Hey guys. So. I've been largely off of Wattpad for almost two months. I don't even know or want to know how long it's been since I updated this book. I'm sorry. I know it's the same stupid song with every dang update and every dang time I disappear, but I just... I love Wattpad and everyone on here, and it honestly does make me sick to be so flakey. My life's just kind of a mess right now. It really sucks to be in the performing arts right now, and thanks to the trashed economy, I even lost my minimum wage job and it took me a month to find a new one... and now that one is such a toxic environment that I don't know if I can last through month I'm supposed to have it for (seasonal position). On top of that, anxiety is a witch and it's made it impossible to write even when I have a minute to do it. I've had this part half-finished forever because I just... couldn't get it done. But I'm fine, seriously... I'm not saying any of this to make y'all feel bad for me, because I'm really really okay. I just want you guys to know that I'm not done with this website. I'm going to keep loving the community and updating my stories and writing new ones... I've just, yeah, been a mess lately... I mean even more of one that usual. So thank you so much for sticking with me. I'll try to get it together soon.

What seemed like a hundred questions later, Ms. Marshall finally looked up from the clipboard in her hand.

"Well," she sighed. "I don't think you were being completely honest with me, but I also don't think we need to put you on suicide watch at this time."

A wave of relief washed over her. At least that was one less thing she had to worry about.

Ellis nodded a little. "Alright. Thank you, Ms. Marshall. But, Adira, if you ever do have a desire to end your life, you've gotta reach out. You have that card that Stephens gave you. If you can, though, call Joel, or grab someone at school... me, Mr. Rolys, another teacher or coach. And if you're in immediate danger, call 911 or go to Officer Stephens, just like he told you."

As she had before, she nodded without meaning it in the slightest.

"Good." He sighed slowly. "Ms. Marshall, unless there's anything else you want to say or see done, I'll let you go."

The psychologist nodded, bid a quick goodbye, and left.

"Now I'm gonna call Joel," Ellis told Adira when she was gone. "Just to let him know what happened. Given your test results, I'm not gonna make him come down, but I'd like you to stick around at least until I'm off the phone with him, okay?"

She hesitated. Begging was getting so old, and it had always been so futile, but she just... she had to try.

"Do you have to call him?" The question came out horribly small.

He nodded, but as usual, where she swore he should be meeting her with annoyance, he met her with compassion. "I know this is hard for you, Adira. But it's just like we talked about earlier... you can't do this on your own. I'm just trying to help you learn how to do anything else."

He picked up the phone, and she knew it was over, allowing her head to come to rest back in her hands.

Ellis's side of the conversation which followed was drowned out by a million screaming voices inside her head.

How had something that she'd been wanting for months now turned into yet another living nightmare?

That was just her life anymore.

She looked up several minutes later at a tap on her arm, to find Ellis holding out the phone to her. "He'd like to talk to you."

Dread clenched in her chest as she hesitantly took the receiver and raised it to her ear. She didn't know what to expect from him anymore. He'd always loved with no logic or limits, but she was so used to her parents...

"Hello?" The word came out so quiet she wasn't even sure if it would carry to his end.

"Hello, Darling." His tone was gentle, sad. "I just wanted to let you know I'm on my way over there."

That dread tightened, joined by yet another wave of panic. "No, no, it's okay, he cleared me. You don't have to..."

"I know I don't have to," he replied evenly. "Eliis didn't even mention it. I'm not doing this because I have to... I'm doing it because I want to. Alright?"

"Seriously, Joel," she tried desperately. "I'm fine. I don't know what happened back there, but I... I..."

"Adira," he sighed. "I think I know you well enough to know that you are going to go home and beat yourself up over this... hard. And I just... the idea of you in an empty house, with no one to back you up against all the lies Satan is going to be feeding you... I just don't want you to be alone."

It was the same thing he'd said the other day. But she was always alone. It didn't matter where she was or who she was with... she always felt isolated, apart, trapped in her own head.

"I swear," she managed to choke out. "I'll be okay. I've bothered you quite enough this week, and..."

"Hey." Like Ellis had possessed earlier, there was a firmness in his tone without losing any of the gentleness. "You have got to stop thinking of yourself like that. I care about you very much, and this is all I want to do right now. Yeah?"

She didn't answer, but he took that as what it was... her giving up on arguing though she couldn't agree with what he just said.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," he sighed. "Hang in there, Love."

Ellis spent those ten minutes talking her through ways that she could work through what he called the "wave" of desire to self-harm. He gave her a list a mental health organization had compiled of things to do instead of self-harm, and he told her to stop by his office Monday morning, and he'd have a bigger packet for her, as well as a bag of things that might help her overcome the urge.

"We're supposed to have some on hand," he explained, shaking his head a little, "but they don't like to put funding where it's supposed to go, and have decided to only bring them in on special request. Sometimes I think if the world would pay a little better attention, prioritize mental health a little higher, some of you guys wouldn't have to go through all of this."

She was saved from having to answer by another tap on the door. She didn't look that way, because she knew it would be Joel, and she was not getting anywhere close to his gaze. Ellis beckoned him inside through the glass. Adira shut her eyes against a fresh torrent of shame, but rose and turned that way, blindly pulling her backpack over her shoulders.

She heard Ellis getting up as well, probably to shake Joel's hand.

"Joel, thanks for coming down," the counselor greeted him. "You know, when you make a decision like not informing the parents... it's scary, it's risky. But you're proving to me more and more than she is in very good hands."

Adira managed to get her eyes open, but kept her head down and her gaze locked on the carpet.

"I hope so, Mate," Joel replied simply, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "She certainly deserves to be."

The counselor nodded in agreement, then offered her a slightly sad smile.

"I'll see you on Monday, Adira. I hope you both have a good weekend."

"Thank you, you as well." Joel raised his freehand in farewell, then turned and led her out of the office and out of the building.

They walked to his car in silence. He got the door for her. She climbed in.

She wanted to fight him, wanted to shove him away so he'd never come back, but somehow... somehow she just couldn't.

As he slid in the driver's side, he didn't reach for his seat belt or move to put the keys into the ignition. Instead, he just looked at her, considered her carefully, for a long moment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft and sad. "Oh, Darling, I'm so sorry."

Hearing him apologize to her was almost laughable. She glanced up, just for a second, before letting her gaze drop again. "For what?"

"For everything you're going through," he said simply. "I wish I could just take it for you. I know I can't, but I just... I wish I could."

She shook her head, blinking back tears. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. I just... I'm just an idiot. But I'm fine."

He moved his own head in the same way, quietly telling her he didn't believe a thing she'd just said. His eyes flicked to her arm, and he indicated it softly.

"Is that it?"

She followed his gaze, wincing a little when she saw the new burn. She'd completely forgotten it was out for all to see. It had been at her side while she was walking, right? No one had... oh God. Trying not to show any outward evidence of her inward panic, she just nodded a little.

"Can I see?" he asked gently.

As much as she hated for anyone to look at it, the request was so genuine, so sad, that she couldn't bear to deny it, moving her arm towards him a little as her way of saying yes.

Carefully, he reached out and turned it towards him a little. She chanced a glance up to his eyes and immediately regretted it. How was it possible for this to break his heart as much as his face suggested.

"I'll clean it up when we get back to the house," he said after a long moment.

She didn't say anything, just pulling the arm back and tucking it against her body.

They fell into silence as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, but it didn't sound like silence to her.

Inside her head, there were a million voices screaming so loud that she couldn't really make out any of them... only understanding the popular message that she hated herself so, so much.

The burn throbbed on her wrist, and with it all the others did to, each their own voice in that horrible chorus of them.

People said self-harm scars never went away.

Was she really stuck hiding them... for the rest of her life?

"Joel?" She flinched back a little at her own tiny voice, because she really, really hadn't meant to say anything.

He looked over at her in that soft way he had. "Yeah?"

Just say nevermind... she just had to say nevermind.

"Are they really gonna be there forever?"

"What are?" He asked, his brow creasing.

This time, her mouth obeyed her and stayed shut, but it didn't take him long to realize the answer himself, his lips silently forming the word, Oh, as deep compassion reached his eyes.

He hesitated a moment before answering, "I don't think they have to."

Then, he quickly switched on his blinker and swung into the turn lane just in time to pull into the parking lot of the Walgreens they'd been about to pass.

She looked at him with a question in her gaze, but he just parked the car and inclined his head towards the store.

She shrank back in her seat a little, that burn screaming louder than ever.

"I can't... my arm..."

Once again, understanding dawned on his face, and he twisted in his seat, retrieving a hoodie from the back seat and offering it to her. "Better?"

Hesitantly, she accepted it, then unbuckled it and pulled it over her head.

"Good." He offered her a quick smile, then slid out of the car. "Follow me."

She obeyed, albeit timidly, and trailing him into the store and to an aisle full of every kind of lotion and cream and sauve she could imagine.

He typed a quick search into his phone, looking through the results for a minute before beginning to scan the shelves in front of him.

When he chose a bottle, holding it next to his phone screen to compare it with the item displayed there, she leaned forward a little to take a look as well. The label confirmed what she'd been beginning to figure out... it was anti-scarring cream.

All it had taken was one little question for him to literally immediately turn here and get something to help with what she was worried about.

If it was her mother that had found out, she'd probably make her wear short sleeves and no makeup all the time, because she'd chosen to do it, now she had to show the world.

Seemingly satisfied with the cream, Joel led the way to the next aisle over, where, next to the bandaids, he picked up a box of scar-removing tape. From there, she found herself following him to the makeup section. Once again consulting his phone, Joel found a brand that appeared to produce different types of foundation and only different types of foundation. The brand's label touted tattoo-covering, and she suddenly understood.

"Can I see your hand, Dear?" Joel asked as he seemed to find the particular foundation type he was looking for and turned to the issue of color.

Not knowing what else to do, she obediently held it out for him to compare to a few different bottles. When he was satisfied, he turned around. Directly across the aisle, he matched scar-covering sticker sheets to her skin and grabbed several of them.

As he turned towards the front registers, it finally sank in what exactly he was about to do.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, quiet but urgent. "I'm not gonna let you buy all that for me. I'll get it."

He shook his head, firmly despite his small smile. "Adira, money is the last thing on my mind here. I'll get it. Please, let me get it."

"But..."

"Please."

His sincere eyes met hers, and the strength dropped out of her shoulders. She said nothing, just silently looking away, but he took that as a yes and resumed his journey to check out. She trailed him with no small amount of reluctance.

The cashier was beginning to scan the items by the time she got up. He glanced from them, to her, and a look she didn't like at all reached his eyes.

"Looks like we're covering up something nasty here," he commented. His tone said clearly, wow are you a screwed up little child.

She bit down hard on her cheek and stared at the floor.

The tone obviously hadn't been lost on Joel. Out of the corner of her gaze, she saw his face tighten.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Despite the tension on his face, his tone remained friendly, but with a firm note in it. "I've got a tattoo, a bad one. My wife is being honored at work, and she wants it covered."

"Oh, a tattoo, is it?" The man looked back at Adira meaningfully, just in case his tone didn't communicate disbelief well enough.

It was an obvious lie, anyway. The makeup was obviously matched to her skin, not Joel's. And anyway, Joel was in short sleeves and jeans... if this tattoo wasn't visible now, it wouldn't be visible in formal attire for a fancy ceremony.

Regardless, the cashier let the matter drop as he packed the items into a bag and bid them a good afternoon.

Once back in the safety of the car, Adira sighed, staring at the seat in guilt and shame. "Thank you"

He offered her a brief smile. "My pleasure, Darling. Really. Thank you for letting me buy it." He hesitated before adding, "The cream and tape should help, and so will not picking off the scabs. I thought with some concealer sheets and thicker foundation, you wouldn't have to do that so much anymore."

She blinked back tears and repeated simply, "Thanks." She hesitated before adding, "But I didn't know Christian celebrities were allowed to lie."

He chuckled ruefully. "I suppose we're not. But we don't have to call it lying. We can call it... making up a fictional story to entertain the nosy stranger."

She actually managed a smile at that.