Chapter Seven

Ms. Shepens

Everyday, school gets worse and worse. My only refuge or safe haven is at home, cooped up in my tiny bedroom covered with posters and fairy lights like any conventional girl, scrolling through my phone, watching Netflix, and stalking Jake Lloyd's Instagram feed. He either doesn't feel like blocking me or he doesn't care. Boys aren't as obsessed over those types of things as you would think. He is not known for his organization and this results in an inordinate amount of pictures, hundreds and hundreds of them, random and disorganized. I'm pretty sure he's had the app for at least five years or so, at the rate that this is going. Looking at his first post, you can see what he looked like in his youth, just after toddler years but before teenage years, maybe eight or so. His mother must have controlled this account in the beginning. In the picture, he's smiling, holding a chocolate ice cream cone, though there isn't any on his face, surprisingly. I'm trying to go through all of his pictures but it's become a long ordeal.

Once, I accidentally liked a post from four years ago and I started hyperventilating in my room, having my mini version of a panic attack because I made it so obvious that I was stalking him, but I calmed down after the thought that maybe he would notice and think about me in that way. I know, wishful thinking. I'm getting to be pathetic. But I have nothing else to dream about. I stay up for hours until I finally drift off into a restless slumber.

Every morning, when my alarm jumps on my table, buzzing as it vibrates, and wakes me up, I chuck a pillow at something. So far, I've broken my lamp, a glass vase that was once full of flowers, and three picture frames. I don't care anymore. My heart is broken anyway, shattered like the glass on my floor every morning. What does it matter if everything else that is a part of me breaks around me?

At school, I pay attention only when in class. I study more and more and even ask for extra homework, just for the sake of having something to do. My Biology teacher looked at me strangely but produced a packet that I spent three days doing. He gave me extra credit for it and now my grade is above a 100%, boosting my GPA up to a 4.3.

Luka and Shaw say hi to me in the hallways, Luka even pausing once to try to have a conversation with me, but I ignore them. Jake barely looks at me anymore, except to ask for a pencil or something mundane. Clare still talks to me but I don't listen to her chatter because she only ever blabs about Jake. It's always "Jake did this," or "Jake did that," and I can't handle it anymore. Finally, it gets to be too much and I decide to talk to somebody about this. Not my mom, not Clare, not Jake or Luka or Shaw. I can't turn to any of them.

The only person left is Ms Shepens.

I schedule a meeting that takes me out of PE, seeing as it's my least favorite class, and I walk slowly to her office, almost nervous. This won't show up on my school records, right? I don't want to be labeled by my college as being someone who has to get help. Ms. Shepens is the girl's counselor at our school. I take a seat at her bidding and turn to her. She smiles warmly at me and clears her throat, pausing to take her glasses from her chain around her neck and place it over her eyes.

"Megan Peters. Please tell me what the problem is. Or did you just want to talk today?" She clicks a pen and gets out a yellow legal notepad, pen poised and ready to record everything I say. She has my file out too. I can see my name on the yellow manila folder and the thinness of it.

Well, I guess this is going in my records.

"Umm, I've been having a hard few weeks," I start. I'm not sure what else I should say. She's the one who's supposed to be doing the talking, asking me questions and such and making me answer.

"Okay. What's been happening?" she asks. She writes my name at the top of the notepad and the date. She's meticulous with everything and her handwriting is perfect, as I would expect it to be.

"Well, first I broke up with my boyfriend. I've been dating him for two years. I think." I don't even know anymore. I don't care anymore. Carl is like a blip in my life, no matter how big I thought he was on my timeline. I watch as Ms. Shepens writes this down, a pure look of pity on her face. I guess she's gone through some breakups too.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Are counselors supposed to call us honey? Because in my opinion, it's strange and out of place. I just look at her. "And? Is that all?" She looks up at me, her eyes softening.

"Isn't breaking up enough?" I ask. She shrugs but she knows there's more. I sigh. "But no, that's not all. My best friend is dating the guy that I like." I say this without blushing, and this makes me proud. Ms. Shepens records this as well and turns to me.

"Sounds like you're having a hard time with relationships. Have you told your parents?" I automatically lie at this part because then she'll call home and Mom will know that I was here. If she doesn't tell her, then she doesn't need to know. She's going to freak out about it and demand to know all of the details. I don't need anyone to know about this meeting. You only meet with the counselor if you're troubled or need help with something. And yes, maybe that's me, but nobody needs to know that. Least of all my mom, who's so busy and caring and has always looked after me. I don't want to burden her with my menial issues.

"Yeah. My mom knows. She said to talk to you." I am surprised at how easily the lie slips off of my tongue. I was never big on lying, partly because I would feel guilty, and partly because I'm horrible at it and people can always catch me.

"Okay... well, what is it that you want?" She looks confused and I take pity on her, trying to formulate a good answer in my head before speaking.

"I guess... To erase my ex from my mind. Get my best friend back. Date her boyfriend? Maybe." I say this numbly, sure that she feels that it is rehearsed. I cringe. I sound like such a selfish and mean person.

"Okay. Um, well, I don't know how I can really help with this matter." She looks at me helplessly, unsure what to say anymore. She's definitely a relationship advice person.

"Aren't you supposed to be the school counselor? You're supposed to help me. I'm supposed to receive some advice or something on what to do. What am I supposed to do? You're supposed to tell me!" My voice is raising decibel by decibel. I know I'm being unreasonable and even cruel to this lady who's just trying to do her job but I am so angry at people, at life, at the counselor, that I can't help but sound sharp.

"Yes, but Megan. You already know what to do, don't you?" she says kindly.

And I do. I know I do. I just haven't found it yet. It's somewhere deep inside of me and I need to search within myself and find it.

Great, now I sound like a counselor.

"Thanks, Ms. Shepens." I stand up, forcing a smile at her.

"You're welcome, Megan." She smiles at me and waves me away. I leave, but I look back and watch her rip out the sheet of paper she wrote on and throw it away in the wastebasket under her desk.

Maybe it won't go on my records, after all.

I leave smiling.

This is such a bad and wasteful filler chapter that I don't even know why I wrote. Don't worry, the upcoming chapters are muchhh better

malaynaturally xx