issue twenty-seventh: not a poet, just nico

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I plugged my earphone in and blasted electronic music on full volume as I made my way through the corridor and towards my classroom the next day. I was half afraid my bloodshot and swollen eyes would give away too much and glued them to the floor. I was aware of several gazes trained on me, jeering and sneering in my direction.

I picked up my pace, resisting the urge to break into a run as I finally reached the classroom. I felt extremely vulnerable, feeling all eyes on me as I bowed my head and quickly made my way to the very back of the first class, biology. I rested my forehead against the desk, shutting my eyes and letting the music drown out as much of the world outside as it could. My heart raced with nervousness, afraid that someone would approach me. However, I was lucky when our teacher arrived and started talking about Mendelian Inheritance. I struggled to maintain focus, extremely aware of people staring at me even as I did so.

I escaped the classroom the moment the hour was over and quickly called Cam, knowing I couldn't be alone that day. He picked up on the first ring and thankfully, met me in front of the biology lab along with Ray. Both of their faces were pale with what I assumed was worry.

"Hey," Cam shook his head. "So..."

"Let's just...I don't want to talk about it," I answered. They nodded and I was thankful that they weren't pushing it. While I was talking to them, I heard someone whisper something unintelligible from behind me. Even without listening, I knew it was about me. My stomach twisted in anxiety. How long would this go on? 

I turned around as Cam balled his fists, glaring at the curly-haired junior who deflated a little under his stare and walked away.

I went through the entire day trying hard to hold my own. If things were so bad for me, I could only imagine how much worse they were for Wilder. I saw him walking along the corridor once between the classes, alone. His face remained impassive, his eyes haunted and hollow. Like somewhere, the light behind them had gone out. I felt like a dagger was stuck down my windpipe.

He looked like he hadn't slept for days. Despite what had happened in the locker room that day, my heart still ached for him. Hot magma pooled my insides when I remembered the incidence with cruel clarity. How had this happened? How had I found myself in this massive scandal and even dragged Wilder with me into the messy quagmire?

By the end of the day, some of the sneerings had subsided. Maybe people were getting bored. At least, I hoped they were. I was exhausted of ignoring everyone anyway. Our last class was English and my heart raced in trepidation. It was time to hand in the assignment that had kept me awake the entire night.

And worse, Wilder would be there. Under usual circumstances, I would be delighted at a chance to see him during school hours, something I rarely did. This time, however, I was terrified of the pain I knew I would feel on seeing him in anguish. 

English was the common subject across all the streams, which meant that the majority of the students, including Wilder, took it. I entered the classroom, my heart in my throat and sat at the left most corner of the room with Cam and Ray. I looked around, spotting Wilder on the opposite corner, his face resting on the desk. Thankfully, apart from a few stares and whispers in his direction, no one seemed to be saying anything.

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