"Ray, I don't understand why you're being so weird about this! She smacked me, I'm fine, move on!"

Her friend exhaled, turning to look at her as he turned off the car. "No, Adira, that is not the issue here. She hit you, twice, not okay, and you should really tell someone. But that's not what I'm talking about. You're acting weird, okay? I'm worried!"

"Well don't be," she sighed. "I'm fine."

"Oh, well now that that's cleared up." The sarcasm was laced with genuine concern and even a little fear. "I know you, and I know you haven't been yourself lately."

"How so?"

"You've been more stressed out than usual, you've been quiet, I always get the impression you're hiding something from me, and you're way overly defensive whenever I bring literally anything up."

"I'm not overly defensive," she argued. "I swear you freak out everytime I stub my toe. I'm an athlete... I get scraped up, that's normal."

"Getting punched by your teammate is not normal, Adira."

"That's not the only thing you flip out about!"

"I'm sorry, when exactly have I flipped out, الصغير?" he asked. "Because that's not exactly what I would call a casual question about what you did to hurt yourself."

"It's flipping out when you don't believe the answer I give you," she groaned.

"Have I said that I don't believe you?"

"You don't have to."

He exhaled heavily, and a long moment of silence stretched between them. "It's not that I don't believe you," he said at length. "It's just that I know there's something you're not telling me."

"Ray, there is n..."

"If you want me to stop freaking out about little things, all you have to do is tell me what's going on."

Adira let his words hang in the air. Maybe if she gave a little, he'd leave her alone. The last thing she needed was him figuring out that she had a secret. If she told him something, anything, maybe it would throw him off the trail.

"My parents are just stressing me out, okay?" she said softly at long length. "More than usual. They freak out about everything. They make me late to school all the time and then they lecture me for being late. It's just a lot to put up with."

"I know, Addi," he sighed, his nickname for her from their childhood. "I don't mean to make you feel like I'm helicopter friending you."

"Helicopter friending?" she asked, the ghost of a smile touching her face.

"Yeah, it's a thing now, I just made it up."

She shook her head a little before returning to the prior subject. "I'm sorry I got mad. You didn't deserve that."

"You don't need to apologize," he replied quietly. "As long as you promise me that's all that's going on."

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I promise."

"Okay." He let out a long breath. "Then you can go."

"Thanks for the ride, Ray." She hesitated before adding, "Thanks for everything."

He smiled. "Anything for you, كيدو."

Time-Skip Sponsored by the One Ring

"The last thing this family needs right now is for you to go through this ridiculous rebellion."

Despite loathing slavery, Lincoln embraced emancipation as a war objective late and with great caution. Why?

"I will be emailing your Literature teacher and informing him that we do not make you late, and if we did we would have good reason, and that is our business and our business alone as your parents."

The Emancipation Proclamation did not accomplish the destruction of slavery on its own. How did a war over union bring about the end of slavery?

"We've got a game tomorrow, Rhodes. Hope you've thought about what I said."

In addition to restoring the Union and destroying slavery, what other significant changes did the war produce on the home front and in the nation's capital?

Adira's mind was bouncing back and forth between the worst moments of the day and the review worksheet in front of her so quickly that it was giving her a headache. It felt like every question took ten times the effort it should, because she was also contemplating every way her life was rapidly falling to pieces.

That morning, her parents hadn't even waited until after her workout to start in. The moment she walked in to give them Reagan, they were talking and didn't stop until ten minutes after she should have left for school, straight through the workout time they were so adamant about her never missing. She'd predicted that her teacher asking them to stop making her late would only make things worse, and she'd been one-hundred percent right. Half of the lecture which would then make her late again was spent ripping into her about "taking responsibility for her own actions".

And worst of all, since she'd been planning on showering again, as usual, after her workout, she hadn't yet ditched her hoodie and applied her makeup to her arm. And since neither of those things had happened, she had no makeup, it was seventy degrees outside, and she was still in that hoodie.

But this was her last class before lunch, and then she could go lock herself in a stall and get the makeup on for cheer practice.

As she struggled through the last question on the worksheet, Rolys made his rounds returning last week's quiz. As he slid hers in front of her and she flipped it right side up, her relief at the usual 10 written at the top vanished in an instant. Because under that, was a sticky note and her teacher's handwriting.

Can I talk to you for a minute after class?

****.

What had she done?

There was no universe in which this was a good thing.

She could be in trouble. Unlikely, particularly with Rolys and particularly as she was 99% sure she'd done nothing wrong, but she was getting gun shy from her parents, and getting in trouble was always a possibility.

More likely, he was worried.

About what?

She wasn't the only student to ever wear a hoodie on a warm day. It could have been chilly that morning.

It wasn't, but it could have been.

It couldn't be about the hoodie.

But what if it was?

****.

She was dead. No matter how this ended, she was dead.

Panic welled up in her chest, a feeling of anxiety she'd never known before, but ever since the burns had started appearing on her skin, had become familiar to her.

If her parents found out about this, she was dead.

And even if they didn't, she was screwed.

As much as she didn't want it to be, she knew that anxiety was all over her face, and she knew her teacher was probably watching for her reaction.

So she did what she could and slid the quiz into her binder like it was just a quiz with no note that was about to give her a panic attack.

"You look like you just saw a ghost."

She jolted upright to meet James's gaze from across the room.

"Did little miss ten out of ten fail a quiz?"

The two of them were constantly bantering, so Adira struggled desperately for a good response.

"No, she got that ten out of ten. She was just imagining what it must be like for you to get these quizzes back."

He rolled his eyes and flipped his paper to face her. An eight was drawn at the top. "Not quite."

"Miraculous, considering the lack of attention you pay in class."

He exhaled a smile he couldn't help, so she did her best to return the expression.

She was absolutely dead.

She turned her eyes back to her paper and finished the last sentence, then dully walked it to the stack on Rolys's desk. She kept her eyes locked on the carpet every step of the way.

Back in her seat, her binder was still open, taunting her with the note. She snapped it shut just a little too urgently, took a deep breath, and picked up her phone.

She felt like she was going to puke.

This was really, really, really not good.

Her finger found Instagram and started to scroll, but she wasn't registering anything she was seeing.

Ten minutes passed and managed to feel like ten seconds and ten hours at the exact same time, before the bell rang. Adira joined the shuffle of packing up backpacks just to look and feel productive, but did it slowly. She'd just finished zipping her bag when the last of her classmates filed out of the room.

Then, still seated, she forced her eyes up to her teacher's. "You wanted to talk to me?"

He nodded a little as he grabbed a chair and placed it across from her. "You're not in trouble."

"Okay..." As horrible as that prospect was, it not being the verdict was also somehow what she'd been afraid of.

"I'm gonna level with you, Adira," he said evenly. "I'm worried about you."

****.

"I know you don't talk about it a lot because you don't want special attention," he continued. "But you're in an extremely difficult situation, and you're under a lot of pressure."

It was taking all of her effort just to hold his gaze, so she remained silent, and allowed her teacher to press ahead.

"When you're in that position, and under so much pressure, and I notice bruises on your face and an unusual amount of injuries on your arms, it makes me worry."

****.

She was dead. The anxiety had frozen, keeping her in a perpetual state of realization that this was quickly spiraling into the worst case scenario.

It was like she could see Inside Out's "Fear" inside her head, running around, screaming, pulling levers and pushing buttons and trying to make her abort mission, but there was nothing she could do to get out of this.

"But you're an athlete, and athletes get hurt," Rolys went on, "So I did my best to believe the explanations you gave me."

He hesitated, like he was choosing every word with the utmost care. "And then all those injuries disappeared, suddenly. And then there was a spot of makeup the color of your skin on your desk after class. And then you got really quiet in class, and you didn't stop shaking for an entire period. And then you walked in today in a hoodie when it's been seventy outside since seven o'clock this morning, and you were really quiet again. And all you'll ever tell me is you're stressed or tired, but fine. And at this point.." He spread his hands a little. "I know you're not."

"Rolys..." Why was her voice so small? "I swear, I'm alright. I'm sorry I've been so distracted in class, but really, I'm fine."

He exhaled slowly, but nodded a little. "And I can't make you tell me any different. But I have a responsibility as your teacher to ask you to do something. I don't enjoy it, and I hope you'll forgive me for it, but I care about you too much to not."

All Adira could comprehend was how not good this was.

"I need to ask you to show me your arms."

Despite the gentleness of the request, the impending panic exploded inside of her, and she was left struggling to keep it off of her face and somehow think through what she needed to say next.

She felt her brows knitting in confusion before she'd fully realized that was the course she'd chosen. "Rolys, my... my arms? I was in short sleeves on Monday."

He nodded steadily. "And I found makeup on your desk on Monday."

"From my face..." She tried, and he inclined his head slightly.

"Maybe. You have been covering up cuts and bruises on your face." He let that statement hang for a second before adding, "Adira, I know you're smart enough to see why I'm worried, even if it's misplaced. You're smart enough to see why I need to see your arms or walk you to the nurse's office so you can show them to her."

"I swear I... I..." But there was nothing she could say.

He continued to meet her terrified gaze with a concerned calmness. "I want to be here for you," he told her quietly. "I want to be a part of this process. If you show me now, no matter who else we need to talk to, I will be a part of it. If you don't, and I go to the nurse having no idea if my concerns are well-founded, she'll thank me and send me away and I'll be banished from the process."

He leaned forward, hands on the table between them.

"I am on your side, and I will walk with you if you'll let me."

She said nothing. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.

"Just let me see your arms," her teacher pressed, "And I will stick with you, no matter what is there when you do."

She'd made excuses before, she could make them again. Rolys would be much quicker to listen to her than a school nurse she'd never even met. Delaying further would only make it more suspicious.

She swallowed hard. "I... right." Her right hand moved to her left cuff. "I mean, of course. It's just..." Before she could think and stop, her hand pulled down the sleeve. "I can explain."