"He's a breath of fresh air. The happiness to my sadness. The calm to my anxiety. He's an equal and opposite force, blocking me from the course of self-hatred I've been hurdling down my entire life."
◊ ◊ ◊
Mikaela Martin is almost certain quarterbac...
I wake up to two texts from Sarah. The first is a gif of a cat yawning and falling out of bed, which I think is my spirit animal, and the second is an invitation to hang out after school because swim practice is cancelled. I tell her that I'd love to, and a wave of relief washes over me, quickly followed by guilt. Plans with Sarah means I have an excuse not to hang out with Peyton.
Nothing beyond kissing happened yesterday, but somehow, it felt wrong. I have no idea why. Peyton put his arm around me between sessions, and we joked and laughed like we usually do, but it didn't feel like us, even though it was. I don't know what's going on with my brain.
Sarah can probably diagnose it. She wants to be a counselor someday, and she just sent in her tuition deposit to Boston College, where she plans to study psychology and maybe sociology as well. I'm lucky to have her as a friend.
She's at my locker first thing in the morning, her normally composed face twisted in panic. "I forgot to buy my dad a birthday present, and it's too late for Amazon," she whispers, as if her dad, who works on the other side of town, is in danger of hearing her confession in the RHS hallways.
"Want to go shopping after school?" I offer. I haven't started Christmas shopping yet because that means choosing something for my maybe-boyfriend. I was planning on doing everything online because this isn't the Dark Ages, but maybe I'll avoid a mental breakdown if I have a friend by my side.
"Do you mind?" she exclaims.
"No, I need stuff too. I'll drive us," I assure her, somewhat proud of myself for being the one who's doing the calming in the Sarah Singh-Mikaela Martin friendship. This is definitely a first.
"You're my hero," she sighs.
Before I can answer, Annalise arrives. I do a double-take. Her locker is in a different hallway, and she isn't a morning person, so she tries to make as few stops as possible before first period. I rarely see her pre-English. "Ready for class with Moby?" she asks, grimacing.
Aunt Elaina's nickname caught on among my friends, though Sarah only uses it in texts. I should exercise that same restraint, but I've been too fed up with school and the universe to put much effort into my filter since Monday.
"I'm never ready, but let's go," I grumble.
"Did I hear you guys were going shopping?" Annalise asks.
"Yup," Sarah confirms as we embark on the journey to first period. "Want to—"
"Can one of you guys pick up a harpoon for me? I'll pay you back."
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I hear the boots clacking across the lunchroom floor before the voice slithers its way into my ears, which is surprising, because the voice is very, very loud. "Mikaela! How is Peyton doing?" Liana Hayward squeals as if we're best friends and she isn't the bitch who almost made me cry at fall formal.
