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He slightly pulls his hand back. Usually I let Theo slide, but my test anxiety is spiked and I don’t have it in me to humor him.

“You’re really in a bad mood.”

“And you’re making it worse,” I say, almost desperate. Every moment my gaze is on him and not on my notes makes my stomach freefall and my hands puddle with sweat. “Can you care more about what I say than what you want? For literally just an hour?”

He turns, and before I breathe a sigh of relief, he places a hand over my notes again. “I didn’t realize you felt like that.”

“I feel like this because of what you do. Leave me alone.”

He bites his bottom lip, then nods before turning away. Shame crosses his features just before his back is fully to me.

Thank God.

I go back to my notes, and, thankfully, Theo doesn’t interrupt me again, though I feel his gaze often on the side of my face and it takes a minute for me not to be distracted by that.

Class begins and Mr. Henry, pacing in his perfectly tailored three-piece suit, goes over a lecture, promising to pass out the quiz at the end of class. A gift, to go over the material first, when he usually hands them out at the beginning of class. Maybe he’s in a good mood.

I take notes on everything he says, even when my hands cramp.

Most teachers make us use our school-approved laptops for working in class, but my preference has always been pen and paper. Same with Mr. Henry, who likes to print everything out and hand grade them to keep students from cheating. When he finishes his lecture, he begins passing out the quizzes.

As soon as he drops the quiz on my desk I begin. The first half is okay, not too easy, not too challenging, but the last set of questions have multiple questions within them and those take up more of my time.

Soon my eyes grow a little heavy. I peek up at Mr. Henry, who is reading some tiny novel in his hands, and sneak a jalapeño from my pocket. I take a bite out of the end, softly to minimize the crunch, and feel my face twitch from the burning heat of it scalding my tongue.

I rushed out this morning and didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast, so I feel the burning spilling down my throat and landing in my chest as I make it to the final question.

For some reason the question’s wording feels like a riddle—my tired brain either can’t make sense of the way it’s phrased or maybe it’s intentionally opaque. When I shut my eyes and try to think about the answer, everything in my head goes blurry.

Another bite of the jalapeño does nothing but add a pain to the center of my chest, and the blur becomes this haze I can’t pick out words from, let alone whole sentence answers.

It feels like someone is holding a heavy rock over my chest, slowly loosening their hold so the pressure builds and builds there, and it makes my speeding heart rate feel dull and distant, hidden in thickness.

A strange disconnect builds from my body and my hand; I feel them shaking but they also feel no longer attached, or like I no longer have control of my fingers.

I try breathing through my nose, closing my eyes to center myself, but the feeling grows.

The bell rings, the loud shudder of noise breaks through, and awareness floods me. I hadn’t even realized Mr. Henry collected my paper. I didn’t finish the quiz. I didn’t finish the final question.

Never, in my entire life, have I not finished my work. Ever.

The pressure in my chest builds even more now. I gather all my things, my hands trembling as I struggle to get a solid grip on anything, and rush out. I need air. I need space.

I failed.

CHAPTER 13

Notes and Observations

Important Case Notes:

Masy Rose—Influencer Event—10/7 (Samantha, Rachel, Chloe all in attendance!!)

Twenty feet and seven inches south from the school’s entrance, three feet to the right, seventy-degree angle (exact lineup of sky shot)

No other notes, just writing this down because Theo keeps looking at me. This way I can pretend I don’t see him.

I’m outside in the cold under the bleachers. It feels quiet here, solitary, surrounded by air that I’m trying so hard to breathe in.