would stop. I wanted to play football later."

"You have to do Calc." Iona says. She’s carefully sorting through a pile of chips before selecting one and popping it into her mouth.

Josh glares at her and to see him looking at her like that alarms me enormously. Iona, however, stays calm.

"No need to look like that. You know I'm right."

"Whatever, Bug. I'm working out first annnnnnd I’m dragging Declan with me."

She shrugs and looks away. I guess this is not the first time they have had a chat like this. But Iona was not at all impressed by Josh’s look. She's not afraid of him, in any way. I remember when we made the lasagna a couple nights ago and he swatted her playfully on the butt. She didn't even flinch then. Instead she laughed as tossed a zucchini at his head.

I had flinched when William had done the same thing. I still have a scar he gave me as punishment to show for it.

A shiver passes through me. Christ. What a thing to think about right now.

"Cassia?" Tatiana asks.

I look over the table at her. Tucked into Marissa, she has a lovely smile on her sweet face. She's actually very pretty, and her glasses only seem to enhance her beauty.

"Ehm, this is Chris. My brother. Think of him as the third dumby of the Trio of Dumbys." She says about the guy sitting next to her. "He wants to introduce himself but didn't know how, so I'm doing it for him. So, Cassia, Chris, Chris, Cassia."

I nod, but realize I'm frowning. It's still so confusing to me why people would want to introduce themselves to me.

Chris smiles and waves a bit. "Heya."

We both stare awkwardly at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do now. He has a similar air about him that Declan and Josh do and I assume that the three of them make up ‘The Trio of Dumbys’. Must be a sports thing, because Chris is almost as big as Josh is.

Chris coughs into a hand that is the same silky mocha color as his sister and continues to grin at me. “I—uh—nice to—"

"So, Cassia, do you really not want to come Saturday?" Wyn asks, bulldozing over Chris in his need to ask me his question. Chris doesn’t seem to mind and launches seamlessly into a conversation with Josh.

"Where are you going?" Declan asks as he comes back with a tray of food. He places it on the table as the others pick out what they had ordered.

Wyn looks slightly annoyed, it seems, by Declan's question. "We're going to Ontario Beach." He says flatly.

"Ah," Declan replies. Then he turns to me. "Do you want to go?"

I shake my head at him. Too many people. I just don't want to go. Besides, it'll be cold. And I don't like the cold or the wet.

"We can go there some other time," Iona says softly on my other side. "It's really very pretty there. Auntie will sometimes paint down there while the rest of us swim or just hang out. Once it warms up, it’s super fun. "

"Such a shame," Wyn says, unaware of Iona whispering to me. Or ignoring it, which is very well possible, too. For a journalist he's surprisingly unobservant. I've yet to figure out if he chooses to be when it comes to certain things. "It really could be fun. And you could get to know us better.”

"Like you'd talk about anything other than yourself." Marissa mutters under her breath, and I look down to hide my smile. Tatiana doesn’t hold back her grin nor her laugh.

I look back up at Wyn and shake my head again.

"You sure you don't need to eat anything? I could take you somewhere." Iona whispers then.

I shake my head at her, again. No need to. I'm used to go without food for longer periods of time. So far, it's going okay at school. I don't want to willfully add the stress of making myself eat here.

Finally, some conversation picks up around me and I can sit back tentatively, listening to the others as they talk about Ontario Beach. Josh contemplates going, but only if Iona will come, and if he’s not playing in the Saturday game. Iona had plans to go shopping with Tatiana that Saturday, so she's not sure. Declan has a game on Saturday so he can't, along with Chris. Marissa downright refuses without giving a reason.

Wyn is not happy that no one wants to join in on his fun and the group relentlessly teases him about it. I hear them saying that Brent, Lola and Cate are going, too. And somebody named Tyler, whom I haven't seen yet.

We sit through the rest of lunch. I pretend to not notice the stares of other students as I sit in the cafeteria, Declan and Iona like sentinels around me.

The others are quite relaxed, I notice. They banter for a bit, and I'm happy to notice that none of the James’ seems overly worried around me now. I'm not bombarded with questions of concern and I do hope they realize it really is easier for me if I don't constantly have to lie through my teeth that I am okay.

I mean, they can tell I am not, so why bother?

Although, I realize slowly, I am enjoying myself siting here with them.

After lunch, I walk with Declan to Biology. We're early and sit down at our table before the rest of the class comes in. Brent, as it turns out, is right behind us and comes up to our table as the rest of the students slowly enter the class. He leans on the table and I push my seat back to create some space between us. I easily disguise it as needing room to lean down into my bag.

"Are you sure that you don't want to come Saturday? I'm pretty sure we'd have a great time. You don't have to surf, you know. We could walk along the beach?"

I tense up, unable to look away from him. Never look away from danger. They prey on the weak.

"Christ alive. How many times does she have to say no, Brent?" Declan asks beside me.

Brent shifts his gaze to Declan, annoyed. "I don't think I was talking to you."

"You are now. Cassia doesn't want to come. She said no. Time to drop it."

"And that's up to you to decide?"

"It was her decision. Clear as day," Declan shrugs. "Apparently you are too stupid to get that."

Brent glares at Declan and I tense up further. Mr. Banner asks the class to attention however and Brent has to leave our table to get into his own seat.

"Asshat." Declan mutters, looking annoyed.

I look at him, still alarmed. I don't want him to get into any trouble because of me. He doesn't have to do this for me — I can take care of myself. If not, then still I don't see the problem, really.

Declan looks at me, his gaze searching, but he doesn't speak. Then he looks front again and doesn't say anything anymore through the entire class.

For the first time, the silence between us is awkward.

But for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

~O~

I make up a shit excuse after class that I want to ask Mr. Banner something. Declan is distracted and leaves, asking if I'll be all right as he has to go to Spanish. He's in a hurry, and I wonder if he has been warned for being too late several times already.

I hide out in the library again when I should be having Gym. I have hidden the slip I needed to have signed by every teacher in my closet at home. I'll just wait until somebody asks me for it, and then I hope I can pull off the lie that I lost it.

Because there is no way I could have the Gym teacher sign the thing.

I make a start on the extra homework I have been asked to do for Spanish, feeling good to be studying again. It holds such comfort for me, it's almost exhilarating.

In violin studies, Marissa chatters my ear off about music as I practice my scales. Mr. Moore allows me to sit in the back of the class with her, as he noticed that being in the front with the group makes my playing downright awful.

What he doesn’t know is that I did it on purpose hoping that he would let me do my lessons in the booths again, but no dice. Besides, sitting up her with Marissa is rather enjoyable. Her knowledge of music is expansive and incredible. From classical to modern, from popular to obscure, she knows it all.

I find myself listening to her more and more as she talks, nodding along to her musings and offhand remarks.

Once she notices the books and pieces I’ve chosen to study, she makes a few suggestions of her own. I leave the class feeling good and armed with an entire selection of artists to listen to.

Just after the bell rings, I make my way to the parking lot and seek out Declan's camaro.

I put my sweater hood up against the rain that is still falling. It’s not quite cold outside, even with the rain pattering on my face and hood. I didn’t even need the coat that I had left at home. Actually, I feel the last dregs of tension leave me as I stand against the side of the car. Who knew rain was so relaxing?

It's not long before the twins come out of the school, walking quickly towards the car. Declan opens the door from quite some distance so I can crawl in, and I do. It's really nice of him to do that for me.

When we arrive home, I again tell Emmy my day was okay, because it was in all honesty. If she’s surprised that I’m telling the truth this time, she doesn’t show it. Emmy asks me if I want to nap again and I am grateful for her understanding. School in itself is not bad, but the other people are.

I lie down on my bed, but it takes me quite some time to fall asleep, as Declan and his strange silence is wreaking havoc in my head.

I warned him to stay away.

I guess he finally listened.

It hurts me more than I thought it would.