This is it.

That’s all that was on my mind whenever I entered one of the Power Five teacher’s room. The day wasn’t nearly over, and never before had I held my breath for so long than today. I couldn’t gather up the courage to stay calm at all. Paranoia settled itself as soon as I stepped out of my first period room this morning. The short sixty second walk from my Latin class to Calculus almost made me pass out. No matter how hard or brisk I blinked away my vision, it reappeared in whirls of dark purples and oranges.

 

I could no longer depict the white sheen to the walls, or the mahogany to the bricks found here and there. Every time I was forced to walk to one of the prestigious teachers’ rooms, my heart rate doubled immensely and I was forced to grit back my teeth. It numbed out the pain throbbing in my chest and head. Facing reality never felt so strenuous as it did in those short moments during passing periods.

The rush killed me alone. I’ve been accustomed to it for years, though. It wasn’t anything new. When my parents found out about my odd tendencies to calm myself down, they refused prescription medication, deeming it useless. That is, until, they watched Wanted with me. I found it odd how I could relate to a movie, let alone, one such as eccentric as that. Similar symptoms were obvious, except for the lust to kill. I highly doubted I would ever revert to something as such.

 

Instead I chose to stay silent about my condition. It wasn’t diagnosed since my parents believed it would heal within due timing. As much as I would love to agree with them, I couldn’t. My issues weren’t getting worse, but they seemed to bind me more often. Yes, everyone worries, but with me, it’s not normal. It was obvious, and I know Chance and Riza tend to believe otherwise. Silence says more than any presidential speech, and the look in their eyes when they took a simple glance at me, told it all.

My life was healthy. That’s all I could live with. I wasn’t bound in a hospital with wires and tubes and machines hooked into me left and right. I could walk with no help. I could speak clearly. Nothing deterred my physical motives, and my mind wasn’t washed up. I have everything I needed to get by from day to day.

 

But things like that don’t fix the hollow echo inside me.

The same queasiness that overtook me not even two hours ago swelled every living and dead thing inside me. I couldn’t help but quiver as I looked around the room. It was slightly larger in size than my last class, thanks to the ceiling-to-wall window on the left side of the room. It gave sight to the bottom of the hill; houses, cars, people, and buildings showcasing with just one glance out it. Slowly, students filtered in filing into the empty seats as chatter immersed. No sight of the teacher made itself aware, leaving us to fend for ourselves with the seating arrangement.

We had no problem avoiding the front of the room.

 

Most of the students already in the room chose to sit in the far back. Seeing as no one littered on the far right of the room, I ventured towards the back two rows, hoping Chance would show up soon. I only pegged the classes we had together, and this was the only one.

In the row to the left, a girl sat timidly three desks ahead of me. She slowly slipped off her messenger bag before sinking into her seat. Either she was in pain, or just as anxious as I for the class to be over with. She avoided eye contact with any and everything, her finger tracing across random patterns on the wood to the desk before her. I thought watching someone would disregard with the odd vibes I was getting but, low and behold, that feeling didn’t last long.

 

“Are you excited for this class?” Chance asked as soon as he found the seat beside me.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?” he questioned in a flippant tone, scuffing the tiles beneath us as he scooted his desk slightly closer to mine. “Because Taylor doesn’t have this class?”

 

My nerves instantly died at the sound of his name. Before I knew it, a smile crept onto my lips and I ducked my head down so Chance wouldn’t catch it. But the nudge to my shoulder from my right made me breathe out a chuckle.

“The bell hasn’t rung yet.” I stated in a soft voice. “We don’t know if he has this class or not.”

“But you’re counting your lucky stars.”

 

I gave a small huff, creasing my hair behind my ear to look at my blue-eyed friend. The look in his eyes said it all. Sassily turning away from him, I flipped my hair over my shoulder which made him laugh.

Taylor Landry Jr. was the boy I met in my History class sophomore year. Throughout the first semester we sat on opposite ends of the class, making it difficult to keep my ‘admiring from afar’ stares discreet. I had the perfect view of him, and from the angles we sat at, he did too of me. If I made the slightest move, he could’ve caught it from the corner of his eye. I tried making myself invisible, just so it wouldn’t hurt when I embarrassed myself in class. I did though, and thankfully, whenever he was absent.

 

Come second semester of that year, Mr. Johnson decided to change things up for the five month project he slammed on us. We had two choices. Work with partners to lessen the blow, or get rid of the project altogether and have our final exam take up two class periods, not including the actual two and a half hour session we were given at the beginning of June for end of the year exams.

We chose the wiser of the two choices. Except, there was a catch. I was almost shocked that he failed to mention the catch before giving us the options. Of course, he’d have to pick the partners at random. If we’d known that beforehand, we would’ve chosen the death test. During the first month of that year in that specific class, I found out that eighty percent of the students hated one another. For reasons unknown. Well, to me anyways. I didn’t associate with those people. And after that year was over, I couldn’t count how many lucky stars I had for surviving.

 

As soon as I heard my name in the same sentence as Taylor Landry, my anxiety skyrocketed. I was actually counting on being paired with the guy who instigated four fights in the month before the project was announced. He wasn’t too hard on the eyes, but I refused looking into his eyes for too long. Fear was the only intimidation he held with one look and he was sold.

 

“Hey Aurora.”

 

Even with two words, Taylor immediately stole my heart. I didn’t even know if he knew I was in the class, let alone, where I sat. But he stilled walked right up to my desk after the partners had been given out, blasted my mind with that one charming smile that still crawls under my skin now, and with the first short sentence he ever spoke to me, blew me away. After that, it was no longer just a crush. I had fallen head over heels and I lost track with how many times I broke my feet. I was addicted to the look in his eyes whenever he looked at me. The class I feared most for my own safety, became my top priority.

After sophomore year ended, I thought our ‘friendship’ did as well and chose to block out every time we’d see each other in the halls. Just when I was getting over it - it took me the entire summer to own up - on the first day of school, he greeted me with such a subtle greeting I passed out when I reached first period.

He had remembered me.

 

Whatever type of friendship we had, seemed to blossom within the first week. We had Physics together, and during that time, he confided in me with how much he looked forward to the upcoming year. Drama would be putting on many productions due to the new Theatre teacher. Because of his persuasion - though the smile he had ended the deal fair and square - I joined Theatre Production with him.

And because of that, I knew I had one for-sure class with him this year. Well, that is, if he’s still attending Fallbrooke…

“Aw, why the sudden frown Rora?” I heard Chance beside me whisper.

 

He poked my side cautiously as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of fifth period. Shaking my head of the reminiscence of Taylor, I sighed before looking to my best friend. “Nothing. I’m just--”

“Worried about Mr. Haner?” he questioned with that smirk.

 

And then, my high crushed, being replaced with anxiety. “Not until now.” I grumbled, narrowing my eyes at my desk.

He snickered, leaning an arm onto my desk. Attentively we shared a look. He usually never did this in public. It was more of a booster to rise me out of despondency when I lashed out my hormonal feelings to him behind closed doors. Though I could literally lose my mind in Taylor’s eyes and never expect to regain it, Chance’s eyes had nothing on his.

 

For the time being, I calmed down. Most of it due to Mr. Haner not being in the classroom. Most of the other students didn’t actually bother to realize if his presence was here or not. Wondering if the last two classes of the day being shared with a close friend, was more important.

“Alright class.” spoke the voice I dreaded most, scaring the living shit out of me since he just waltzed right through the door. Even though, it was open. “Sorry I’m late.”

 

Most of the chatter died with the minimum whispers of awe. I watched as my new teacher put down a crate on the corner of his desk, filled with books. He turned, lazily placing a hand on the side of his desk as the other rested on his hip, holding himself up. He took a once over at the students in his presence before giving a small smile.

I had maybe seen Mr. Haner once or twice for the years I’ve been here. And I was always walking behind him. One of the days, he happened to be in slacks and a white dress shirt, a fedora tossed over his hair. If I believe my memory accurately, it was the afternoon of Open House. Of course he had to dress up, even if his ensemble was casual.

 

“I’m pretty sure you all know who I am.” he started out, getting affirmative answers one way or another. “And later this week we’ll do introductions so we’re not all strangers. Now, I bet most of you are a little anxious as to why I never assigned summer homework like the course requested. Summer homework for you guys, meant summer homework for me. And I strongly, [i]strongly[/i] disagree with that.”

A few girls giggled at the comment, making me purse my lips. I had totally forgotten that this class required summer homework. “And since I refused to send out notifications before the summer officially started, we have to make up the credit at the beginning of the year. So for that,” he paused, patting the crate he just set down. “we’ll be reading a novel on the Italian culture after the destruction of Pompeii.”

 

“Was that originally placed on the summer reading list?” asked a random student.

 

“No. The books listed on the state’s summer reading list, isn’t found in any library or bookstore near here.”

 

Typical. Outcast Fallbrooke High and seclude them from books? Very wise, huh, especially with the help of the internet nowadays.

“So we’ll be reading this and be over with it in two weeks.” Mr. Haner said with a simple shrug. “After the test we can move on with what’s originally on the agenda.”

 

Everyone’s gaze followed Mr. Haner’s actions when he walked behind his desk and pulled out his swivel chair, taking a seat. Mine, however, darted around the room discreetly. Every desk was full, leaving none spare for whom I hoped would share this class with me. I only recognized a few students who were in the same English class last year with Chance and I, but other than that, no sight of Taylor. I let out a soft sigh through my nose before returning my attention to the front of the room where Mr. Haner was calling out names from a sheet of paper to retrieve their books.

After the fourth student was called, the whispers escalated to random tones of high pitched and low pitched voices. Chance took the opportunity to scoot his desk beside mine, mimicking his actions from earlier this morning. Seeing as lunch was afterwards, we discussed the most important topic that could be discussed throughout the eight hours or so at Fallbrooke.

 

“Nah. Last year the lasagna was shit. I actually think the meatloaf is a safer bet, and you know you saw it jiggle more than the jell-o.”

 

“Well what about the bacon cheeseburgers? They weren’t too bad last year.”

 

“The lettuce and tomatoes Donna puts on them completely soaks right through the cheese. If you want a moist patty in between two soggy buns…”

 

“Okay then. You liked the spaghetti, especially when they had meatball madness Mondays.”

 

“Yes, but only when Matilda cooked the spaghetti. Miss ol’ Mattie told me she was quitting. And that leaves Donna to cook it, and her sub sandwiches taste like Carina’s jell-o meatloaf.”

 

“Is there anything you’ll agree on?” I sighed out, staring at Chance dejectedly.

 

“Karen’s nachos.” he grinned before putting a finger up when his named was called up.

 

Sighing out once again, I propped my elbows on the desk to cradle my cheeks in my palms. Freshmen year Chance made it a priority to stick in touch with each of the four lunch ladies. At some points, he had his lunch customized to his liking for being ‘such a charming boy’. It paid off for Riza and I occasionally, but it was obvious that Chance was their favorite. Now that Chance’s favorite lunch lady supposedly quit, he’d probably deny anything cooked by Donna, who seemed to taking a real interest into my best friend.

“But I will, however, be willing to try Carina’s Chipotle salad and Karen’s orange chicken platter.”

 

I turned my head to Chance who plopped back into his seat, dropping the novel onto his desk. My eyes glanced at it briefly, since I could not, for the life of me, interpret Italian. I was taking Latin for a reason.
 

“I love Karen’s rice.” I agreed, nodding along with Chance’s small one.

 

“Speaking of.” he paused, pulling his backpack up from resting on the floor. I leaned up slightly to catch a glimpse of what he was digging for, only to roll my eyes and sit back. “Want some?”

I giggled when he wiggled the flaming hot Cheeto in my face before I parted my lips for him to slip it in. Chance always came prepared. Our sophomore year he went out for track and found it completely difficult to only stick to a regular three day balanced diet. Instead, his cravings jumped to over seven meals, four ‘snacks’ a day in between the classes we shared. He finished the season proudly, but never went out for another sport. Now it was out of habit that he packed his bag with food to entertain us throughout the day.

 

Just as Chance was going to shove a handful in his mouth, he paused short when Mr. Haner’s serene voice spoke out.

“Now that everyone has their books, please turn to page five.”

 

My eyebrows immediately furrowed. Chance and I turned to each other with a confused look, him dropping his gaze to my empty desk before returning his gaze to my eyes. He quickly shoved the chips into his mouth, chewing hastily before swallowing and raising his hand.

“Excuse me?” Chance’s voice practically yelled out, making me hide my face behind my hair.

 

The anxiety slowly returned when silence dawned on the entire room. All eyes were in my general direction. My eyes fluttered when I tried swallowing the gulp choking me to death, violent blue whirls forming on the back of my eyelids.

“Yes?”

“My friend here doesn’t have a book.”

 

Glancing through my lashes, I noticed Mr. Haner staring at Chance who still had his hand raised in the air. Before I could whisper for him to drop it, a few other students voiced that they were in the same predicament as I.

Chance patted my back assuringly when Mr. Haner returned to his spot behind his desk. “Be thankful I spoke up for you.” Chance cast me a tantalizing smirk.

 

“He probably only acknowledged you because you have bright orange crumbs on your lips.” I poked where the specks of Cheetos decorated his pink lips.

His eyes darted down to where my finger was before he puckered them up, flicking his tongue over them slowly. I chuckled, only to stop short from Mr. Haner requesting those who didn’t receive a book to walk up to his desk.

 

Only seven other students weren’t originally called up. None of them seemed familiar. And if I did happen to share a class with them in the past, they drastically changed over the summer. They definitely had the bodies of a senior.

“Do you know what the title says?” asked the boy who stood in front of me, gingerly holding the book in his palm. Mr. Haner nodded, looking up from the piece of paper that had a list of students’ names. “Did you already know how to pronounce it?”

 

“Psh please, I looked it up on Google.”

I giggled along with the rest of those waiting in line as the boy moved out of the line. My fingers twiddled with the other when I took a step forward, looking down at the papers scattered on his polished maple wood desk.

 

“Well I’m out of books. I only had thirty-four.” Mr. Haner spoke when he turned away from his computer screen.

He swiveled in his chair when he locked eyes with mine, searching through a binder on one of the shelves to the side. The chatter behind me dulled out most of what was being said, but I could distinctively hear Chance’s voice among the rest. I withheld the eye roll from his questions about the lunch specials.

 

“Apparently, you seven weren’t filed into my system so that’s why I didn’t call you up. I only had one extra book, and that went to David.”

We all turned to see who he pointed to, us all nodding from recognizing him as the first boy in line before us. “But I can get the rest tomorrow so you’ll have it in time for this class.”

 

My breath immediately shortened for some reason, and I noticed my voice began to falter on me. I tried to force my heart to calm down. I could not have an anxiety attack right here, right now. A stabbing jolt pricked in back of my head, irking the entire left side of my head. I blinked numerous times to regain proper vision, each time failing and darkening with each try. Licking my lips, I tried once again.

I clasped my hands together, hiding my fingernails digging into the soft flesh from my long sleeves hovering below my knuckles. Tentatively, I sunk my teeth into the inside of my cheek to draw out the sensitive tendon. Usually the pain always calmed me down for a short period of time. And I desperately needed it to work for the time being. At lunch I’d tell Riza and she’d give me her little cure.

 

As I regained some consciousness, I blacked out on Mr. Haner’s explanation. Thankfully though when my hearing became intact again, he was pulling out a piece of paper instead of printing one from the computer as he did with those who received the books.

 

“ID number?”

I took a swift gulp before taking a step closer so my hips were just inches away from the tip of his desk. “Seven, one, zero, seven, three, seven.”

 

“Name?”

 

“Aurora Deneuve. D E N E U V E.” I spelled out when his hand paused after writing my first name.

 

“Aurora.” he spoke inquisitively before averting his gaze to mine, my throat clamping up which made a tiny gasp flow through my throat. “Pretty name, for a pretty girl.”

 

The anxiety that had just about devoured me vanished in a flash, almost rendering me unconscious from the sudden rush to my head. My vision had cleared to one hundred percent with one blink and my hearing wasn’t faint as it had been a matter of eight seconds ago.

 

Slightly flustered, I gave a small smile with a head nod to go along. “Thank you.”

 

He returned the smile and I walked out of line, letting out the breath I had been holding in since I first left my seat. Chance patted the seat before I sat in it, my breathing trembling, but for under different circumstances from before.