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“Does she ever?” Ashleigh shrugged. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Judgment free zone.”
“I know.” I nodded. “I’d better go before she makes a scene.” I took off down the hall and knocked on the guidance counsellor’s door.
“Come in,” she said, beckoning me inside.
“Hey, Mrs. B.”
“Take a seat, Lily.”
“I know my dad probably asked you to check in on me, but it isn’t necessary—”
“Sit,” she said, steepling her fingers.
Reluctantly, I sat down.
“How are things?”
“Fine.”
“Fine?” Her brow rose. “You know fine is often code fornot fine.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint, but everything is fine.”
“Lily, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said, feeling my throat go dry.
“Did you narrow down a list of colleges yet? When we spoke over the summer you still hadn’t decided.”
That was the downside of your dad working at the high school and being friends with the guidance counsellor. There was no escaping her need to impart guidance. Mrs. Bennet and her husband, Asher—my dad’s best friend—had been over at our house the other week, and she and Mom had been quizzing me and Peyton about college.
“No, but I’m working on it.” The lie rolled off my tongue. I hadn’t even looked at the list Mom and Dad had insisted I make at the beginning of summer break.
How could I possibly think about college when sometimes just getting through a day at high school seemed like an impossible feat?
“Good. I want to see your top three schools by the end of the month. You need to get a start on those applications sooner rather than later.”
The walls began to close in around me. I needed to get out of here. I needed some fresh air.
“Lily?” Mrs. Bennet frowned. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Can I go now?” I stood.
“Of course. I’ll check in again soon.”
“Okay, thanks.” Hurrying from her office, I took off down the hall toward the girl’s bathroom.
It was empty, thank God. I ran the faucet and splashed some water on my face, focusing on my breathing. My heart was racing in my chest like a runaway train.
Gripping the edge of the counter, I sucked in a big greedy breath. “You’re in control,” I whispered. “You’ve got this.”
But I felt like I was unravelling. It was silly, but logic didn’t factor into an anxiety attack.
It was a silent enemy, sneaking up on you when you least expected it. Except, its treacherous fingers had been reaching for me over the last few weeks. The pressure of senior year, college… the future, it was proving to be too much, and I felt completely overwhelmed.
Emotion rose inside me like a tidal wave, battering my insides.
The door swung open and sickly-sweet laughter filtered into the room.
