Sarah was awoken in the night by a lightning strike outside the window, which illuminated her bedroom for an instant, causing the house to shake with a thunderous sound. She closed her eyes, but sleep would not return to her. Her mind began to wander as the persistent song of heavy rain outside filled her bedroom. She thought about the day she'd had. Somehow, it had been fun. She thought heavily about Horus and Mike, wondering how they could love each other so easily, so effortlessly. She wondered about their families' and home lives. Do they eat dinner with their families every night? Does Jeremy usually eat dinner with his dad? Does he eat at home at all? She wondered, then, about friendship, about if she and them were truly friends now, and if that was what she wanted.

Unnervingly, Sarah reminded herself that she had claimed friendship before. And now, I see him in my nightmares. We saw how poorly that played out; I shouldn't get too comfortable. She saw, then, eerie similarities between now and then. She saw Eric in Horus and Mike and Jeremy. She thought of the times she'd laughed with Eric, the times she'd rough-housed with him, the times they had shared. There was no shortage of bonding memories with him. The memories nearly mirrored the ones she'd made today. Playful banter, small talk... effortless smiles. It was enjoyable, but for Sarah, it was also terrifying. She began to swell with unease, with uncertainty, with pure, sickening fear.

What if they betray me? What if they turn against me? What if they do what Eric did? What if they only hang around me because I'm a girl? Before she knew it, the thundering storm outside had been drained out by her thoughts, by her heavy breathing and clammy palms and sharp chest pains.

Panic attack.

• • •

The rest of Fall Break passed quickly. Sarah was not excited. The intercom at school reminded the students of the assembly that would take place that week. Probably on Friday, the last day of the school week. Curse, she scolded herself silently, I forgot to ask my mom to boy more Uncrustables. That thought made her angry. Well actually, she thought again, it just makes me sad. Wait. She paused for a moment, sitting down at a cafeteria table, waiting for the first school bell to ring. I thought 'curse', didn't I? I'm just turning into Horus, aren't I? She chuckled, oh, woe is me.

The bell eventually rang. Strange, she thought as she stood. Jeremy usually sits by me. But we have our first hour together- maybe he's just running late? It didn't take long for her to reach her class. She sat down in her usual seat, dreading the day before her, and Jeremy walked in mere moments later. He caught her gaze, then, frantically looked down at his feet. Sarah stared him up and down, confused, concerned, and her eyes locked on marks that littered his arm- dark, yellowish bruises. He sat down beside her, avoiding her eyes and saying nothing. He pulled a jacket from his bag and put it on, although it was not particularly cold in the classroom.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, voice unsteady. Silence. She thought long and hard about how he always did this, about how he would refuse to talk to her; she knew, she understood, and yet, Sarah was angry. Incredibly, undeniably angry. "The one day you decide to shut up," she murmured.

He slowly and cautiously looked up at her, "Do you mean, you like it better when I talk?"

"I don't like it by any means," she said, "But it's better than whatever you're doing right now." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as Sarah studied him curiously.

He trembled as he spoke, "My- my dad doesn't want me talking to you." Shock. A simple moment of ease, of calm, and then, all at once, the familiar fury struck her.

Sarah growled, "What? He said that?" Slowly, Jeremy nodded. "He doesn't get to dictate who you talk to," she said.

"But if I don't obey him-"

"Then what, Jeremy?" She hissed, desperate to make him understand. "Then what?" The bell rang. Jeremy didn't respond. Sarah sighed deeply, desperate to ease the constant emotions she felt now, desperate to not be worried for once in her life. She thought about the school year so far, about how much had happened in just a few months. Horus, Mike, and Jeremy. Then Jacob's sorry ass, and Tracy, who'd become a familiar acquaintance to Sarah. All of the fights she had been in ran through her mind, as well. She had a feeling that there would be more. Her mind lingered on the thought of Eric and the text he'd sent her. Want to hang out tonight?

Only an evil person would suggest such a thing, she thought, then suddenly was struck, I hung out with Jeremy and Horus and Mike. It was okay, wasn't it? It wasn't bad? They aren't Eric. I don't need to worry, do I? The ghost of a memory haunted her, following her from her bad days to her good ones. I just want to forget about it. Sarah inhaled deeply, and then, tuned in to the lesson, to the assignment, to the school around her, pushing the overwhelming emotions down and out of sight. Close them up. Throw away the key. You're unwavering, unsinkable. Get your shit together. You are fine.

You're fine, Sarah.

She glanced back at Jeremy, wondering suddenly if he needed help with the assignment that they had been given. He held his arms over his head, stretching, yawning. He must be just as tired as I am, she thought. Something caught her eye- a dark patch along his belly button as his shirt lifted ever so slightly. A dark patch? ...A bruise? Bruises on an arm... bruises on a face... bruises on a stomach... Has this gone too far? If Jeremy is fine- is he fine? If he's fine, then does it matter? Sarah found herself arguing the dilemma over in her head frequently these days. Sarah grew lost to the thoughts, fretting, and before she knew it, the class had ended. They walked together to their next one.

"Are we friends?" Sarah asked. "I mean- are you actually not going to talk to me?"

"I'll still talk to you." For some reason, Sarah felt relief.

"Jeremy..."

"Yeah?"

"Do you have bruises on your stomach, too?" He shied away from the question, and Sarah knew the answer internally. "Jeremy, we have to do something."

"No, we don't," he said quietly.

"I'm not just going to sit back and watch your body turn black and blue, Jeremy. You're going to get yourself killed."

"Don't talk about my dad like that," he growled, "He loves me. He just has some things he has to work through."

"He doesn't love you if he hurts you," Sarah whispered.

"You hurt me," Jeremy said.

"I don't love you," she said.

"Oh."

"I don't leave you bruised."

"You did once."

"I didn't know you then."

"But you had some problems you had to work through," He said, "Didn't you? What were they?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Are the rumours true, Sarah?" He asked, a curious glow in his eyes. "Did you do those things? I've always wondered... I've never wanted to ask."

"They're a twisted truth," she said simply, "Like what Mike does at times."

"What's the truth, then?" He asked, concerned now. Sarah turned, and simply stared at him.

She said, "You know how it is, Jeremy. You know what it's like to have a secret. I'm going to keep mine."

"But you don't have to," he said, "If it would help you."

"No," she said, suddenly ridden again with thoughts of the past, of the forbidden memory. "It wouldn't help me."

"I know something that will help you," he said. Then, grinning widely as he always did, "A dance routine!"

"Excuse me?"

"You never answer our texts," he huffed dramatically, "But me, Horus, and Mike planned out a dance routine for the talent show. We just have to learn it."

"Oh, no," she said, "That would do the opposite of help me. That would- that would traumatize me."

"You agreed already, didn't you?"

"I didn't."

"Well you gotta!"

She groaned, wanting his annoying voice to disappear, "Okay, fine. I'll do it." Jeremy bounced with glee. Sarah truly didn't want to participate, but she had another thought that if they had after-school practices, then Jeremy would have less time at home. And besides, she thought with amusement, maybe Mike and Horus aren't all that bad.

The week passed grudgingly slowly. Assignment after assignment after assignment. Sarah's grades began to slip to B's and C's, so she tried to focus on her classes, and worked a bit harder on her assignments. It didn't seem to help. She was dissatisfied with life, and more apparent recently, she had grown an unrelenting loneliness. School days were fine, but at home, she seemed constantly alone. Her mother was always working; most days, they didn't even see each other.

Sarah also worried for Jeremy's safety constantly. She wondered, if one day, he would just never show up to class again. But every day he did. And every day, he had a new bruise or cut on his arm or leg or abdomen or face. They healed quickly, and nobody seemed to notice, as the major ones were covered up by his clothes. But Sarah noticed. Sarah noticed his change in attitude, his shift in gate, and she noticed where he was hurting, and she noticed the new scratches on his forehead, and she noticed the small blood stain on the back of his shoe.

Sarah pulled him over after class one day.

"I don't understand you. Why don't you want the cops involved?" Sarah asked quietly. Students bustled around them noisily. "They can help you."

Jeremy fretted, avoiding her eyes, "You don't understand. You never will..." Sarah attempted to keep calm. She breathed slowly, counting in between exhales and inhales, but the anger had been bottled for far too long.

"You're right! I don't understand! So help me understand! Help me make sense of all of this. Of all of this," Sarah gripped his arm and showed him the shallow bruises lining it. Jeremy ripped his arm away from her.

"Because I love him!" He cried. "I love my dad, and I can't lose him! He loves me, too. He would never hurt me."

Sarah lowered her voice dangerously, "Jeremy, he does hurt you. All the time!"

Jeremy repeated desperately, "He's my dad! I can't lose him!"

"And I can't lose you." Jeremy paused, stunned, his eyes glimmering with both worry and joy.

"What?"

"I worry every day and every night that there will be a day that you don't show up for class. That today will be the last day I ever get to see you," She wanted to hit him, to hurt him, to release her anger, to make him understand somehow. But instead, she turned around, slammed her locker shut, and stormed away. A small crowd had surrounded them, and they began to disperse as Sarah walked away fuming. How could anyone ever be okay with this? How does he not see what's wrong? How can he think it's normal, that it's love?

She paused. How could he think...She breathed deeply, shakily, as the thought slowly came to her. How could she think it was love? It blinds you. I know that better than anyone. Love blinds you- you think they won't ever hurt you, even as they do. But you're wrong. He's wrong- Jeremy is wrong. And maybe I have to show that to him. She knew that she could never get the cops involved unless Jeremy allowed her to. So, I'll just convince him.

• • •

"I'm sorry," Jeremy said. They sat at their lunch table together, Horus and Mike beside them. "For the other day. You were just looking out for me. I appreciate it. But I'm fine, honest."

"It's alright," Sarah sighed. Maybe I shouldn't worry about it... He says he's fine. He's fine, isn't he? Aren't I fine, too?

Mike piped up, "Us four should hangout this weekend again."

Horus nodded, "At the assembly, as well."

"I have a lot of assignments to do, though," Mike confessed. "It's stressful, you know?"

"Nobody cares," Sarah droned.

"I care," Jeremy said, "...About nothing!" He fist-bumped Sarah with a smug grin.

"Ha- Ha," Mike mocked with a sour expression, his nose wrinkled, "You two are just so funny."

"You're just mad you aren't, Sweaty," Sarah said.

"Why would I want to be sweaty?"

"No- I don't mean we are. I meant- I called you that. It's an insult."

"You know what else is an insult?"

"What?"

"Your face," Mike smirked and fist-bumped Horus.

"Oh, you rude-ass..."

"You started it."

"Fair enough," She shrugged.

"What do you guys think they make the school food out of?" Jeremy asked suddenly. "It looks like recycled plastic half of the time."

"It probably is," Sarah said.

"They serve nothing but poison," Horus said woefully through a mouth full of food.

"Aren't you... eating school lunch right now?" Jeremy asked, eyes concerned.

"No," He said suspiciously, slowly pulling the tray onto his lap behind the table top, out of sight. "I'm not eating anything. What a horrendous accusation."

"Right..." Sarah said.

"If I die," he said, "Send me out to sea dramatically, write songs with my name," he turned to Mike, who seemed skeptical, "And I fully expect you to poison yourself if I die, in the name of love. A true Romeo and Juliet tragedy."

"Course, I'll do that," Mike said with a grin, "Anything for you." The bell rang sooner than Sarah had expected, and they all stood, walking together to throw their trash away, continuing the conversation.

"I found the biggest spider in my house the other day," Mike was saying over the buzz of all the other students. "It was this big," he held up a circle the size of his dark, chiseled face.

"The demon I saw?" Horus asked quizzically. Mike nodded.

"Did you kill it?" Jeremy asked in both awe and fear, eyes wide.

"Horus did," Mike said confidently.

Horus neared Sarah, and whispered, "I didn't kill it." Sarah laughed at that.

The rest of the school day seemed to pass her by quickly. Somehow, she managed to pay attention in her classes, and even complete a few assignments. She hoped they'd be enough to raise her grades. Sarah walked silently with Horus to the busses after school just as she usually did.

"Have you finished the English essay?" He asked. Sarah nodded, not caring for small talk. "Could you be so kind as to share it with me?"

"You're struggling to write an essay?" She asked, scoffing, "You?"

He nodded solemnly, "So it seems. The subject is exponentially difficult."

"But writing is your thing."

"Only whenever I want to write," he corrected.

Sarah sighed, "Yeah, it's okay, I'll share it with you."

"Thank you," he said. They said goodbye, and parted ways to get on their busses. Sarah sighed as she sat down in her usual seat at the back of the bus. This was always the time of day where she was the most exhausted- her body ached with hunger, and her head throbbed agonizingly. I've been getting more headaches recently, haven't I? She thought. Probably Jeremy's fault. The headaches were frequent and constant, disturbing her in class almost every day. She wondered if ibuprofen could fix the problem. It couldn't be healthy to take so many painkillers so often, though, she decided. Desperate, Sarah pulled out her phone as the bus began to rumble. It pulled out of the school parking lot, and into the road, though she didn't seem to notice. She searched for remedies for her headaches.

Pain killers.
A nap.
Drink water.
Take a shower.
Ear piercings.

She considered each option. Pain killers are what we are trying to avoid. I can't exactly sleep in class, nor shower, and I bring a water bottle to school- I'm already drinking lots of water and it doesn't seem to help. She eyed the last option, wondering about it, wondering if piercing her ears could help solve the problem. It would be pretty cool, she thought.

The bus arrived at her house a few minutes earlier than normal, and Sarah promptly got off, wanting nothing more than to take an after-school nap. And so, she did. Only two hours had passed by the time she'd awoken, and she was thoroughly upset that she'd missed the golden hour and would have to do her chores in the dark. Her headache was gone now, however. She did her chores quickly.

Sarah sat on the floor of her bedroom. She didn't have a reason for doing so; it simply felt right. Gentle moonlight had begun to peak through the clouds outside, refracting in the old window panes. Tomorrow is the assembly day, she reminded herself woefully, the last day of the week. I don't want to go... but my mom would never let me skip. She doesn't have time to babysit. She wasn't feeling tired by now as she usually was, thanks to her nap, and she wondered what to do with her time. Ideas rolled in her mind, but Sarah was still stuck on ear piercings. It didn't take much research for her to learn all about daith piercings, and how they can help with migraines. She wondered if it was something she could do herself, at home. It's too risky, she decided, but I could probably do a tragus piercing myself... The idea stuck, and she wondered curiously, will my mom be mad? Would she even notice?

Probably not. She's never even home to see it.

Sarah slank to her mother's bedroom, and began to shuffle through her jewelry box. A few moments of searching, and she held up a small, silver studded earring in victory. She pulled ice from the freezer to numb her ear, and watched herself cautiously in the bathroom mirror as she pierced it. To her surprise, it still hurt; the ice had only numbed the surface of her ear, and the numbness didn't last for very long. She cleaned it, and admired it, and although it throbbed with soreness, it was bearable and went away quickly. I did this, she thought proudly. It was important that she controlled herself, did things herself, and was who she was. Somehow, it was as if this piercing proved that. It was as if it said, look what I can do myself, look what I can control. Me. Sarah struggled, these days, to be in control of herself. Her emotions wandered mercilessly and to their own devices, and she felt as though her body was no longer hers. This piercing, she thought admirably, proves that my body is mine.

She not only admired the piercing, but her hair in the mirror as well. She wondered what it would be like to dye it, the curly mullet on her head that never sat quite right. Or I could bleach it, she thought. That would be good... I could design it how I wanted to, do with my hair what I please. Who's going to stop me? She decided, then, to stay up for the first time ever until her mother got home. She could ask her mother then if she could get her hair bleached, too. She wondered again if her mother would notice the ear piercing.

Thoughts tumbled throughout her mind as a never ending rain, full of different emotions that she could never place quite right. I never know how I'm feeling, she sighed, but it sure is a lot. She stared at the ceiling for a while, tempting to turn off her bedroom light and admire the moonlight against her walls, against her skin. She decided against it, figuring the darkness would make her tired. She played on her phone some, and daydreamt some. The night seemed to drone on miserably, agonizingly, as if her mother would never come home, as if the night would never end. Sarah enjoyed how peaceful nighttime was, but now, it seemed nothing but boring and slow. Eventually, however, she heard the door creak itself open, and slam shut. Excitedly, Sarah sat up out of bed, but was promptly glued in place by not one, but two voices echoing in her livingroom. She recognized her mother, and her mother's girlfriend, Linda. Maybe she just picked her up on her way home? Sarah thought, standing quietly, and nearing her doorway, listening intently.

Her mother laughed, "I had such a great time tonight."

"Me, too," Linda said sheepishly. "Again tomorrow?"

"Of course, as always," she said.

"What time are you off work tomorrow?" Linda asked. Not until midnight, Sarah thought woefully.

"Around 8, same as usual."

Sarah's heart suddenly became aware of itself, and seemed to stop entirely. She thought she could actually feel her blood drain from her shoulders and down to her toes, like a faucet had just been turned on. She recognized this as a sharp, painful emotion. Disbelief. What?

"Alright, I'll pick you up round then," Linda said. There was a bit more conversation, some laughing, and a kiss that Sarah didn't focus on. The door opened and shut again. Sarah was so used to feeling rage follow her grief, follow her disbelief, follow all of her emotions, rhat now, as she simply felt stunned, simply felt that first simple and painful feeling, she felt hollow. Empty. Without the anger, without the rage, she felt simply an empty disappointment. Slowly, Sarah stepped out of her bedroom, and then into the livingroom.

"Oh, honey, what are you doing still awake?" Her mother asked with a frown, "It's a school night."

"Why did Linda say that?" Sarah asked, ignoring what her mother had said.

"Said what, love?" There it is, Sarah thought, actively feeling the disappointment sizzle and dissipate, replaced with a burning hot hatred.

"You get off of work at 8," Sarah said, "You told me you don't get off until midnight."

"Oh, honey," her mother started, looking saddened, "I'm sorry. But I wanted to make time for Linda..."

"And you couldn't have told me that?" Sarah was nearly shouting now, the rage, the hate, the disbelief and grief all bubbling hotter with each passing minute, taking control of her actions entirely. Her mother's face changed from simple sadness, to desperate, and Sarah knew she would try to weasel her way out of this confrontation. She will do what she always does, Sarah thought, eyes narrowed, and shove the blame on someone else if she gets put on the spot.

"I'm trying," her mother pleaded desperately, "Honey, I'm working all the time to provide this place for us."

"You're not working!" Sarah spat aggressively. "You go out and have fun with that new girlfriend of yours, and don't even bother to tell me! You leave your only child home alone constantly, day after day, and when you have time to be with her you decide not to!"

"It's because she's a girl," she sighed, "That's what this is about? You don't approve?" There it is. It's my fault, just as it always is, isn't it?

Sarah grew infuriated, now, and her thoughts became fast-paced and dangerous, bubbling out through her mouth in the form of loud words, "You're not listening to me! That doesn't mean anything to me! It's like you don't even care about me anymore!"

"That's not true-"

"Where were you whenever Eric raped me, Mom? Where were you then? When I needed to be picked up afterwards, where were you? You weren't there! You weren't even there! A stranger took me home, Mom. I was raped, and a stranger took me home." Sarah couldn't express what she felt with only words, holding fists clenched, her face hot and red with tears running down it now. She wanted desperately to hurt something, to hit someone, to inflict the pain she felt internally. She knew, now, that all of this had been bubbling inside of her and had been continuously pushed down by her for so long. It felt oddly relieving, to yell, to say how she felt for once in her life. It felt as though she was in control.

"I was trying to make a living for us!" She sniped, "Maybe you shouldn't have gone to that party! Maybe you shouldn't have been friends with a rapist. Maybe you shouldn't have disobeyed me and drank."

"Are you kidding me?" She said, "I didn't drink a thing, only Eric did. And he wasn't a rapist until he did that. How was I ever supposed to know?" The anger grew, and grew, and grew, until it was entirely gone. Sarah felt the emptiness, the hollowness she had before. "Do you really think that low of me?"

"I'm ashamed," her mother said, "That you think that low of me."

"You need to get over yourself. This isn't about you anymore. It never has been for anyone but you."

"What are you saying, Sarah? I've raised you. Me. All by myself."

"Boyfriend, after boyfriend, after boyfriend," Sarah growled. "And now Linda. You only feel by yourself now because you ran away from me. Not that it matters. Not that you even care. Because if I turn out bad, it's my fault anyways."

"You don't understand how much it hurts for you to say that, after all the things I've done for you."

"You don't understand how much it hurts," Sarah said, "To ask a stranger to take you home from a party, because your own mother isn't reachable. Where were you? Out with your girlfriend? Were you really working?"

Sarah's mom's face welled up, and then, shifted into strict anger, "I'm done hearing about this. We sent that boy to jail. I spent money to make sure of it."

"He's not in jail, Ma," Sarah said, "He got out recently."

"You can't possibly know that."

"He texted me."

"And you didn't bother to tell me that? Sarah, you don't think that's important?"

"You always tell me that it's not." A prolonged and heavy silence pursued, and Sarah took it as a right time to leave. She couldn't stand to be close to her mother any longer, and walked back to her bedroom, closing the door all the way behind her, and turning off the light. It took what felt like forever for sleep to come to her. She reluctantly woke up, already exhausted, but was pleased to find that there was no headache, no pain in her temple. None other than emotional, that is.

On the bus ride, she thought a long while about last night's events. They'd played in her mind on repeat as she attempted to sleep, and now, they did again. I should have said this. I should have said that. I should just speak my mind. I should just not speak at all.

Maybe I don't know, she thought. Maybe I just don't know what the right option is. Maybe I never will. She felt suffocated in the thoughts, and seemed to carry the weight with her for the entirety of the day.

Fuck, she thought suddenly. We still need more Uncrustables.

The day started as it usually did. The days always started as they usually did. The days were nothing but repetition with drama sprinkled amongst the pages. Sarah seemed to like it that way. Boring, and repetitive. That way I know what to expect. That way I don't have to worry. Yet, the important things seemed to be the least repetitive ones. She seemed to be facing unexpected challenges and horrible surprises every day, and the boring things always remained predictable. I wouldn't mind getting a change in assignments, she thought, but I want the no drama thing to be more consistent.

She stepped off of the bus, and waited patiently in the cafeteria for Jeremy, brooding. She thought about her mother. How could she say that to me? Does she believe it was my fault? And... was it? If I had said no... I don't remember if I ever said no. Did I ever even tell him to stop? What if it wasn't rape? What if it was my fault?

Jeremy sat down beside her without her noticing. She did perk up, however, to a stranger standing by their table. She was dark-toned, though lighter than Sarah, with curly dark brown hair pulled back into two low pigtails. The most apparent thing about her, however, was her eye set- black, low cut mascara, and slightly down turned, large eyes, that spoke, I'm annoyed.

"Can I sit here?" She asked. Her voice was low, and echoed her eyes perfectly. She seemed bothered with having to ask, and Sarah seemed bothered by her mere existence, and yet, curious, so she nodded yes.

"What's your name?" Jeremy asked, eyes wide, admiring the spiked choker she wore. Sarah could do nothing but glare at him.

"Suzie," she said, pulling her phone out. It was apparent she didn't want anyone else to bother her.

"Are you new here?" Jeremy asked.

She raised an eyebrow, "No?"

"My friend is new," he said, "She just came this year. I'm Jeremy by the way. And that's Sarah." Sarah groaned quietly in sharp annoyance. Does he really have to make friends with everyone he meets? Does he really have to give out my name like that? Jeremy continued, "Really, we're all new. Since this is a new year for all of us. Unless you flunked, I guess, ha ha." Without missing a beat, the girl stood from her seat, and left the table. Jeremy's eyes morphed from confusion, to sadness. At first, Sarah thought, that's the right choice. And then, hey, wait, that was really rude of her, wasn't it?

"Sorry, Jeremy," Sarah said, "She probably had somewhere else to be."

"She seemed so cool though," he huffed.

Sarah rolled her eyes, "You'll probably see her again. I think we have a class or two with her."

"Really?" Sarah nodded.

"Plus," Sarah said, deciding silently, "Maybe she had the right idea. Maybe it's better to leave someone you don't like so you don't lead them on."

"I guess I get that," he sighed woefully, "But don't you like, hate me?"

Sarah chuckled, "Yeah, basically. But I think you can hate someone and care about them at the same time."

"Like my dad?"

"No. Not like your dad."

"Then what do you mean?"

Sarah sighed, trying to find the words, "I mean like me. You know, you annoy me. You bother me all the time. But I still hang around. I still let you hang around with me. And I enjoy it, sometimes, and that's because I care about you. Your dad... well, if he didn't like you, but you didn't know he didn't like you, then that would mean he cares about you."

"I thought you said you didn't love me?"

"I don't. You can care about someone without loving them. Love is an overrated thing, anyways."

"Oh," he said, "I guess I wouldn't know. I think I love everyone as soon as I meet them."

"Jeremy."

"Yeah?"

"You always say your dad loves you. But do you love him, even after everything?"

The bell rang. Curse, she thought.

"How come Horus and Mike don't sit by us?" Jeremy asked as they stood.

"You know, before they sat with us, they sat with their other friends at lunch. They still like to see them in the mornings, I think."

"Why don't we sit by them?" Jeremy suggested.

Sarah shrugged, "Just never cared to. You could if you wanted to, though."

"I think I prefer to sit with you," he said plainly. Sarah was suddenly shocked by those words, but refused to show it, and said nothing else.