Surprisingly enough, I was able to sleep last night.

It was a little hard to actually fall asleep, but after that, I had no weird dreams. I just feel weird. Sometimes, random chills run down my spine, and I don't feel like walking past the countryside ever again, but I'll really be okay.

I woke up because I needed to go to the bathroom and then saw Thomas's text. From four to thirty past six, we texted. Basically caught up on everything that has been happening and spoke about random things. He didn't mention my 'crush' on Gally, luckily.

Wait. Is that good? Or does that mean he knows?

No, he won't text me like that if he knows. He stays loyal to Teresa.

I look in the mirror after putting my phone down. The circles really aren't that bad. Some concealer will fix the slight dark color below my eyes. I don't feel tired. I feel more awake than I have in weeks.

I could tell he was tired, but he refused to stop texting. The way his sentences were built and how long it took for him to type said it all.

During the time he typed, I changed the ridiculous contact name to "THOMAS".

Just as I'm thinking about that, the name pops up.

THOMAS

Need a ride today?

I don't hesitate.

Shamefully.

That would be nice
Btw, I think I can finish ur shirt for the date today.

Ohh amazing
Thank you thank you 🙏
I owe you
A new phone
Which I will get
Very soon

Don't

Shush

I swear
Thomas
Buy Teresa a phone
Not me
It still works
It's just the screen
It was my fault

But no matter how much I type, he no longer replies. With a sigh, I continue brushing my hair. It's a bit greasy, so I put it in a bun, two loose strands in my face.

Wide, denim pants, white top, and a short red button-up seem fine for now.

I eat a quick breakfast, bag right next to me. Then it's Willow's turn to have his food, so I give that, then grab my keys. It's only a few minutes after seven o'clock, but there's nothing wrong with being a little early for once. I have time to ask the principal if he knows anything about Mr. Keller yet.

Just as I step outside, Thomas does. Our eyes meet. I wave. He waves back, then crosses the street. "Already want to go?"

He looks so good but so bad.

Bags around his eyes, undone hair— like, it's always messy, but not like this. He put his shirt on the wrong way and his backpack is half open.

"No," I reply. I take his arm, forcing him into the kitchen of my house. "You really couldn't sleep, could you?"

"No, not really," he says.

I wet my hands below the sink and then run them through his hair. It's so soft— not the point. He might feel better if he looks a little more... cared for.

"Turn your shirt around. It's the wrong way," I say.

He blinks a few times, eyes thick and tired. Then the command gets through his head and he obeys to it.

"Have you eaten?"

"No appetite."

"Okay. Let me know if you do need anything." I stick a granola bar in his backpack before zipping it up. "You sure you wanna go to school?"

"I want to know if he's alive. See how everyone else reacts to this," he replies.

I let go of a breath, nodding. "Okay. Let's go." As we walk, I add, "Maybe they don't know anything. I haven't seen any news online, at least."

"Me neither. I spent half of my morning looking."

He rubs his eyelids again, and I sigh again. He's way too tired to go to school.

"Is your mom home?"

"Yes, but she has an early client."

"And your dad?"

"No. At work."

"Are you sure you'll make it at school? You're free to go rest, Thomas. They'll understand. Or I'll cover for you—"

"No. I can't."

"They'll understand," I repeat.

"I mean that I can't rest," he mutters. Little breaths come along with his words, like he's puffing them away. The cold morning air does add an affect to that.

"Aris has sleep pills. Maybe you can get some."

"We have them at home, too. It's fine, Sage. I'll be fine. Haven't gotten that much classes today. I'll be okay."

It doesn't exactly reassure me, but I nod. I can't force him anyway. "Alright, if you say so."

We step into the car. I'm a little scared for how Thomas will drive, but he manages. Once arrived at school, we walk in silence. We both immediately make our way to the principal's office, our thoughts shared.

"Thomas, Viviette," he sees us approach, as the door was wide open. He's a nice man. Can be stern, but nice. With no hair on his head, some wrinkles, and always the same blue jacket. "Are you kids okay? Need to be excused?"

"No. We were wondering if there's any news on Mr. Keller," Thomas says, speaking for both of us.

The principal shakes his head. "Nothing I can share yet..." but I see him hesitate as he looks at us. Especially at Thomas. The dark bags around his eyes, the puffiness in his face. "...but alright. But please do not share this with everyone immediately."

"We promise," I say. My chest gets heavier while we wait for him to speak, anxious. I don't know if the fact he is willing to tell us this is good or bad.

"I've been called last night," he begins. "Unfortunately... he didn't make it. Besides the internal bleedings, the sand was just too heavy on his lungs. I'm sorry."

Somewhere, deep inside, I expected this. And yet the surprise comes so suddenly it hurts for a moment. I stand rooted to the ground for a moment, unsure, then turn to Thomas.

His face is even paler than before. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Just a sharp intake of breath that seems to catch in his throat.

I know Mr. Keller was his favorite teacher because ever since he met him, which was at least four years ago, he hasn't been able to not mention him whenever school was the subject of the conversation. Or sports.

'But Mr. Keller says this' and 'Mr. Keller said I'm allowed to choose what we'll be doing at PE today' and 'I wish I had PE every period'.

The boy blinks a few times before he gives a firm nod. "Alright," his voice comes out surprisingly steady, but at his next words, it cracks, so I'm not able to understand what he's saying.

"Thomas, it's okay if you want to go home rather than stay. Same for you, Viviette," principal Ross speaks.

"No, I'll stay," he says. My hand reaches out to give his a squeeze. "I only have four periods."

"Feel free to leave anytime. I know it's not nothing to lose someone you care about, and especially not if you found them," Mr. Ross says.

"Yes."

Slowly, we walk out of the office. Our hands apart again. I hear Thomas's breaths next to me, unsteady and deep.

"Thomas—"

"No. I'm going to stay," he says, tone a little more harsh now.

I look down. "Okay. Don't overwhelm yourself, though."