My eyes remained glued to the seat beside me in hopes I'd be able to wish away Kevin's desire to sit in it. The bell sounding through the classroom shook me out of my thoughts and I sat back, my eyes drifting toward the mass of kids pouring into the room from the crowded hall. I lowered my gaze to the ground soon after, knowing very well if I met Kevin's eyes on his way into the room I wouldn't be able to keep my emotions at bay.

My faint hope in the pit of my stomach shriveled and died when I heard the sound of Kevin's heavy backpack hit the carpet beside his desk. I dug my nails into my thigh as I tried to force out a shaky breath, but it didn't help in the least. It felt as if someone were taking a heavy weight and pressing it down against my chest, not allowing for much intake of the air around me.

My hand swatted my blue led pencil and notebook off the table as I jumped in my seat, startled by the sudden bell. I slid out from behind the desk and crouched to pick them up. I jerked away when I felt Kevin's hand brush against the top of mine, hitting the back of my head on the chair as I hit the ground hard. Ignoring the dull throb, I swept my stuff into my bag, threw it over my shoulder and rushed passed Mr. Nicholson and out of the room before I could cause any more of a scene.

The second the classroom door swung shut behind me I ran. I knew that it was likely I'd get caught and sent to the Dean, but in that moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting as far away from Kevin as humanly possible. I finally collapsed along the outside wall outside the main office, hyperventilating as tears soaked both of my warm cheeks. When I try to take a deep breath and stand, a wave of nausea washes over me with an addition of a little vertigo. I tried once more to stand, but my legs were shaking and aching far too much to support my weight. My vision was so blurred from my tears that I couldn't even make out the Homecoming poster strung up on the wall opposite of me.

A hand rested itself on my shoulder and I prepared myself to rise and run again. Turning quickly, my urge to run dissipated. The school principal Mr. Hefford, bent one knee at my side, eying me worriedly. I opened my mouth to try and excuse my actions, but closed it slowly when I realized I couldn't give him a valid reason for running through the halls or being a mess of emotion outside his office.

After a minute of shared silence, he whispered, "Miss Spencer, I'd like to see you in my office."

*

I crossed my right leg over my left as I shifted uncomfortably in the chair facing the cluttered principal's desk. Stacks upon stacks of manila and multicolored poly folders were on either side, giving him little to no room to write on the small clipboard in the middle of his desk, something I could only assume was a referral for me or contact information for him to get a hold of my parents, or more likely, Landon.

He lifted his head with a frown. "Mr. Nicholson called in saying you caused a scene in the classroom. Another staff member also noted that you were running through the hall. You know running in the halls isn't tolerated at this school, Miss Spencer."

I nodded, but kept my mouth shut. I was afraid if I tried to speak my voice would crack and I'd fall into another fit of hysterics.

Mr. Hefford crossed his arms on his desk, eyes on my file again. He looked back up after a minute, then outstretched his hand across the messy desk. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about, Miss Spencer? This office is a safe space. Anything you say in here stays in here."

I only stared blankly.

I wanted to tell him what happened. I wanted to pour my heart out and finally get this never ending nightmare out into the open so I wasn't in a constant cat-and-mouse chase with my own thoughts. But I couldn't. Mr. Hefford and Mr. Marshall had grown up together, and the soon-to-be Governor was likely helping pay for a lot of the extracurricular activities here at the school.

Mr. Hefford eventually took the hint that I wasn't going to respond.

"Your brother, Landon, was such a wonderful student here at the school. Great grades and a great player for the team. I know he cared a lot for you, Avery, as he was always talking about you before and after games." he paused, looking over my shoulder and at the office door, then back at me. "Have you tried to speak to him about what's causing these episodes in class?"

I shook my head, trying to force a smile that probably couldn't even pass as a grimace, as I whispered shakily, "I'm fine, Mr. Hefford."

Even I don't believe the words that leave my mouth.

"I'll be back in one second. Please stay here." He said before stepping out of his office, leaving me alone in the room.

My eyes drifted from wall to wall, eying the USC posters and flags pinned up all over the room. It was no secret Mr. Hefford had graduated with honors from the school and as the star football player on his way to be drafted into the NFL. But only days before the draft he was in an accident that resulted in his knee being shattered in multiple areas and a recommendation to never play again. Despite his disposition, he was able to overcome it and finished school, ending up as a high school principal with a great back story years later.

I stretched my feet out under the desk, my eyes falling on the small black frame facing one of the two monitor's on Mr. Hefford's desk. It was a little girl with a lopsided smile, her white-blonde hair in braided pigtails as she held up a Kindergarten diploma. Not far from it was a similar picture of the same girl, but with her hair in a mass of waves down her back and cascading her shoulders, wide rimmed black glasses askew as she holds her middle school graduation diploma with a bored expression.

I was stirred from my daze when a set of pamphlets was dropped on to the desk in front of me, Mr. Hefford leaning against the corner of his wide desk.

He smiled weakly upon seeing my eyes dart from the picture of his daughter to him. "We're here for you and can help you through whatever it is that's bothering you, Miss Spencer."

I wish you could, I wanted to agree. But you won't ever truly understand.

Instead I said, "Can I leave now?"

Mr. Hefford examined me carefully for a moment before he rubbed one hand down his face and nodded curtly. "Yes."

The last bell of the day sounded throughout the school as I grasped my backpack strap in my hand and stood. I wiped at my tear stained cheeks, hoping I didn't look as bad as I felt. The second Landon would see me, he'd immediately try to push and pry for answers that I wasn't going to give and would lay thinking about in the middle of the night after hours of the continuous torture of my own thoughts.

Clearing my throat, I thanked the principal and followed him toward the door. Once I was out of the claustrophobic room, I hurried toward the door and stepped outside.

For the first time in years, I was thankful for the mid-August humidity. It would aide in my excuse as to why I looked like I'd just had a metal breakdown.

I slowed to a walk and stared down at the pamphlets. I almost laughed hysterically when I saw one was for suicide prevention and the other for bullying. It was the third that sent a shiver through me and stopped me dead in my tracks just outside the front doors of the school.

I didn't see a pamphlet in my hands, but only one word; Rape.

"Avery!" Landon's shout was soon accompanied by a loud whistle. I stared at that pamphlet for a second longer before stuffing it deep into my backpack and jogging across the parking lot to meet my brother. 

***AN***

*Unedited*

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