Somebody Else ✔

Weird feelings and quotes.

Sam.

Edited.

I was having a nightmare about the English exam.

Vinnie Abrams sat at one of the picnic benches in our locker block. I hadn't known much about him before he began fooling around with Bodhi -- other than he was the universal tutor for every school subject. However after Bodhi and he had hooked up one drunken night, that following week the school was crawling with rumours about why a Jewish boy was in a catholic school. We didn't know the answer to that -- but we knew he let us paint his nails and had a fondness for knitted jumpers. His small, brown eyes worried you before you knew him and even more after.

He was trying to teach a small, frantic, group the main points of A Thousand Splendid Suns and how the context of Khaled Hosseini contributed to his body of work. On the bench next to him, Izzy was using her hands as she discussed characterization. Izzy ran her hands through her hair -- a nervous tick of hers -- and it fell out in clumps into her hands. We, her peers, continued to chatter on around her.

I was sitting against the lockers with Georgie. She was having a panic attack. I passed her a bottle of Vodka every time she came up for air. "What did you do to it?" She wheezed threw a closed throat.

"Nothing. It's fine." I said, like it was a chocolate milk bought from the canteen. I was leaning as faraway from her as I could, and listened to the buoyant conversation around me, but they were faded and distant.

It was a cold and windswept day, but Corey stood on the final picnic bench in the year 12 locker block, in her underwear, dancing. Isaac sat, watching. She danced on the table with Danielle Peterson, Lana Le Clos and Macey Black. Aggie Buchanan was sitting on Cole's lap at the table.

Almost within the blink of an eye 160 kids put their ties straight and tucked in their shirts. We all mechanically walked out of the block, leaving our green lockers behind.  My peers stripped off their jewelry and hid their gum as we walked, a muddled mass. Their green uniforms were pressed and clean -- but were heavily darned.

A hand grabbed my arms as I tried to follow. Izzy's delicate fingers, were on me and I could barely feel the pressure. Her fingers were cold, jolting me -- the same feeling of bare feet on concrete. Turning, my stomach churned at the sight of thick, red blood gushing from Izzy's nose. I reached out to touch her cheek, and as I did, Izzy's face -- weathered worry lines, dark circles underneath her enchanting hazel eyes -- morphed into Corey's. Corey's eyes -- so richly blue they were violet -- squinted.

Sunbeams filtered through the locker block roof, illuminating her in an effervescent yellow. Her steady pale hands reached out to hold mine, I flinched away. And I walked out into the blue rain, trying to run from them.

I woke up on the floor, crying. My dog -- Daisy -- was curled up next to me, her paw on my face. Her brown eyes wilted downwards, and her cool tongue pressed against my cheek. Instead of pulling away, I brought her closer to me, and buried my head into her fur.

My eyes bleary and mind foggy, I dialed Alex. Mostly because I remembered a conversation at Jace's football party -- the last time we had seen each other -- in which Alex had said how he almost never slept.

He answered on the first ring, his voice bright and enthusiastic even if it was so late. We spoke for half an hour, about nothing and everything really.

"You know, it's kinda bullshit we only ever see each other when our friends are together." His voice slow and apprehensive. I rested my fingers against my lips and nibbled at my nails. I had never noticed before, but his voice was tinged with a slight accent.