"Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been...
Stiles and I were sitting next to each other. He had his lacrosse stick on his hands while I was just playing with my fingers. After what happened, Dad made us come to talk with the school's counselor.
"You know when you're drowning; you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's actually kind of peaceful." Stiles murmured.
"Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?" Ms. Morrell asked him.
"I don't feel sorry for him." Stiles and I replied at the same moment.
"Can you feel sorry for the nine-year-old Matt who drowned?"
"Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one." Stiles said. "And by the way, my dad told us that they found a bunch of pictures of Cassie on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing." He said and I looked down. "You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."
"One positive thing came out of this, though, right?" Ms. Morrell nodded her head with a smile and I remember that our Dad is the sheriff again.
"Yeah. But I still feel like there's something wrong between us. I don't know. It's just like tension when we talk." I replied.
"Same thing with Scott." Stiles said and I closed my eyes for a second.
"Have you talked to him since that night?" Ms. Morrell asked.
"No, not really. I mean, he's got his own problems to deal with, though. I don't think he's talked to Allison either." Stiles said and I bit the inside of my cheek forcefully, almost making it bleed. "But that might be more her choice, you know. Her mom dying hit her pretty hard. But I guess it brought her and her dad closer. Jackson? Jackson hasn't really been himself lately."
"Actually the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal." I said.
"And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night?" Ms. Morrell asked.
"Why? Why would you ask me that?" He asked, biting his nails but stopping when she looked at him. "Ah, Uh, no. I—I never actually play. But hey, since of one my teammates is dead and another one's missing, who knows, right?"
"You mean, Isaac. One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them, have you?" Ms. Morrell asked.
"How come you're not taking any notes on this?" I asked her.
"I do my notes after the session."
"Your memory's that good?" I asked.
"Your dad said you've been acting strange, Cassidy." She said and I looked away. "How about we get back to you?" She looked at Stiles. "Stiles?"
My brother looked up. "I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen."
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