CHAPTER FOUR

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Oh, no

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Oh, no.

Why did they have to show up tonight?

The kids around here are into house parties and drinking around bonfires. Very rarely, if ever, do they show up at this place. Yet, here they are. Four of them. Two girls, two guys.

I step aside as my old classmates walk through the door. They pass me by like I'm invisible, but I can't help but stare.

Shannon and Dan. Amanda and...

Jason.

I think my blood is vibrating. My nerves are on fire, my eyes glued to the tall boy who steps through last. He's got naturally tan skin, while the others, like me, are forever pale from our too-long winters. He's got deep brown eyes, and if you look close enough, you'll see a small slice of light brown in one of them, the color mysteriously washed out from his iris. He's buff and broad-shouldered, like he'd be the star quarterback of the local high school.

And he is. Or... he was. They all graduated in June.

I would have graduated with them if I hadn't dropped out.

My stomach's doing flips, and there's a terrible, bitter taste in my mouth as they all head for the last open booth.

Move!

My to-do list is shaking in my grasp, yelling at me, but I'm stuck to the floor.

My ex-classmates look like they always have. Rich. Happy. All wearing brand new clothes from stores I've never even been to. Dan and his girlfriend, Shannon, slide into the booth. Dan spent all of high school playing football and partying. He's never said a word to me, but Shannon... she's a bitch. Tall, slim, brunette. Lives in the nicest house in town, but has the worst personality.

She always had at least one snarky comment for me every day of high school. She never stopped, not even after my mom died. She was relentless, right up until the day I quit.

"Oh, I just loooove your boots, Lyric. Where can I get a pair? The farm store, right?"

"Will we see you at the Homecoming Dance? Oh... yeah... I guess you'd need a date for that. Got a secret boyfriend? Spill. Promise we won't tell."

And my favorite...

"Where'd you get those jeans? I swear I threw those in the church charity bin last week."

Her friends weren't as mean, but they laughed all the same.

Unfortunately, Shannon was right. I did get my boots at the farm store, I'd never had a boyfriend, and my jeans were from the church charity store. All my clothes were.

Amanda is Shannon's best friend but her opposite in looks. She's short and busty with corkscrew blond curls. As I stare, she slides into the other side of the booth with Jason, and my heart skips a beat. Is she dating him now?

Probably. But why should I care?

I've had a crush on Jason since ninth grade, when he moved here. But he's never noticed me, hardly talked to me, and barely acknowledged my existence beyond lending me a pencil in Algebra class. That's the only reason I know his eye color.

The four of them are scanning the laminated menus, but Amanda abruptly stops and looks up. She looks directly at me, holding my gaze. It's like she's peering into my soul and stealing all my secrets.

Warmth courses through me as I finally shake myself out of my trance. I rush behind the counter, my cheeks blazing hot.

Then I let out a laugh at how ridiculous I'm being. Amanda was probably just ready to order.

I gotta get moving. I've wasted at least five minutes, letting tons of customers wait for too long. My eyes burn, and my to-do list blurs as I stare down at it. I'm still overwhelmed.

Still way too aware that Jason's here.

Forget him!

He doesn't give a damn about me. I can't let myself care.

I banish him from my mind, or try to, and then hustle through every item on my long list.

But as I finish taking the last order, he looks right at me, not with any sort of recognition, but with the universal impatient look of "I'm ready to order now."

How long have they been waiting?

I turn heel and get the hell out of there. I'm not ready to face my classmates yet.

It's time for my medication. This brain fog is real, and it's not playing games.

As soon as Mateo has my latest orders in hand, I grab a glass of water and run down the low-lit hall toward the side door.

My jacket is on the hook where I left it, and I scramble to find the half-pill.

"Thank God." I gulp it down with a sip of water.

While I'm waiting for it to kick in, I check my face with my phone's camera. Nothing in my nose or teeth—that's good. A few wisps of my reddish-brown hair have escaped my ponytail, and they've formed into soft ringlets around my face from the humidity in here. I decide to leave them there. My face looks... like my face. All I did today was fill in my dark brows with a pencil and put a little mascara on. A light dusting of freckles is scattered across my nose, standing out on my pale skin. My eyes look blue-green right now. They tend to shift in color, depending on the light. I've got high cheekbones, which is a point in my favor, but I also have a strong, angular jaw and thin lips. And my body is just as angular as my face.

I look fierce, if you ask me.

But angular and fierce don't seem to be what guys like. They like girls who are softer and full of feminine curves.

Girls like Amanda.

I let out a sigh and put my phone away.

My heart's beating too fast, and my mouth is so dry that I chug down the rest of my water.

I always thought ADHD wasn't a real thing. I read the list of symptoms one time and laughed it off... because I had them all. I just thought everyone was a little bit ADHD. But a few months ago, a new doctor started at our local clinic. He diagnosed me immediately.

The first time I took my medication, I'll admit I may have shed a tear. Just one. Maybe.

But I am not a crier.

I am tough, and I can keep it together. I just had no idea that the tasks I found so difficult could be so much easier. No wonder people thought I was lazy and irresponsible.

Maybe I could have finished high school if I'd had the meds. Maybe my life would be different right now. Maybe...

But that ship has sailed.

I smile as my medication finally hits me.

I imagine it's like putting on glasses when you're half-blind.

A light switches on in the center of my brain. Everything comes into sudden, sharp focus.

All the excess sights, sounds, smells, and thoughts of this night and this place fade away, inconsequential.

The fog recedes.

If there's any magic in this world, it must be in these tiny blue pills.

I'm calm. Calmer than any imaginary bubble could make me.

Now I'm ready.

I hurry back down the hall to the main dining area.

Most of my customers seem fine, but my ex-classmates are actively looking for me.

I get out my notepad and make a beeline for their table.

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