"Alex?"

I felt someone's hand on my shoulder through the fog and slowly turned to see someone I didn't recognize. It took a few seconds for my eyes to focus as she called me again. "Alex?"

There was an odd buzzing in my ears. I shook my head to clear it. "Yeah?"

"She just called your name," she said.

I looked to the front of the classroom, where a red-haired teacher stood.

"Right," I said, dropping my eyes to the empty notebook in front of me. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I told her you were present but feeling unwell," she continued. I racked my brains to find the girl's name. I knew her. Some part of me did. Probably the part that wasn't soaring like a kite somewhere in the back of my mind.

"Thanks," I said, taking the pen from the side of the notebook and dragging the ink into jagged, meaningless shapes. I was very aware of the vaguely familiar girl's eyes boring into me, but I was too drugged to wonder why. Nothing made sense. It's like I had studied calculus for a biology class and skipped everything in between.

My leg moved of its own accord, the searing pain necessitating some form of desperate movement at all times. My nightmares were nothing but a panoramic shot of blinding, screaming lights and a heavy feeling in my chest that seemed determined to bury me alive, making it impossible for me to rest at all. Waking up seemed like a reminder of the nightmare continuing, except now I was conscious enough to acknowledge it.

When the bell rang, I managed to gather my things and stumble out of the classroom. My phone buzzed with a calendar notification from Dr. Morello's office.

Zoom meeting at 4:30 PM. Accept/Reject

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and had just left the stuffy building when I heard someone call my name. I turned to see the 'forty two' girl again.

Haley.

The recognition hit me with a strange, delayed friction. She bounded up to me, her curly hair bouncing around her face. "Hey, Alex, glad I could catch you in time." She flashed a bright smile at me, which faltered when I didn't respond. "Um, so... are you going home?"

"No, I have something to do," I replied automatically.

"Well, free this evening? There's that new Spider-Man movie out, in 3D. I..." Her cheeks flushed bright red before she spoke, "-was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

"Yeah, right," I nodded at her, eager to get out already.

"You... didn't hear me, did you?" She took a deep breath and continued, "Would you like to go with me? To watch it?"

"Who else is going?" It was two p.m. already. I needed to leave fast.

"Nobody," she flushed brighter. "It's at the central mall."

"I'll... I'll text you," I said and turned away from her, not looking back as I hit the street buzzing with students milling out of the school building. Somehow, the cold wind around me and the ground under my soles made the searing burn dull into a persistent throb. It felt better than yesterday, somehow. Or maybe because I had actually remembered to take my medicines. My lungs weren't doing any better, however, as I huffed after just a few minutes. The sky and trees around me remained dull and silent.

I reached the lake a few minutes later, leaning over with my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Ryan's familiar silhouette was outlined against the sky, the bright sun shining off his pale skin. "Shit weather, by the way," he said without looking at me.

"Yeah," I followed his gaze into nothing. "Don't think we've ever seen a worse December."

"January," he muttered, correcting me as I shook my head, trying to get my brain cells to work in harmony. He side-eyed me, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he gazed out into the water. "How're you feeling?" he asked, turning to study me. His tan had all but disappeared, probably from being cooped up in the hospital for so long.

"Two and a half months, can you believe it? How long have you been out of the hospital?" I asked him, rubbing my face.

"A while," he answered shortly. I didn't ask him to be more specific. There was a way these conversations worked now, and pushing wasn't part of it. "Two and a half months, what?"

"Of my life," I continued, looking at him to see him gazing again into the distance, a lit cigarette between his fingers. "Just gone like that, whoosh. And I have what... three, maybe four months before the semester ends?"

"Right," he said shortly, taking a drag. "It's pretty wild."

"My brain isn't fucking braining," I admitted, shaking my head, the phantom of a rattling sound ringing in my ears. "The fucking painkillers and this and that. Apparently, I've been home for... a couple of weeks. I don't fucking remember shit."

"I tried to visit you," he said softly. "I..."

"It's fine," I said honestly. "You're beaten up too. Just... take it slow for a bit, will ya? No random rides and fucking... weed. I already feel like I'm on something way stronger."

He smirked. "Because you are."

"I hate it," I groaned. "I hate feeling like this. Some fucking out-of-body experience. Like I have all the puzzle pieces but can't-" I clapped my hands once, the sound echoing on the silent waters in front of us, "-put them together."

"You've been high before," he said softly. "With me."

"Yeah, voluntarily," I groaned, pressing onto my eyelids gently to try and get the flashing colors to die down. "This isn't high. This is... fucking bottom of the earth low."

"Sorry," he muttered, like he wasn't going through the same, if not worse, shit. He reached out his arm before presumably thinking better of it and lowering it. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he said instead. "You've got to stop doing that. Give yourself some grace."

I scoffed out a laugh that made my head hurt again. "Never thought I'd hear that word from your mouth."

"What, hard?" he giggled.

"Grace, you dumb fuck," I responded, struggling to keep my mouth from twitching. "There's a new Spider-Man movie, apparently?" I continued. "Did you know about that?"

He shrugged. "There's a new one every month. I've lost track." Then he looked at me again, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I said, averting his gaze.

We stood in quiet silence until dusk fell over the lake, making it shimmer like liquid gold. The birds chirped as they made their way home. The sound of the vehicles in the distance slowly came to a stop.

"Can I visit you? Your place? Mom's coddling me so much it's driving me crazy. And Alice is going to come back home for her spring break, and apparently, they didn't tell her the extent of... of everything." I couldn't imagine his place being any better coddling-wise, especially with how everything went down last year. But at least I'd be away from my mom's suffocating care.

He gave a low whistle. "Oh, she will not be happy to see how I busted up her little brother."

The words hung in the dusk air for a few seconds before both of us burst out laughing, making my skull throb perhaps just to remind me how unforgivable any sense of joy was. "That sounds awful."

"It is," he agreed, chuckling and reaching out to mess my hair before I ducked away successfully.

I left after a few hours, trudging back to my house, where, much to my dismay, I found my mom already in the kitchen.

"Hey, hun," she said brightly as I stepped in. "Hungry? Made some grilled chicken and broccoli."

"Okay," I answered shortly, making my way back up to my room. "When's Alice coming?"

"Next week. Working on some thesis," she answered, then immediately after, "Are you feeling okay, sweetie?" She left the kitchen to come and study me instead. "You look..." she sighed, her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned forward slightly. "You didn't have the lunch I packed for you, did you?"

"Not hungry," I said.

"You took your medicine? You were supposed to take that after lunch."

I shrugged and was about to make my way back to my room when my phone buzzed. "How's school, honey?" My mom asked as she tottered back into the kitchen, her voice unusually high-pitched.

"Normal," I responded, glancing at the message sent five hours ago.

hey so, we on? - Haley

The little numbers on the top right of my phone screen made me do a double-take. It was eight-thirty, four hours after we were supposed to meet.

"Um..." my mom started again, "she came here looking for you, you know?"

"What?" I stared at her as she peeked at me from the kitchen counter.

"The curly-haired girl. She's really sweet, asked me if you're home. Apparently, you guys had plans to meet today?" she said in a would-be nonchalant voice.

"No," I replied. "She asked, but I didn't reply."

"Why not?" she asked, rubbing her hands on a washcloth. "You love Spider-Man!"

I shrugged, trying not to wince from the sudden stab of pain in my shoulder that I should have probably felt earlier. "I'll go to sleep. I'm tired."

"Dinner?" she asked as I turned my gaze away from her face. I lowered my head before muttering a quick goodnight and hoping she wouldn't push me further.

She didn't.

I stayed up, tossing and turning. Every part of my body was hurting from missing the medicine. Or taking it. I didn't remember. The room felt too dark, too big. Too loud, even though my shallow breathing was the only sound I could hear. That's what told me I wasn't in a dream. That I was awake. Alive.

The next day at the table, my mom sat gazing at me as I ate breakfast. She was quiet, thankfully. However, after a few minutes, she spoke up. "You have paper in your hair."

"Huh?" I asked, my hand instinctively flying to my greasy hair. "Right."

I pulled a torn piece of notebook paper out of the tangles and dropped it on the table. My mom reached over and touched my hair in a way that made my world crash, and I jerked away from her.

"What the fuck?" I blurted.

Her eyes widened at my words before she collected herself and spoke, "How long since you brushed your hair, hun?"

I shrugged, finishing the last pieces of food on my plate and quickly rising to my feet.

"You need to wash your hair; it looks greasy. And messy."

I picked up my bag, raking a hand through my hair as my stomach tumbled into another chasm. I ignored her words.

"Bye," I said shortly before stepping out into the suffocating air.