Nervous butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I made the finishing touches on my Monday outfit; skinny jeans, long sleeved maroon top and, of course, my trusty Monday beauties. No one ever saw my underwear but just knowing they matched the day of the week made me feel in control.

As per my plan, I wore my hair down and kept it straight using straighteners, taking extra care when nearing the area towards the base of my skull. That part took most of the impact when I fell doing a red run in Switzerland. I was a confident skier, yet all it took was a moment of distraction for my entire world to come crashing down. I had no memory of what happened but witnesses said I lost my balance and landed on my neck. Afterwards, I was airlifted to hospital, where I spent the following few weeks in ICU.

Great vacation for the Monroe family.

"You up, pumpkin?" asked Dad, peeking his head through the slight crack in my door.

Upon seeing me awake and dressed, he fully entered my bedroom and paid special attention to the many post-it notes decorating my wall.

"Have you been planning again?"

I followed his gaze towards a cluster of notes labelled, 'FIRST DAY OF JUNIOR YEAR!' and offered him a coy smile.

"Maybe?"

He smirked. "Go on, then. Run me through it."

He sat himself down on the edge of my bed and gestured for me to continue.

"Well, in order to avoid feeling...umm...feeling..."

I bit my lower lip in an attempt to gather my thoughts, though the action proved fruitless. I became angry and restless in my need to wait for such a simple word to present itself.

"Take your time, Maddison," encouraged Dad, somehow sensing my frustrations.

Why can't I do this?

"In order to avoid feeling...UGH!" I closed my eyes and pictured myself holding the blue ball of peace and focused wholeheartedly on the warm energy passing through my hands as a result of my imagination. Caroline taught me this technique a few weeks ago and had encouraged me to use it whenever I felt...THAT'S IT!

"Overwhelmed!" I delighted, happy to have finally got it.

"Well done," he praised, knowing full well that very situation would've ended in me having a meltdown at the beginning of my recovery.

"Thanks. So, as I was saying, in order to avoid feeling overwhelmed, I've decided to ask to be seated close to the door. That way, if I need to leave I can do so discreetly."

"Good idea."

"And, in between each class, I will hang back slightly. I don't want to be in the hallway when it's overcrowded. I might knock my head or something."

"Sounds like you have it all worked out," he stated, rubbing his hands together in glee. "Now, how about some porridge to set you up for a good day?"

"Don't forget the blueberries. They're supposed to stimulate the brain," I informed, checking over my outfit for the hundredth time.

I followed him downstairs and into the kitchen, clicking on the kettle as I passed. Pink post-it notes littered the cupboards, each one full of various instructions.

"Tea?" I asked, reaching for two mugs.

"Please," replied Dad, dispersing some porridge oats into a pan.

I set about prepping our beverages and silently congratulated myself when I managed the task without looking at the steps. It was the little things that made me realise I was improving. Small but significant.

"Gooood morning, beautiful humans!"

The sound of my best friends entering from the back door came as no surprise. They'd long forgotten their manners and deemed knocking like normal people an unnecessary inconvenience.

"You two are early," stated Dad, unbothered by their refusal to await invitation before entering the premises.

"Time keeping is of utmost importance today," explained Nikita, throwing me a wink.

Dad nodded, seemingly in agreement.

"Nice outfit," mocked Toby, eyeing my maroon top with trepidation. "Is it new?"

I tossed him a filthy glare and lightly flicked him on the shoulder. He knew all about my 'an outfit a day keeps the mood swings away' motto, yet every now and then threw shade my way for the sake of being utterly hilarious.

Note the sarcasm.

"Would you guys like some porridge?" asked Dad, gesturing towards the bubbling substance.

Toby looked genuinely insulted. "Umm...no. I don't normally eat wallpaper paste for breakfast."

Dad turned in his stance and jokingly winked at me. "Remind me again why you're friends with this one?"

Toby gasped.

"I'm kidding," he insisted, patting him on the shoulder.

My wounded friend sat himself down on the stool to my left, nudging my arm as he went. Nikita positioned herself on the other vacant stool and accepted my Dad's kind offer for a bowl.

"So, what's the plan of action for today?" she asked, organised, like me.

"I'm doing three lessons. History and double English."

"Not bad. Both easy subjects."

Yeah, easy for you to say!

"At least you don't have economics," moaned Toby, bitching about the subject for no apparent reason other than the fact he found it boring.

His genius mind lived for science. Give Tobias Cunningham a periodic table and he was happy.

"I have Spanish first period," groaned Nikita, unimpressed. "As if Monday's aren't bad enough."

Her speciality was math.

"You kids haven't even gone back yet and you're already moaning," accused Dad, spooning some blueberries onto mine and Nikita's plate and offering Toby some toast.

"We're teenagers, babes. It's what we do best."

"Did you just call Maddie's dad, babes?" enquired Nikita.

We both giggled.

"Yes, he did," informed Dad, gesturing towards Toby's untouched toast. "Now eat up, sugar plum."

I cracked a smile at their shenanigans, appreciating their need to act normal on a day of utmost importance. They knew I was nervous. Hell, we all were. This was our first day of junior year. Anything could happen. Anything at all.

****

Orientation was uneventful. I was handed my new timetable (even though my doctors and I were emailed a copy months ago) and was told to smile at the camera in order to receive an ID badge. The entire time I waited in line for my card to print, I felt eyes on me. People whispered but not quietly enough. They wanted to know if I could still function normally. Still walk, talk and breathe. Nikita once told me there was a rumour going around that half of my face had caved in due to my fall. Of course, that was not the case but I caught people sneaking a peek. Perhaps they were disappointed?

"I bet I look like a cross between Kermit the frog and Kanye West on my photo," expressed Toby, joining me at the back of the queue.

Nikita was still having her photo taken.

"I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or not?" I asked, picking up on another conversation happing further down the line.

"I heard she couldn't even feed herself at the beginning."

"Yeah! My Mom saw her dad at the grocery store a few weeks ago. He looked exhausted."

"He probably can't sleep at night knowing his daughter has a brain condition. I've been told she can't be trusted on her own."

Rage tore through my body but rather than allowing it to consume me, I shook off their meaningless gossip and focused my attention on Toby. He was mid-way through describing what Kermit the frog and Kanye West's baby would look like when Nikita joined us, smiles all around.

"Chase Samuels is looking good in those jeans," she acknowledged, nodding in his general direction.

We both followed her gaze towards Chase by the sign-in desk and appreciated the sight before us.

"Yeah, I see it," agreed Toby, more interested in the guy stood next to him–Warren Baxter.

"I thought you were over Chase?" I asked, trying my hardest to keep up.

She'd been crushing on him since middle school.

"I was but I'm a sucker for boys in skinny jeans."

"Amen," preached Toby, throwing his hands up in a claim to reach the high heavens.

I rolled my eyes at their behaviour and stopped dead in my tracks. That's impossible. The boy in my dreams–the one I was supposed to have made up according to Caroline–stood slightly to the right of the sign-in desk, chatting to a girl I recognised as being in my grade yet for the life of me, couldn't remember her name. Hair the shade of chocolate. Eyes a deep green like cut grass on a hot, summers day. There was no denying it was him but who the hell was he?

"Who's that?" I asked, before truly thinking things through.

This was clearly a trick of the imagination.

"Jessica West?"

"No, the guy she's talking to," I persisted, now staring directly at him.

Toby squinted his eyes, going in for a better look. "I've no idea. Maybe he's new?"

"So, we don't know him?" I questioned, attempting to calm my wildly beating heart.

Toby glanced to Nikita for confirmation.

"No, we don't know him. Why?"

The pair shared a quick look, clearly concerned.

"No reason. I just didn't recognise him."

The last thing I wanted was to tell them about my dreams. I'd sound utterly crazy admitting something like that.

"Who's next?" interrupted Mrs. Hopkins, manning the table distributing ID badges.

Having seen me, she offered up a blinding smile. "Maddie, how are you?"

"Good, thanks. Yourself?"

I recognised her from mine and Dad's meeting with the school last month.

"I will be once I get through this queue," she whispered, gifting me a quiet laugh.

I smiled at her and accepted my card, throwing a friendly, "Thank you" her way shortly after. I then moved on and waited by the bleachers, not wanting to proceed onto the next part without Toby and Nikita. I still required their presence and after what had just happened, I was slowly questioning my sanity. It couldn't be him, could it?

As if no longer in control of my body, I found myself seeking him out, desperate for validation. Anything to confirm I wasn't going mad. In no time, I spotted him. LOOKING. RIGHT. AT. ME. Huge, green eyes shone bright under the gym's lights and bore into mine, intensifying our stare off of sorts. A connection so deep and powerful passed between us, unexplainable to anyone watching from the side lines. His mouth tipped up in what seemed to be a half smile and although confused, I caught myself smiling right back.

"Check you out flirting with the new guy!" accused Toby, delighted to have stumbled upon such a thing.

"Shut up, I wasn't!" I defended, wafting his arm.

Soon, Nikita joined us and off we went, though not before I risked another glance towards the new guy. As suspected, he was looking at me again. Reading me. Stripping back my defences.

Wow.

My body went cold, yet somehow sweat poured from my every crevice. Who was this guy? And more importantly–did we know each other?

***

Serious question...what would you do in Maddie's situation?

A) Run away
B) Approach the new guy and GET ANSWERS
C) Run away again?