When I open the door to my classroom, the class quiets down at my presence; I walk over to Mr. Brooks desk and hand him the papers. He takes them out of my hand. "Thank you." He says.

I turn away from his desk, and my eyes go to Ryder, who is sitting in the seat in front of mine. I search the class trying to find another seat, but all of them are taken; of course, everyone came to class today. I walk down the aisle to my desk and sit. The class begins to whisper. The cheerleaders are seated in front of the class, and most of the football players are in the back with me. They aren't mixed together like they usually are. They are divided like I said they would be. Ashely is sitting in the front row; her hair is pulled into a high ponytail. Her blonde curls touch the back of her neck. Monica sits on her right; her long bronze legs are stretched out under the desk. She is on her phone, typing, tweeting most likely.

"Okay. So today is the day I get to hear all of the lovely poems! You guys had a week to write them," Mr. Brooks says. "So, who wants to go first?" No one raises their hand. I didn't do the assignment; even if I did, I wouldn't get in front of the class and share it. I don't think sharing it is a part of the grade, or maybe it is? It doesn't matter, though Mr. Brooks excused me from the assignment because of my whole panic attack breakdown on Monday. "Really, no one wants to share?" he asks. A boy in front of the class raises his hand. I think his name is Jin. "Ah, Mr. Yang, it looks like you'll get A for participation today,"

"Actually, I wasn't raising my hand for that; I was raising my hand because I have a question." the boy states.

Mr. Brooks sighs. "Okay."

"Why suddenly did we have to have permission slips to rewrite Romeo and Juliet? I mean, we all worked so hard on it, and now, we can't do it without our parents' permission," he asks. The class murmurs agreeing with him.

"You know I agree with Asian over there," Eric yells from across the room, another boy also on the football team.

"Mr. Brown. That is not his name." Mr. Brooks corrects him.

"Wang, Lang, Jin. Whatever." Logan mockingly. Mr. Brooks rolls his eyes. Logan continues. "I had no idea what I was going to do for my project, and then you gave us that project, which I actually was doing. Just to find out a week later, we can't do it without getting permission from our parents." He says.

"Your parents said no?" Mr. Brooks asks him.

"Yeah, they said something about how my senior project needs to have meaning, and rewriting a fictional love story was meaningless," he answers.

"Is that how you felt?"

"No. I mean, yeah, but I liked it because it was easy. I mean, the ladies love me, so it's not hard to write down how much they love me on paper." The class laughs at Logan's dumb response Mr.Brooks shakes his head at Eric's remark.

"Speak for yourself. I'm glad I don't have to do that dumbass project even though I will miss spending my days with Monica." Zach says.

"Shut up!" Monica says.

"By a show of hands, how many of you did get permission from your parents to continue with the assignment?" Brooks asks.

About half of the class raises their hands. "And how many of you, even though now it's not mandatory, will complete the assignment?" Everyone puts the hand down except for James, Violet, and surprisingly Ryder. "I'm glad you guys are going to stick with it," Mr.Brooks says proudly. "So again, who wants to share?"

Ryder leans back in the chair and slouches. He taps his pen on the side of the desk; it's irritating me; he's doing it on purpose, I know he is. He did the same thing when he was at my house; I told him I hated it.

I want to tell him to stop, but I promised myself and Caleb I wouldn't talk to him.

So I won't, even though the sound of the pen hitting the desk is hurting my ears. I stare at the back of his head. His hair is really black, raven black. My eyes move down to the back of his neck. A tattoo peaks from underneath his shirt. I don't know what it is. I wonder what it is.

I will just have to wonder because I will never ask.

...

I decided not to go to lunch. I'm sitting at a table in the school's library, reading Hamlet. I haven't read it in forever. I keep stopping and starting.

I've been so busy lately. I haven't had the chance to read, to take any time for myself. I guess in a way, it's a good thing I've been busy. I mean, I haven't cut in four days, I think. I don't even remember the last time I cut. I know it hasn't been that long, but it feels like forever.

My phone buzzes.

*Where are you? -James

*I'm in the library studying.

I didn't lie; I am studying. I'm studying one of the greatest novels ever written. I'm studying it for myself, of course. I've read this book several times, and yet each time I read it, it changes my viewpoint on death. The library door comes open, and Ryder comes in.

I look down at my book and cover my face with my hand. Maybe he didn't see me? Why is he in here? I see his feet under my hand. He's right here.

"Can I talk to you?" He asks.

"I can't." I stand up from my chair and close my book.

"Jayda, Please." He begs. I don't look at him. I continue to put my book into my bag.

"There's nothing to talk about," I say.

"Yes, there is." he snaps.

I zip up my bag. "No, no, there's not. I don't want to talk to you. I can't talk to you." I push past him. I try to rush out of the library, but he pulls me into one of the aisles before I can.

"Why can't you talk to me?" He asks while holding on to my wrist. Again.

I stare up at his dark green eyes. His head is above my neck. I can't tell him; I can't talk to him because Caleb told me not to. He will get mad, madder than he is now. I don't want to talk to him, not only because Caleb told me not to. I don't want to talk to him because I'm done with this, with everything that has to do with him. Plus, I can't be seen around him now. People already think I had something to do with him and Ashely breaking up. "My dad told me to stay away from you," I say. That is not a lie. He did. Maybe he will back off now that I pulled the parent card. It was a weak move, but that's all I had.

Ryder narrows his eyes at me. "Your dad?"

"Yes."

"Fuck him. The only reason he doesn't--"

"Is everything okay?" The librarian lady asks us. His grip loosens from my wrist—this is my opportunity. I pull my wrist from his hand and walk past him and the librarian lady and rush out the door.

...

"We missed you at lunch," Violet says. I smile while I grab my books out of my locker. I'm so ready to go home. Then again, I'm not. I have that stupid dinner. Ugh, and I have to see Katie; I haven't seen her since I sold her those pills, two months before my suicide attempt. Yes, their little redhead perfect angel is not so perfect. She's a drug addict.

"So what are your plans this weekend?" she asks me.

"Uhhh, nothing."

"Good, because James and I were thinking about going to the movies. Oh, and Liam. You in?"

"Uhhh, sure." I really don't want to go, but she seems so excited, I don't want to disappoint her. I grab my bag out of my locker and close it. We head downstairs and meet James at the front door.

"Girlllll." He says, drawing out the word.

"What?" I say. He points out the door, I follow his hand to what he is pointing at. Caleb, he's leaning against his car. Oh god. Why is he here? He can't be here.

"Is he here for you?" Violet asks with a huge smile on her fast.

"I...I" I can't formulate my words.

"Of course, he's here for her," James says.

"Wow," Violet's eyes sparkle.

"Well, go on. Don't keep prince charming waiting." James opens the door, and I walk out. My heart is pounding outside my chest. I spot Ryder down the steps with some of his friends.

Please don't say anything.

Please don't say anything.

Please don't say anything.

"Well, I guess she ran out of guys to fuck!" One boy yells.

"Slut." I hear a girl say.

"You seriously didn't hit that Adams?" Matt asks Ryder. He doesn't respond—his eyes on me with each step I take.

I walk across the street where Caleb is standing at. "Hey," he says, greeting me.

"Hey."

He removes his hand from his back; he holds out flowers, roses. A smile comes across my face. I take them out of his hand.

"Thank you," I say. I look down at the crimson red bundle of roses. "You came all this way to give me these?"

"Yeah, and because I wanted to see you," he says. His eyes sparkle in the sun, and a smile pierces at the side of his mouth. "Are you happy I came?" he asks.

"Yes," I say honestly; he has been the highlight of my day.

"Good." He grabs my hand; we spend a good minute just smiling stupidly at each other.

A car door slams. When I turn around, Ryder's car flies through the parking lot past me. "He really is an idiot. Driving that fast in a parking lot." Caleb says. "Did you see him today?"

"Yeah." Why would I see him? We do go to the same school.

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes. but I didn't speak back."

"Good," he says. "So what are you doing today?" he asks, pulling me towards him. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, a car horn honk.

"Jayda!" My mom yells, running the moment. I sigh and turn around.

"Oh, hello, Caleb." She says.

"Hey, Ms.King." he greets her back. "I guess you have to go." He says to me.

"Yeah. I'll call you later." I assure him.

"Okay." he releases my hand, and I walk over to my mom's car, open the door and get in; she looks at me with a weird smirk on her face and then looks at the rose in my hand.

I furrow my brows. "What?"

She turns back towards the window. "Caleb!" she calls him before he gets in his car.

"Mom," I growl in a low tone so that he won't hear me.

He turns around and walks over to the car.

"Are you busy later?" she asks him.

"Uhhh, no," he answers. He looks a little nervous.

"Good. Would you like to come over for dinner at our house? We're hosting dinner for a few family friends that Jayda doesn't particularly care for," she explains. "And I won't be able to keep an eye on her the whole time I'll be hosting. You wouldn't mind coming over to keep an eye on her?"

"Mom, I don't need a babysitter." I snarl.

Caleb laughs and then says, "Sure, no problem. What time?"