Three

more on Ellie's friends and boyfriend, her social life

Three

            Saturday morning, the first thought in my head was coffee. Despite my rumpled, just-out-of-bed appearance, I trudged groggily up the stairs and started the coffee pot. Neither of my parents were awake yet, and I sat at the table, gazing at old family pictures on the wall that I’d spent years staring at, memorizing every detail. The sun was just barely peeking above the trees behind our house, streaming thin strips of yellow onto the oak table, shaped almost like a barcode. I watched the strips get shorter right before my eyes as the sun’s trajectory continued to heighten, and blinked absently when the coffee pot’s beeper went off. I filled my favorite mug, and returned to my bedroom. It would be hours before I even needed to get ready, so I cracked open a book until I heard my parents upstairs, getting ready for their weekend day.

            Marking the page in the novel I was reading, I returned to the kitchen to refill my mug. “Morning,” my parents chided in tandem.

            “Morning,” I said, drenching my coffee in hazelnut cream, just for the sake of mixing things up, and went into the living room to see what was on TV.

            The day went on like that, nonchalant small talk being exchanged between me and my parents, aimless wandering around the interior of the house, until I finally gave up and decided to get ready for Evan’s party.

            I spent a good amount of time spurting fake blood along strategic places on the dress, trying my best to make it look realistic. As I waited for the red liquid to dry, I twirled my hair up into an elegant bun, allowing two or three small tendrils to fall along the side of my face. I placed the silver tiara precisely around the hairstyle and pinned it up in all the right places, applying half a can of hairspray in order to hold it in place.

            The dress had dried in the time it took to do my hair, and I pulled it on carefully, trying my best not to mess anything up. It was white silk, with tulle underneath the skirt to make it look like a tutu. The blood had turned out perfectly, looking as if I had been stabbed repeatedly and it was continually dripping down the length of the dress. It looked genuine, and I smiled in satisfaction, moving on to makeup.

            One of my eyes was perfectly made-up, a thick, smooth line of eyeliner curving at the end for a Cleopatra-like effect, with gold eye shadow and bronzer, and the left half of my lips were colored a soft pink, coated in sparkly gloss.

            The other half of my face, however, looked as if it had been decaying for years. I followed the instructions on the makeup carefully in order to make it appear as if the flesh of my face was barely hanging on the bones. By the time I was finished, I looked like an authentic Hollywood Zombie.

            I took a final glance at my reflection. It looked nothing like me, even less than my appearance the morning before. The only things that gave my identity away were my hair color and height. I put on my new gold jewelry, gave my hair a final spray, slipped into white ballet-flats, and headed up the stairs, purse in hand.

            I called a quick goodbye over my shoulder as I pulled my coat on, ready to leave. I was immediately greeted by the pounding footsteps of Mike as he stormed up the stairs, ready to ruin my night already. He burst from the stairway frantically, turning and looking at me, eyes narrowed. “That dress is pretty ripped up, Ellie.”

            I sighed. “Mike, I’m going to be late. I promise that next year I’ll go as a nun.”

            He considered my proposition, his lips pursed. “Fine,” he said, and retreated to his chair downstairs.

            “Bye!” my mom called from the top floor as I cracked the door open,  I shut it behind me in relief, making my way toward my car. I buckled in, following the directions that Marissa had texted me earlier to Evan’s house.

            Cars lined both sides of Evan’s street, as well as his lawn. People were pouring through the doors, dressed in various costumes. Most girls were dressed in skimpy dresses and five-inch heels, much like I’d seen at the costume boutique, while most guys were dressed in ridiculous costumes that were supposed to be “punny,” or otherwise completely inappropriate. The best one by far that I had seen so far was Riley Michaels, who had attached green boxes to both of his hips and his back, and dressed in brown, as a Couch Potato.

            I made my way to the front door and quickly spotted Rissa and Holly. Rissa was dressed as a cat, in a black tutu meant for a six-year-old with an attached tail, a black, too-tight tee shirt, Sharpie whiskers, and kitty ears. Holly had decided to be a Barbie doll (Imagine that!), with huge, plastic heels, a tank top, and a silver mini skirt. I rolled my eyes, sighing in exasperation, and chose to ignore them for the moment; maybe they wouldn’t notice I had arrived. Besides, they would probably be shocked that I had chosen a costume that was supposed to be ugly. Heaven forbid.

             Once I had bustled past other students, I took a moment to take in the environment of Evan’s house. Smoke, and not just tobacco smoke, wafted along the ceiling. Several card tables were set up, and students seemed to have made a game of bouncing ping pong balls into cups filled with various forms of alcohol. People were everywhere, covering every inch of Evan’s house, sweating and talking and making out. Disgusted, I squeezed through a hoard of students until I reached the staircase. Making my way up the stairs, strategically avoiding tripping over stray plastic cups, I searched around for someone I could talk to that wasn’t drinking or doing drugs. Coming to no avail, my gaze fell on Sean across the upstairs living room. He was smoking a cigarette, and his other hand held a red plastic cup. My expression fell. He was slouched lazily in the corner, looking immensely bored, when his gaze caught mine. He appeared to hesitate for a moment, but a slow smile crept across his lips and he swam through the depths of teenagers to the other side of the room.

            Even from three feet away, I could smell the alcohol that dripped from Sean’s pores, along with cigarette smoke. Luckily, I didn’t come across any trace of random drugs on him, and I smiled weakly. “Hey, Sean,” I said.

            “Babe, you made it,” he said too loudly, lounging against the wall opposite me as he had earlier. “Nice costume. I didn’t even recognize ya at first. Are you like, a zombie bride or something?”

            “Dead prom queen,” I corrected pointlessly and decided to light a cigarette of my own. I realized then that I didn’t have pockets, and my purse was in my car. “Can I bum a smoke?”

            “Suuuurree,” he drawled, “but you’ll hafta find it first.”

            He was so drunk. Disgusted, I debated with myself whether or not it was really worth searching him for a cigarette. Defeated, I reached into his shirt pocket, counting myself lucky that I found the Marlboro there. His lighter was in the same pocket, and I gratefully snatched it as well, lighting up.

            It was then that I realized I hadn’t even seen what Sean was as wearing a costume. His tee shirt was plain white with the simple pocket in front, and he wore a black leather jacket. His hair was greasy and slicked back, and he wore a simple pair of blue jeans and Converse hi-tops. “What are you supposed to be?”

            “I’m a T-Bird, y’know, from Grease.”

            I laughed earnestly, amused by his choice. “Wow, Sean, that’s…. interesting.” I loved musicals, so I was impressed by the fact that he had chosen Grease, but it was completely out of character for him. Last year, he had dressed as a swimsuit model, and every girl at the party was drooling over him, which was just a terrific night for me, of course. 

            Before I saw him coming, Sean looped an arm behind me and pulled me into him, crushing his lips to mine avidly. Ew, ew, ew. He was sweaty and his breath smelled disgusting, but he was relentless. His hands traveled slowly down my side, and my eyes widened, realizing he was trying to get handsy with me. Soo not gonna happen. I finally had to pry myself loose, gasping for air. “I think I’m gonna go get a drink,” I said brusquely, desperate to escape his body-builder embrace. He hesitated, but set me free.

            I practically sprinted down the stairs to the kitchen, filling a cup with whatever was in the nearest bottle. Timidly, I sipped the concoction, wincing at the terrible, bitter taste. It creeped down my throat, incinerating. I took a tremulous breath, deciding I might as well have some fun while I was here.

            When I turned around to go see who I could find to hang out with, Marissa stood inches from me, nearly jumping out of her shoes. “Jeez, Ell, did you do your makeup like that?”

            “Sure did,” I confirmed, proud of my work. I raised an eyebrow. “Not what you expected?”

            Marissa seemed to hesitate. She gave me a quick once-over, carefully forming her words. “It’s…very… um, different.”

            “Thanks,” I shot back sarcastically. “Where’s Holly?”

            “Bathroom,” Marissa suggested, shrugging boredly.. “Where have you been all night?”

            “I was, um, seeing if I could find Sean.”

            I could almost see the light bulb go on in Marissa’s head. “You still have to tell me everything about your little date with him the other night!”

            “Maybe later,” I said, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’m, uh, gonna go find him now.” I pushed past Marissa and squeezed my way through the crowd of people, catching a short glimpse of Sean’s white t-shirt at the top of the staircase.

            By the time I had made my way through the maze of people, bottles, and red plastic cups, to the top of the stairs, Sean had disappeared. I sighed, debating whether or not it would be worth it to look for him. I saw another white t-shirt, and inched across the hall toward it, frowning when it was someone else.

            He was nowhere to be seen in the crowded living room, and when I turned around, giving up and deciding to get more to drink, I finally saw him.

            His gold hair was disheveled, his blue eyes piercing, even from across the hallway. His lips curved over his straight, white teeth in a grin as he leaned down, his eyes tantalizing…

            …and he began to make out with Holly. Instincts told me to storm across the hallway and rip her away from him, to slap him across the face and leave the party in anger, but I was rooted to the spot. She was just as aggressive as he, and he responded positively to her, wrapping his arms around her as if they did this on a daily basis.

            Did they?

            Finally, I tore my feet from the carpet and walked across the hallway, slow, until I stood a few feet from the duo. Holly’s back was to me, and Sean was leaning against the wall. His blue eyes opened momentarily, and connected with mine. He took in my clenched jaw, crossed arms, and he pulled away from Holly. She seemed confused, and when she turned to see me standing there, her eyes widened to the size of golf balls. I saw her utter a cuss word under her breath, and I gave her a look that told her to leave. She understood, and was down the stairs within seconds.

            Sean hadn’t removed his gaze from me. “Babe, it isn’t what it looks like.”

            I just looked at him, disgusted, betrayed. Then again, how could I not expect something like this from him? “We’re done,” was all I said, and I began to descend the stairs, ready to leave the party.

            His hand closed tightly around my upper arm, tightly enough that I couldn’t move any further. “Let’s talk about this,” he whispered, his lips pressed against my ear, “I think we may be able to work something out if you just listen to me.” His voice was intimidating and malevolent. I hesitated, staring straight ahead, but turned around, following him as he tugged me into a bedroom and slammed the door behind us, locking it.

            “We’re not done,” he hissed finally, “until I say we’re done.” He turned around slowly to face me. His eyes were red, and I could smell vodka and tequila, amongst other brews. He had a problem, an addiction, and he needed help. Once he started, he just couldn’t stop. Even now, he had a bottle in his hand of clear liquid, which he took a swig from, placing it down on the dresser. “What you saw back there,” he continued, “was nothing. She totally came onto me, Babe. I tried to get her to back off.”

            “Oh, yeah, you really looked like you wanted her to stop,” I shot back, eyes narrowed. “You know what the worst part is, Sean? This isn’t your first time doing this. Is one girl not good enough? Fine. I’ll leave, and you’ll never have to talk to me again.” By then, I had backed into one corner of the room, my arms crossed, and I was shaking my head at him, ready to walk out of the room when he moved.

            Sean crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing each of my wrists in a hand and uncrossing my arms, pinning them against the wall on either side of my head. “Do not talk to me like that,” he spat, “You know, I don’t have to date you. I can have any girl I want.”

            “Then don’t!” I shouted. “If you don’t have to date me, then don’t. It looks to me like you’d really rather be sticking your tongue down some other girl’s throat, so go find someone more worth your time.” What was his deal? This was the third time something like this had happened, and when he got violent, he didn’t give up until he was finished. It was the same way he was with girls. I knew exactly what would happen, so why did I fight him? It could only get worse.

            Right on queue, I immediately regretted my words. Sean’s jaw clenched and he bent my wrists back, way too far. He held them, pushing a little bit farther. My fingers were nearly touching the back of my forearm. Tears streamed, and I bit my tongue to refrain from crying out in pain. If he pushed any more, my wrists would break. “You got anything else to say?” he demanded, and

            If my wrists broke, I wouldn’t be able to play volleyball. That would be my mom’s first thought.

            “Do you!?” He said again, getting right in my face, his blue eyes as hard and cold as ice. I shook my head desperately, and he released my wrists. I exhaled, spinning my wrists in circles to see if they were broken, and I carefully looked up to see Sean’s expression. He paced the room, running his fingers through his hair.

            “Sean,” I said, careful and slow, “I can’t do this anymore. You have to move on.” Tears continued to pour down my face, and my voice trembled. I flinched when his gaze shot up, ravenous.

            “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. When will you learn? None of this is my fault. If you would just let me have control, like you’re supposed to, none of this would happen. We’d be happy. Isn’t that what you want? Just let me do my thing, and I’ll let you do yours. Understand?”

            I shook my head slowly, my eyes on the floor. “I have to end this now, Sean.”

            He was suddenly on my side of the room, and he shoved me back into the wall. My head slammed back into the wall, bouncing off, and I felt one of the muscles in my neck pull. “You are not leaving me!” he shouted, “You have no choice.”

            I was sobbing, terrified. His teeth were bared, his jaw clenched, as well as his fists. He raised his hands again and I flinched, but he simply pinned my hands up again, this time not bending my wrists. “Say it. Say you won’t leave me.”

            I shook my head. “Sean, please,” I begged, “please, please, let me go, just let me go. I c-can’t do this. I’m sorry, Sean, I can’t stay with you, I just can’t.”

            He was infuriated, and his hand was suddenly on my throat. He squeezed hard, and I fought for breath, my face growing hot, and he squeezed harder when I fought against his grip. When he was sure I understood that he wouldn’t back down, he spoke. “No. This isn’t your choice, it’s not a deal. I’m the man in this relationship, and I say what goes. We’re staying together, and I’m going to keep drinking whenever I want. It’s not for you to say what I can and can’t do.” His eyes were narrowed, but his voice was low. I struggled to cough, my vision growing blurry, and I became dizzy. It was then that I realized I could die, right then and there. I went limp. Do it, I wanted to say, kill me. I just want this to end. Please, Sean, just end it.

            I couldn’t help but catch a particular segment of his lecture that I felt the need to correct. A sad smile slowly played on the corner of my lips, and I opened my mouth to speak, but at first, no sound came out. I had to work to force the hoarse words to escape my throat. “I don’t think you can honestly call what we have a relationship.”

            The sharp sting on my face was a reminder of my position in our situation, and that I wasn’t supposed to speak or voice my opinion in any way. In Sean’s head, that was the way things should be. I realized then that my boyfriend was a complete sociopath. I raised my fingers to my face, and this time, the flash of pain was real, not just a distant memory. His hand had released my throat, and I took a deep, long breath, enjoying the oxygen, my eyes rising to meet Sean’s. He glared right back, intent. “Do we understand each other?”

            I took a moment to check my position, and saw that both of his fists were clenched at his sides. It was perfect.

            Before Sean could blink, I hopped up onto the bed and over to the other side of my room, where I unlocked the door and stepped outside the room. “Oh, I think we understand each other quite well. We’re through, Sean.” 

            By the time he could even get out of the bedroom, I was at the bottom of the stairs, headed straight toward the front door. I realized that my makeup was probably completely trashed from crying, as well as where Sean’s hand had been, but I ignored the stares of others and stormed out of Evan’s house.

            It took all of my focus to keep my car in the right lane on the road, and when I stopped at the familiar red light before the golf course, the tears came again. They came in torrents, endless, and it was hard to even see where I was going, my vision was so blurred.

            When I finally came to my driveway, I pulled the keys out of the ignition and sighed, resting my head against the top of the steering wheel. Makeup dripped with my tears onto my dress, but I didn’t care. I wiped away the last of my tears and exhaled in exasperation and relief.

            It was finally over. I had finally broken it off, and I no longer had to deal with Sean. He was ancient history.

            Against everything that had happened that night, I smiled, laughed even. It was minutes before I could stop, and I had to take a deep breath to compose myself. Shaky with happiness and leftover terror from earlier, I got out of my car, leaving my purse, and locked it.

            I walked in through the front door, and wasn’t surprised to see my mom working at the kitchen table on her laptop. She looked up in greeting, returning her gaze to the computer, and then looked up again. “What the hell happened to you?” she questioned without sympathy.

            She asked it as if it were an accusation, as if I had done something to myself. I had even been considering telling her about what had happened at the party, but that idea went right out the window. “It’s just my makeup,” I said tiredly after a moment of consideration.

            “It’s dripping down your face.”

            “People were, um, spraying other people with water. I have no idea why they were doing it; I left early because everyone was so drunk.”

             Mom clucked her tongue, her eyes still on the computer screen. “Teenagers,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Night, honey,” she said distractedly, dismissing me.

            “Whatever,” I mumbled, sighing sadly and walking downstairs to see what Mike had to say for the night.

            “Nice.” That was it. He took one look at me, and that was all he could think of to say. Mike wasn’t really the best with words.

            “Thanks,” I said sarcastically, and began to descend the second short flight of stairs to my room, but Mike stopped me.

            “Are you okay, Lizzie?”

            Mike was better than Mom; maybe, if I told him about the party, he would finally take advantage of his Protective Daddy role and beat the living daylights out of Sean. I doubted it. “Just fine, Mike. I decided to call it early, left before everyone else. Good night.”

            “Goodnight,” he said back, returning his gaze to the television.

            Once in my room, I immediately stripped out of my ruined costume and took all of the pins out of my hair. I changed into pajamas, went upstairs to wash my face, and came back downstairs, too lazy to shower, deciding I would take one first thing in the morning.

            I switched the lights off and crawled into bed, pulling the thick comforter over the top of me and wishing I could disappear forever. I curled my arms around the teddy bear I had slept with for the past nine years, tears slowly trickling and disappearing into the bear’s fur. I gave a shaky sigh, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was not viable that night. The felling of irony was vehement in my thoughts. I had always thought that Marissa would somehow stab me in the back, that she would be the maid who poisoned the queen’s wine and took the crown for herself. I never really imagined that the quiet, blasé, white-blond girl standing next to her would be the one to take Sean for herself. In a way, she had done me a favor�"I was ridden of Sean!�"but it still bothered me, because she’d surely had no idea of my urge to get out of the relationship. How long had Holly liked Sean? Was this planned? Had it happened before? The questions ran through my head in circles, confusing me, and I kept hearing Sean’s voice in my ear, menacing and malicious.        “We’re not done until I say we’re done.”

            I shuddered under my blankets, pulling the bear closer to me. I spent the night falling in and out of sleep, tossing and turning around inevitable nightmares.

           

            “God, you look terrible. Are you sure you’re okay?”

            It was Mike’s voice, and he looked up at me across the kitchen table over his newspaper, concern clear on his face.

            Again the temptation to open up and confess everything rose, but I smacked it right back down. My eyebrows rose. “I’m fine, just didn’t sleep much last night.”

            “Why not?”

            Did he really expect me to have an answer for that? The first idea that popped into my head would most likely get me in trouble, but it was quickest and easiest. “Guilt. I tried a little bit of Malibu last night, and I feel terrible, because I promised Mom I wouldn’t drink.” My mom had rushed into work earlier that morning to sign a contract, excited that she had sold an apartment at the retirement home, so there was no chance of her eavesdropping

            Mike nodded. “Ahh, that makes sense. You should tell her… better now than later, and you know that if you don’t, I’ll have to.”

            I forced a smile, chuckling. “Thaaanks Mike. And don’t worry; I’ll take care of it.” I took a large gulp of my coffee�"pumpkin and cinnamon flavored�"and stared across the dining room at nothing in particular. I was in an in-between mood that day. On one hand, I was relieved. No more Sean. I wanted to jump and cheer and sing. On the other hand, I was depressed. Regardless of what a jerk Sean was, the fact that he’d cheated on me hurt, and a knot had attached itself to my stomach from the moment I woke up that morning, and refused to let go. The way I thought of it, that knot was a constant reminder of Sean, and unless I got rid of it, I would never really be ridden of him.

            I took my coffee downstairs to my room, setting it on my desk before bending down to pick up the remains of my costume, tossing it all into the waste bin. This was step one to putting the party behind me.

            I checked my phone and saw I only had six billion messages from Marissa asking where I’d gone, and a few from Holly apologizing, saying that she was drunk and didn’t know what she was doing. I deleted all of Holly’s messages, and texted Marissa to let her know I was safe at home.       

            She texted back seconds later. “Every1 is tlkng. They jst saw u storm out of a bdroom with Sean behnd u. WTH happnd?”

            Whatever reason that was behind Marissa’s inability to put vowels in her words when she texted was beyond me, but I texted back. “He made out with Holly. I got mad and stormed out.”

            “Tht !@#$% ! How cld she do somthng lik that?”

            I sighed. “Idk. Talk to you later.” I put my phone down and sat on my bed, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my forehead on top of them. Too much had happened in such a short period of time, and my head spun in confusion.

            “Ellie!” my mom called from the top of the stairs, apparently home. “I’m going to Wal-Mart. Do you need anything?”

            I contemplated this. Getting out of the house would be the perfect opportunity to get my mind off of things, so I walked to the stairs, calling up. “Do you mind if I go with you? I have something I want to talk to you about.”

            Confessing about the alcohol incident I had discussed with Mike that morning would be the perfect excuse to go grocery shopping with her.

            “That’s fine,” she said, “I’m leaving in five minutes.”

            I had already showered and dressed earlier in the morning, so I pulled my hair up into a pony tail, slipped into tennis shoes, and ambled up the stairs to join her. Mike gave me an approving look, nodding in encouragement as Mom and I walked out to her Lexus. I walked around to the passenger side, and she stopped me. “Would you mind driving? I haven’t read the paper yet, and I want to see the obituary for a man who was in Hillside.” Hillside was the retirement home where she worked.

            “That’s fine,” I agreed, and walked around to the driver’s side, buckling in.

            “So, what did you want to talk about?” Mom asked as she strapped on her seatbelt.

            I opened my mouth to begin my confession, but my eye caught the front page of the newspaper she was reading.

            Galesburg Suicide Still a Mystery!

            I blinked. “Did you read that thing in the paper about the girl who committed suicide?”

            My mom glanced at the paper, scoffing in disgust. “Yes, unfortunately. It’s so selfish, how could she possibly be fully willing to cause her family so much grief?”

            I sighed, pretending to agree. “I know. I wonder why she did it.”

            Mom shook her head. “It’s insane that they still can’t find a cause. Probably something stupid, like a boy she liked or something.” She rolled her eyes. “She probably obsessed over something, and was disappointed. Teenagers these days. Thank God you’re not like that. It was probably her own thoughts that killed her.”

            “It was probably her own thoughts that killed her.”

            These words rang in my head as I started the car and headed for Wal-Mart. They bounced off the walls of my skull as we went through the aisles, putting food into our cart, my mom babbling on about how she couldn’t stand the RNs at work.

            I remembered a particular day that I had gone to science, freshman year, and our teacher had talked about the human brain. “No computer, no technology, will ever be capable of doing what the human brain can do. Our minds are, perhaps, the most deadly things on this planet.” The lecture seemed to make a lot more sense now. I put myself in the place of the girl in Galesburg, walking around in school, talking, acting happy, and watching as everyone is oblivious to the things going on in my head. Strange, how easy it was to imagine how she must have felt, how familiar the idea was to me.

            As we packed the groceries into the trunk of the car, my mom gave me a look. “Are you feeling okay? You haven’t said a word since we left.” She reached out and placed the back of her hand against my forehead, then did the same to my cheeks.

            “I’m fine, Mom.”

            She looked at me carefully, but put in the last of the groceries and shut the trunk promptly. She drove us home, and after packing all the groceries away into their proper cabinets, I went down into my room to think, absently remembering that I hadn’t yet admitted to drinking, and should do so before Mike beat me to the punch.

            I imagined that the Galesburg girl had nearly exploded from the things running in her mind, the thoughts that she kept inside, and finally found a way to escape. I thought it was extremely brave of her, and felt sympathy for the fact that she had no other outlet. I found my thoughts strange, almost feared what I could possibly be implying with the assumptions, but pushed the fear away.

            This girl had presented herself in such a way that no one even came close to suspecting what she planned on doing; no one had a clue of her reasoning. She hid it all so well, and now she was famous for it, and her death was a controversy of the nation, a mystery that would keep people like me up at night, thinking.

            With a sigh, I pulled out my diary, wondering if she had written the thoughts she kept bottled up down on paper. Surely not, considering they hadn’t found anything. I wrote simply for the sake of writing. It didn’t help unload my thoughts, didn’t take away my problems, didn’t erase my secrets from my mind. No matter how many times I wrote something down on paper, it still haunted me, swam around the depths of my mind until it was replaced by something else, and still it was never really forgotten, just filed away. I wondered how many thoughts were filed away, waiting to be reopened and to torture me again.

            I hadn’t even realized that I’d fallen asleep when my alarm blasted the fact that it was 6:30am, and therefore time to get ready for school.

            I went through my morning routine as a zombie, thoughtless, emotionless, until I had my coffee. When the first drop of caffeine shot through my bloodstream, I was fully awake and ready. I grabbed my purse, my binder, my keys, and my coat, and headed out the door.

            My mom’s car was gone, so I assumed that she had been called into work early that morning, which told me that she would be tired that afternoon and therefore in a bad mood. Terrific.

            I arrived at school early, around the same time that most teachers were showing up. I greeted a few of them as I walked across the ground to the door, coffee in hand. In the hallway, few students socialized at their lockers, waiting for the morning rush of the bus riders. I stopped at my locker to put some things away, and nearly cried out in surprise when I closed the locker door and saw Sean’s face behind it.

            “Sean, stay away from me.”

            “C’mon, Babe,” he looked around, and then grabbed my arm, tugging me into a nearby supply closet.

            “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

            “I’m getting you back,” he said desperately, putting a finger to my lips. “Just hear me out. I am so, so, so sorry about what happened at Evan’s party. I can’t believe I betrayed you like that, and then what happened in the bedroom…” He looked at me, desperation and anxiety clear on his face. “I can’t live without you, Babe. I promise, if you just take me back, I’ll never touch another drop of alcohol again. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I have no idea what got into me.”

            I was completely taken aback. His eyes were watery, as if he were about to cry, and he looked so sincere. I sighed, leaning back against the wall for support. “Sean, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

            “Please,” he begged, “Ellie, I don’t know what I’ll do without you. You’re everything to me; I can’t lose you, now or ever.”

            I was actually impressed; he called me “Ellie” instead of “Babe.” I couldn’t believe I was actually considering his offer, and I was even more surprised at the words that came out of my mouth.

            “This is your last chance, Sean.” Where the hell did that come from? I was supposed to stomp on his feelings, to rip him to pieces, and then walk away without a care. Why could I never just stick to the plan? Then again…what would Mom think? Ending the perfect relationship? Why, her daughter was too good for anyone else! Sean was the only option.

            “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sean chanted, picking me up off the ground in a bear hug and spinning me around. “I won’t let you down, Ellie, I promise.”

            I sure hope not, I thought. The first bell rang, and I heard people in the hallway bustling around and talking. “I gotta get to class,” I said, “I’ll see you at lunch.”

            The minute I stepped out of the closet, my eyes connected with Holly’s. She stood on the other end of the hall, and when she saw Sean exit behind me, her jaw literally dropped. Whoops.

            I quickly dove into the hoards of people in the hallway, struggling to go against the current so I could get into the AP English classroom.

            I took my seat in the front, just barely making the bell.

            “Alright, everyone,” Mr. Saltz began, clapping his hands and rubbing them together excitedly. “We’re officially done with practice essays, and I expect you all to be writing flawless applications and getting into good colleges. Now that that’s over with, I have an assignment that can be pretty fun, depending on what you decide to do with it.”

            Thank Goodness that those putrid essays are done, I thought. If I’d had to take another day of them, I probably would have died of boredom.

            “I want you all to cut out a newspaper or magazine article that you find interesting, and I want you to write a report, basically interpreting the article, picking it apart. We did something similar to this during the first week of school, so I assume that I won’t have to be giving much direction. Is anyone unsure of what we’re doing?” He paused, looking around the classroom. “Alright, then. I have several copies of the past week’s Kalamazoo Gazette, so have at it!”

            I immediately located the article I was looking for, bold and boasting on the front page. I cut it out, bringing it back to my desk. I must have read it over a thousand times before I finally sat back in my seat to think of what I would write. Tapping my pencil, I zoned out, bringing back all of my thoughts from the night before. As I made an outline, the bell rang, and I decided I would have to continue it later. This would be the easiest assignment ever.

            The day was slower than most, ambling by with the pace of an escalator at the mall. When I finally reached the cafeteria during lunch period, Sean followed me around like a puppy, tight on my heels. I did my best to seem happy that we were back together, but those dangerous thoughts swam, the ones that he didn’t know about me, the ones that would be filed away with the others, stuffing the filing cabinet to the point of near over- replete. I wondered nonchalantly what would happen when I couldn’t fit any more thoughts in the files. Would some be erased to make more room?

            My thoughts were interrupted when hoards of people surrounded me, desperate to hear a juicy story of what had went on at the party. I fed them the same lie that I had given Marissa, saying that I had caught Sean with Holly, and that I had decided to give him a second chance, because he had been drunk and didn’t know what he was doing.

            He seemed to appreciate my lie, and when I sat down to eat, he sat next to me, squeezing my hand with empathy. I smiled weakly, squeezing his hand back to say I understood him. It was the biggest lie I ever told.