Monday used to be the day when everyone dreaded getting up and going to school. Now, it's the day when I go to school for the first time since the Solaris hospital incident. Maybe I can resume a normal life. Maybe I can put aside the crazy after-school special and invest in my academics. But that'll be pretty hard to do in the fourth block with two empty seats – the seats of Allister and Adelina. 

I dress in a navy polo shirt and khaki shorts. Slipping on boat shoes, I slide my backpack over my shoulder. "Mom, Dad!" I call in the house, stepping down the steps."I'm leaving."

 "Mom" is actually not my mom – she's Enzo's. "Bye," she lazily calls to me, sipping"coffee" on a barstool. She doesn't really like me, but it's fine, considering the feeling is mutual. 

"Have a good day!" Dad yells from his bedroom, voice hoarse from just waking up. 

Snatching a banana, I head out the door and start walking to school. It isn't long before a  yellow Jeep pulls up my way. "Aero!" a familiar voice says, vehicle slowing down. "Come on, let me give you a ride." Stopping, I look to see Ozzy, his golden hair pulled back in abun. "I promise I won't bite," he jokes when I don't do or say anything. 

 "Oh, sorry," I respond, forcing a laugh. "Umm, yeah. Thanks." I hop in the passenger seat and we bounce along the road. "So how'd you get free from the cops?"

 Ozzy explains the reveal of the autopsies and that someone else, probably larger than him, strangled Hanzo Duvall. Allister Casada sniped; Adelina Saylor was slashed; Hanzo Duvall was strangled. How will the killer end us next? Who will be their next victim? 

 Ozzy parks his car next to the navy car of Kellin Kodiak, who gets out and greets us with a customary smirk. "Hey, guys." 

 A car rolls by us and parks by Kellin's. It's green and shiny as if it's just been washed. 

From the driver's seat, Maren pops up. "Perfect timing." I look at these three people. Is this what's left of us? From what started as Hanzo, Makai, Reyna, Della, and Al; became some misfits and Makai and Rey. 

 "You sure you're ready for this?" Ozzy asks, smiling. "I mean, I don't know what you went through, but I have a good idea. And the idea is a terrible one." 

 Acting cool and calm, I shrug. "If I'm not ready now, then I never will be." 

 "That's the spirit," Kellin assures, heartily slapping me on the back. 

 "Gee, thanks." 

 Though my legs move with rhythm and tempo, they feel numb. Already, people sitting at benches and picnic tables look my way. They stare at me as if I carry the Bubonic plague on my shoulders. As if I'm cancer. I don't meet their eyes, knowing that the hidden temper in me would snap and ridicule them for being cowards for viewing me with disgust. 

As we pass cliques and groups of people, I hear their whispers.

"...got caught doing that with her..."

"He's such a dick for putting that out there..."

"...do you think she knew what he did?"

I feel my brows furrow. What are they talking about? I didn't put anything out anywhere. And I never got caught doing anything. Are they talking about me or Ozzy or someone else they have me mistaken for? 

 "Ahh, don't let 'em get to you," Oz instructs. "They don't know how to handle a total badass survivor." 

 "I don't even know what they're talking about," I whisper. 

 "Often, people talk. But they don't say anything," philosopher Kodiak informs me. 

"Don't stress it." 

 We approach the double doors to Solaris High, and through the small, rectangle windows, I can see papers carelessly thrown on the floor. They litter the halls and are posted on the lockers and walls with tape. Everyone inside has a copy of this as well, and I wonder what it could be.

Swinging the doors open before we do, is one of the OG's himself: Makai Keanu. He's flustered and his hair sticking out all over the place. In one of his hands is the paper I've seen everywhere but in my own possession. "Aero," he demands, focusing on me. 

"You're not going to like this..." he places the paper in my hand and watches my expression turn horrid. "But I bet you already Kea-knew that..."

 "I'd ask who did this, but I already know," I say, mostly to myself, staring at the paper. 

 "Who?" Makai inquires. "Because I swear I'll shove this paper right up his –"

 "I don't know an actual name," I finish. "It's the killer." "How did they get copies of you and Al going for it in a dressing room?" Makai presses. 

 "No idea..."

There's a hollow feeling eating away at me. My friends have died and their presence has been replaced with shameful blackmail. What did I ever do to get on the killer's bad side?

 "Should you just go home?" Maren inquires. I notice when she comes closer to me to ask, Ozzy backs away from her. He's probably holding a grudge for her father accusing him of murdering Hanzo. 

 "Probably," I agree. "Me being here will only be a distraction to students and myself."

 Makai laughs. A real laugh. It's the first time I've heard it, and now I know why so many people flock to him – he fills the room with warmth. Anyone who wouldn't wantMakai around could be classified as crazy. "Ozzy's asking the wrong questions. Of course, you should leave, Aero. But are you going to?" 

 Though I want to bolt home and never come back here, I know I have to stay. If I go home, then the killer wins. If they know they can get inside our heads and screw up with every single aspect of our lives, then we've already lost. By staying, I make a point. Sure, you can kidnap, torture, and murder my friends. Sure, you can snipe the girl I liked mid-kiss. Sure, you can trap us in a hospital and reign your terror. Sure, you can even try to frame Ozzy for the deaths. Sure, you can haunt my school hallways with your blackmail. 

 But know that I won't let it completely control my life. 

 "Nah," I answer Makai, crumbling the paper up and tossing it to the side; littering the already-littered floor. "I'm staying right here.

Harshly, the bell shrills in our ears. "Actually," Makai corrects, swinging an arm around my shoulders with suave and bravado. "You won't be staying right here. Come on, we've got to hit science."

 "Or hit whoever spread these papers," I joke, trying to find a silver lining. 

 Makai pats my shoulder with the arm that isn't slinked around me. "I like the way you think. Where were you when the whole gang was around?" Makai realizes what he's said. I can tell by the way his eyes flood with tears of immense grief and the way his jaw uncomfortably feathers. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

 "You have no reason to be sorry. You knew them all better and longer than I did," I assure. 

"Things don't seem to get better around here," Makai grumbles as we approach the door to Mr. Watson's class. I reach for the knob when his hand clutches it first, preventing me from advancing inside the room. "But you've got to act as they do. Act like everything is getting better."

I snort in disbelief. "And what? Eventually, I start to believe it?"

Makai stares at me with his chocolate eyes. "Maybe. Just don't give up hope. Look at the glass as half full."

"Half full of horse shit," I mumble.

"You're right," Makai says with a small laugh. "I can't penalize you for truth. But in all seriousness, Aero...try to be positive. Once your mind corrodes and starts to think of all the bad, then it's like losing hope. And once you lose hope, you become an easy target for whoever's doing this, because you start to lose interest if you're next on the chopping block or not. I've already lost so many –" Makai's voice hitches with emotion and he takes an unsteady breath. "I've already lost so many people, Aero. I don't want to lose you, too."

 "Don't worry," I promise. "I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

"I don't mean it like that," Makai counters. "I mean I don't want you to lose yourself."

 I understand. He doesn't want me to lose my way and alter who I was before the heat really got turned up. He doesn't want me to crack under the pressure. He doesn't want my will and strength to break. 

 "I won't," I swear. 

 Curtly, Makai nods. "Now time for biology: the only thing worse than death."

 Once we step through the door, everyone glances up and watches us. Some laugh and point at me. Some glare, thinking I tastelessly put these papers of Allister and me through the school. Some frown with empathy, imagining how I must be feeling. 

 Despite all the watchers, I focus on what Makai just said. No, not all the surprisingly insightful stuff, but what he literally just said. Now time for biology: the only thing worse than death. As I make my way to my desk in the back of the room, I repeat in my head over and over that this class is worse than everything else I've been through. 

 By the time I get to my chair, sit, and settle in...I start to believe it.

 Somewhere in the middle of the room where Kai sits, he cracks a joke and the entire class laughs; forgetting all about these cursed papers. Though it's a small one, I smile. On the surface, things appear to be okay and back to normal. 

If the rest of the day manages to stay like this, then the spread of the blackmail might not be such a wet rag, after all. Maybe I really can lead a normal-ish life at school.

 There is hope here. I just have to look for it. 

Makai looks back and gives me a charming wink that seems to say if I can do it, then you can, too. 

 Nodding, I try to say, I think I can.