1 Month Later

Dear you stupid ass diary. It's Friday, October 7th; you already know what time it is. I have to write my stupid feelings into this book twice a day when I wake up and before I go to sleep. There isn't much to say; you know everything, diary; it's just been the same old same old around here. But for fun, let's recap the shit storm I've been through.

So as you know, I was diagnosed with Pseudoseizures, aka sutto seizures. They are nonepileptic seizures, which means they're not caused by some physical health problems, they're caused by severe mental stress, which is just fabulous, right, lol. Just what I needed. I'm stressed all the fucking time. But I have to be severely stressed to have a seizure. So when I get to the limit, when I feel like I'm about to blow, one will come. I've had 4 of them since new york.

I mean, how can I not be stressed? I'm stressed about everything. I am not going to NYU. It's been a month, and I hadn't heard anything from Caleb. Up until last week, I thought maybe he lost his phone or something or was just sick. But when James came over last week to drop off my homework, he told me that he asked Logan if Caleb was alright. Logan told him he was fine. So if he's fine, why hasn't he called me? Well, diary, I figured Caleb decided he was done with me. I just don't know what happened. I mean, we were good, he told me to call him that night, I did, he never answered or called me back. So what happened in that little bit of time? I just don't understand what I did wrong. I was really crushed about it, I still am. I don't think I'll ever get over it. But it is what it is. Maybe it's for the best.

Moving on, Ryder, of course, is back to being the ass that he is. I texted him like I said I would before he left. He never responded. He has totally ghosted me, big surprise; I don't know why I actually thought he would give a damn about me. I'm not too beat up about that, though; I knew he wasn't going to change, In Violet's words. "Ryder and Ashely are happier than ever," which means that he's the same old Ryder.

James said Ryder has gotten worse though he's been in several fights in a month, and there's a rumor going around that he cheated on Ashely in New York. Which he did, lol, but how could they know? There's also a rumor going around about me, which is not a big surprise. I guess I'm supposedly scared to come back to school because I don't want to face Ashely, which is not true. I'm not afraid of her, but no one believes that except for Violet, James, Liam, Thomas. I told them about the seizures. I told them I had epilepsy. Which was not really a lie, but it wasn't really entirely the truth.

Shit, I forgot I'm supposed to be thinking about positive things. Looking on the bright side about stuff. Okay, positive things, positive things. I start writing again.

I guess I'm not too upset I'm not in school; that definitely took a load off of me. Oh, and I'm still on the stem. Thomas and Liam come over every Friday, and we work on coding for the robot; I had to miss the first competition and the second one, but hopefully, I can be there for the third one if I'm even alive. I'm back to having nothing to live for; I don't want to live for anything; I'm done, I gave life a chance, and it failed me. I started cutting again. Two weeks ago, I did it. I held off for as long as I could; I've been doing it every day since. My parents don't know, I don't think Rachel knows, I've been meeting with her still, and she hasn't said anything about it. I promised her I was going to keep trying even without the medication. But I lied to her, I don't want to try, I don't want to live. Every time I cut, I always think back to what she said. She said that cutting was a good thing because I have the means to kill myself, but I haven't. So why haven't I?

"Jayda!" My mom yells.

"Coming!" I yell back. I'll finish this later; I close the black book and put it under my pillow. I walk out of my room and down the stairs. My mom is sitting at the dining table with her papers covering the whole table as usual.

"I just got off the phone with Ms.Moore. She said that they are holding SAT Tests at the school tomorrow at twelve."

"And you're letting me go? You and Dad?" I ask wide-eyed.

"Yes, she said only seven kids would be there; that isn't many people. Your father and I think it would be good. Just to see how you will do." She says.

"Okay." I take a seat across from her. I wish I could tell her there's no need for me to take it. I'm not going to college; I don't want to go.

My mom and dad were upset about me having an interview with NYU and not telling them. They were even more upset when I told them it went terribly. I told them it was with the journalism department; my father didn't understand why I would want to go to college for writing. My mother wasn't too fond of the idea. But because she just wants me to be happy, she approved, though I know she would rather have me go to college for Law.

My father wanted me to do something that was more stable. He understood me not wanting to go to Yale. But now he has his heart set on me going to UCLA for business. He said something about it being the best school in the USA for business. I told him I would think about it, which was a lie. I just didn't want to talk about it anymore. It's not like I could tell him I won't be here to go to college.

"You've been studying, right?" My mother asks while typing on her computer.

"Yup, since we got back."

"Yes." she corrects me. "Do you think you're ready?" she looks up at me.

"I hope I am." It was a waste of time studying for the SAT's, but I did it.

"Great, well, I do have a question." My mother says. "Your father and I have been talking, and we want to leave it solely up to you. We know how hesitant you were about taking medication because of what happened last time. I said that I would watch you this time. I said that I would pay more attention, and yet something still happened." her eyes start to turn red.

"That wasn't your fault, mom. I didn't tell you guys, I kept it from you, you did what you were supposed to do, you asked me, and talked to me, you tried to see where my head was at, and I lied to you."

She sighs. "I know, but as a parent, we always ask ourselves what more we can do...could we have done? We look back on situations and try to see what we missed. Where we went wrong."

"You didn't miss anything." I try to assure her. This right here breaks my heart. I hate that my actions make my parents feel bad about themselves when the truth is they try, they have been trying, and I see that, but yet I always do something to disappoint them.

"Well, your father and I have been talking, and we wanted to know if you would maybe like to try again? With medication," she asks. "The choice is yours completely whatever you want to do. We heard you when you said that the only reason you didn't tell us about the side effects was because you were feeling better. We want you to feel better. We were maybe thinking about trying something with a lower dosage, something with less side ef--"

I cut her off. "No."

"No?" she questions.

I shake my head. "I don't want to." I'm never retaking medication; this time, I mean it.

She hesitates. "Well, um... that's okay, it's fine if therapy is the only thing you want right now, that's fine. We will respect that," she says.

She looks back at her computer and starts typing—my phone dings.

"Is that Violet?" she asks.

"Yeah, um, they're coming over right after school. I'm going to go take my walk now." I say.

"Okay." She says softly. "I have to make a few calls anyway."

I stand up from the table. "Alright, well, I'll be back."

"Be careful." She says before I walk out the door.

...

I open up the car door. "What took you so long?" Travis says immediately.

"Just give me the stuff." I snap. I take an envelope out of my pocket and hand it to him.

"What, you don't want to catch up? I only get to see you once a week." He gives me the most disgusting smile ever. I grit my teeth. He blows his breath. "It's in the glove department," he says. He starts to count the money in the envelope. I open the glove department, and a silver gun falls out on the floor. I jerk back, and he starts laughing. He reaches over and picks it up off the floor. "You're not scared of a gun, are you?" he asks. He holds it in his hand firm.

"No, I just didn't expect it to be in there." I reach into the glove department and grab the envelopes. "Same place next Friday?"

"Aww, you're leaving already?" He rests his hand on my leg. His hands are so cold; I feel sick to his touch. He looks straight at me. His dark eyes are clear. I know he is high; I take his hand and push it away.

"Goodbye, Travis." I open the car door and get out. I take a huge breath of air and walk down the street.

As I walk up the street, I can't help but feel like I am being watched.

I shake off the feeling and look at the addresses on the envelopes. They are close; I can drop them off on my way back home. When I get the envelopes from him, I usually just stick them in the house's mailbox, and that's it. Fridays when I go out for a walk, I meet Travis, we make the exchange, I hand him the money, and he hands me the product, thats it. I told him I was suspended from school for a while and that I wouldn't be allowed on the property. I thought that would get me out of selling for him. But instead, he just ended up giving me deliveries in the neighborhood.

I look at the address on the envelopes and head in the direction of the first house.

...

"Here, you guys go." I sit the tray of lemonade on the table. Everyone wanted to sit out here by the pool.

"If I lived in a house like this. I would throw a party every week." Violet says. She takes a cup of lemonade off the tray. I just realized I don't know where Violet lives.

"Ditto," James says.

"Doesn't your house have a pool?" Thomas asks him.

"Yeah, but it isn't this big." James answers.

Everyone laughs. "So, how is the coding going?" Liam asks me.

"Good, I'll be working on it some more tonight."

"Great." He says.

"When is the next competition?" I ask.

"In two weeks." Thomas answers. I nod my head and pick up the folder of homework on the table and look through it.

"So, do you know when you are coming back to school?" Violet asks me.

"Um, no, but soon."

"Are you sure you want to come back?." James asks. Everyone looks at me.

"Why wouldn't I?" Everyone stays silent. "Guys!" I urge them.

"It's just that. Ashely has been saying things." Violet says.

"Tell me something new." I roll my eyes.

"No, like serious things, she's just been saying how she's gonna destroy you when you come back and make your life a living hell," James says.

"She already makes her life a living hell. She makes everyone's life a living hell. Everyone who isn't on the football team, basketball team, or a cheerleader." Thomas chimes in.

"Yeah, but I don't know this time. It seems like she's going to do more." James takes a sip of his lemonade.

"What more can she do?" Liam asks.

"I don't know. It's Ashely. I mean, after the things people have been saying she did to Jessica. That was her best friend. You saw all the shit she was saying to her in the cafeteria." James says.

"Didn't she, like, sleep with Ryder or something?" Liam asks.

"Allegedly, there is no proof," I say. Everyone looks at me, wide-eyed. "I'm just saying. I doubt she did that." I take a sip of my lemonade.

"Well, there is that sex tape?" Violet says.

"That's right." James snaps his finger rapidly. "I heard that's why she got kicked off the team, misconduct."

"Who was it with?" I ask.

"Matt!" Violet answers.

"And he didn't get kicked off the football team?" I narrow my eyes.

"He's a boy. Getting exposed like that gives boys cool points and gives us girls hoes points." Violet says. I take a deep breath and sit back in my chair. That doesn't make any sense. It's sickening to think that girls don't have any equality. We get scorned for doing things boys do, and boys get praised.

"It's sad, but it's true," James says.

...

I'm talking to Liam and Thomas about the coding for the robot. They're telling me everything that needs to be coded by next week. Violet and James are whispering something to each other. Their phones buzzed a few minutes ago, and ever since then, they keep looking at me and whispering.

"What?" I say sternly, not being able to take the looks. They both look at me, holding their breaths. "What's going on?" They both continue staring at me; they don't say anything. "Guys!" I say, urging them to tell me.

James looks at Violet then back to me. He hands me his phone. I swear my heart stops when I see what it is.