"wouldn't you like to know her?" | ronance !

15.

nancy spun a pencil around her fingers; vacancy apparent in her gaze as she studied-- and only very mildly listened to mr. kaminski.

she occasionally glanced at the clock. the graying man had a miry voice that vibrated around the room; noiseless to nancy. she wanted to get out of this classroom.

she was rountinely delighted to participate in science class. but today, which was not unlike most other days -- forbye the abiding verity she was consumed by the lark-like melody of robins voice --  all she wanted to do was escape.

escape everything.

her fear was engrossing; trapping her like a jackrabbit in a fox den. except the fox den was the grip that barb's death had on nancy.

it shaped her perspective on gay people. not singlehandedly, of course, her parents aided in that.

her crush on robin was ephemeral, she knew it would eventually fade. she was an ancillary crush to each girl she had a subtle passing fancy for.
all this bullshit between steve and johnathan was a mask, a way to conceal her identity.

every touch of exhilaration she felt around either of them was just a chorus of delirium. sing-song birds fluttered around her, lifting her feet up off the ground and putting her above the rest.

she detested robin because of the juxtaposition between their lifestyles. also partially because she acknowledged her romantically, every moment spent between them-- nancy was absorbing every brilliant quality about robin.

it was a disease, an affliction between her percariously amalgamated lifestyle. the sickness in which she loved robin was like a storm, brewing up something revolting that was bound to crash into nancy's life.

last time a crush like this had reigned such power over her thoughts and mind; she died. when barbara went, a piece of nancy did aswell.

they loved eachother deeply. barbara left this world with the conviction that her feelings were unrequited. but, her feelings weren't one-sided.

nancy was met with the confliction back then, she could address her trepidations or continue to carry out her curated life; perfect on the outside, but bubbling beneath the surface was a mess.

and now here she was, indebted to the world. struggling through memories of bygone days; paying back the torment she had put barb through.

she was going to puke.

nancy snapped into reality, weakly raising her hand.

mr. kaminski glanced up, he was assisting a classmate on something she failed to make out, too involved in herself at that moment.

she held back what was rising in her throat as he wobbled over to her. right now, the old man's frailness seemed sturdier than her.

"yes, nancy?" he rasped, leaning over her desk and examining her pale face carefully.

"may i go to the bathroom?" she muttered, her breaths shuddering and quick; in harmony with her fluctuating heartbeat.

"make it fast," he nodded with approval.

nancy immediately got up; coming close to a jog as she escaped the suffocating classroom. the classroom that was filled with whispers as she skittered off.

the judgemental eyes that followed her frame as she hurried towards the bathroom didn't assist her.

she flung the stall door open as soon as she reached the tiled room. the buzzing overhead and abysmal linen lighting only flung her deeper into her breakdown as she held herself over the toilet.

recognizing her emotions was worse than experiencing them with confusion.