Ten of Me ✓

Thirty-One

NICOLE

I slept on and off the rest of the day on Tuesday, waking up every once and a while because my dreams haunted me too much to go back to sleep. Then exhaustion would sink in again and I'd doze off just to escape from my tormented thoughts, because they were even worse than my sleeping revelations. I didn't eat anything or even get out of bed until Wednesday morning, when Mom shook me awake with wide eyes.

"Nicole, honey," she said, smoothing down my matted hair. I'd never bothered to dry it after my shower Monday evening, and it had dried wavy and frizzy. "You need to eat something. Brush your hair and come downstairs for breakfast."

I rolled over onto my back and groaned; she had just woken me up for a particularly awful nightmare, and I didn't know whether I was less eager to face the day or go back to sleep.

Mom shook me again gently, her lips set in a thin line. "Nicole, please get up. You should go to school, too; it'll be good for you."

When I thought about going to school and walking through hallways without my best friend at my side, or eating lunch without hearing her smack her gum excruciatingly loudly or gossip about what had happened at the latest party, made my heart hurt. But staying here in bed and hearing her screaming every time I closed my eyes was still worse, so I reluctantly swung my legs over the side of my bed and sat up straight.

"That's my brave girl," said Mom, leaning forward to kiss my cheek before standing and heading downstairs. I watched her disappear before standing up myself and stumbling over to my closet.

Still swept up in my latest dream, I halfheartedly yanked some clothes out of my closet and pulled them on. I saw that I'd accidentally grabbed a ratty-looking t-shirt with a quote on it, but I didn't even care that shirts with words on them were against dress code and I'd probably get in trouble for wearing it. It was a miracle that I was even attending school today.

Since it was still early and since I looked like a wreck, I made myself get in the shower, but everything reminded me of Morgan. The body wash perched on the ledge was a bottle that Morgan had gotten me for my birthday last year; she had wrapped it with bright wrapping paper and had paired it with matching perfume and lotion. As I rubbed it on and then rinsed it off in the shower water, I felt like I was washing Morgan herself away, and I had to choke back more tears as I switched off the shower and began to get dressed.

I didn't bother straightened or curling my hair as I dried it, feeling like I was defying my old self. All I'd ever used to want was to be unique, to look different than I usually did and to act like someone other than myself. Now I wore minimal makeup and didn't even bother to fix my hair or put effort into my outfit. I felt like I at least owed it to Morgan to be Nicole Thorn entirely, without a trace of fakeness or anyone else.

By the time I'd made it to school, I'd nearly melted down into tears three times and I was struggling to keep my eyes focused on the road ahead of me, where I was driving. All I wanted was to be back inside my bed, curled up in my crisp white sheets and fast asleep where the tortures of daytime and reality could never reach me. Never mind those nightmares I'd been having--anything was better than being completely conscious of the fact that I, with my transformations and my changes, had practically been the one to kill my best friend.

I whipped my car into a parking space near the school entrance, slamming on my brakes right before I hit the curb and then unbuckling. Before I let myself step out into the parking lot, I forced myself to take deep breaths. I didn't know if I could make it through the day with everything weighing down on me, but I at least had to try.

Finally, I was able to swing my backpack over my shoulders and make my way to the front door of the school, staring at the ground beneath me so that I didn't have to meet anyone's eyes. I knew I'd be singled out today, because I'd been Morgan's best friend, but all I wanted was to be invisible. It was something I would have never wished on myself a few weeks ago, but now, it seemed like the only way to make it through.