My 1st Prom

Date: 26/6, Mon

  The 4th day of throat pain hurts so bad. Luke recovered from his. I can't talk or blow my nose or eat without my throat stinging. My voice changed, auto-tuning everything I've said. In throat candy commercials, there's a volcano erupting in a throat, and it's exactly like that. I can't get water down. Luke claims the pain peaks after medication and my throat might -might- recover after a few more days. On the bright side, my period isn't hurting. Not that anyone in school cares, I stay out of their business and they stay out of mine. Wearing a medical mask is a solid excuse for my classmates to treat me the way they used to. Apple rests her butt on my table, 'How are you doing?' I make an ok sign.

'Who could've seen this coming? Celestia's not immune to her own M germs!' Eva maintains a safe distance from me and strikes home with the comment. I want to shove her down the stairs. 'Face it, germs are in your blood, whether you want it or not.' She taunts again. Now I want to push her off the roof. Keeping her distance, she puts on a mask too. Copycat. Apple frowns, 'Go away.' 'Why doesn't Celestia go away?' Eva asks back. 'Did you think I'd choose to stay if I'm able to leave?' I rasp. The girl who sits in front of Nick in French pops up from nowhere and drags her away, squealing about the latest handbag.

Apple holds up a paper bag at lunch. 'I got you a necklace. That took me hours to choose.' I cough, 'Thanks!' Apple adopts a smug smile, 'This isn't any ordinary necklace, there's an alphabet letter.' She takes it out and swings it. I try taking a closer look at the moving object, 'You customized it for me? It looks ...' -It's the letter A.- '...lovely.' I mumble after a brief pause. 'Wear it! It will look good on you.' Apple suggests. Since when do I belong to her? 'No thanks. I assumed you bought a C, A isn't my style,' my voice cracks painfully. Apple is very insistent, 'You think I don't know that? I bought it for you because it's bloody A! Why don't you wear it as our friendship token?' Because it's nothing more than a leash. 'Nah, I'm good. Go for a "C",' I slip into a cough, throat throbbing, 'we're still buddies.' Nick -mid-conversation with his friends- glances at me in alarm, I accidentally look into his enticing brown eyes -they seem to pull me in- and he turns away. Oh well. Apple argues, 'I don't care! Either wear it or change your goddamn name so it starts with "A" !' That girl's sticky as caramel. 'No-' I cough uncontrollably, my throat hurting too much to talk. Nick suddenly joins in, 'Leave her alone-'

'Can I borrow your lovely necklace?' XYZ chimes in, certainly eavesdropping. I take in her haggard condition: frizzy hair, dry lips and dark eye circles. Did I look like that ? It's only been a week -counting today- XYZ's been treated as a social outcast for siding with me. She looks as though she's been fighting against dark emotions all her life, suffering in a way dying plants do. A tidal wave of guilt crashes into me. What should I d- 'Sure,' Apple is super flattered as XYZ gleefully admires it. 'Celestia hasn't touched it yet,' Apple spitefully jabs, so 'it's M germs free.' Emotions hurt more than my throat, I fire back, 'Fine, if you're scared of M germs, stay away from me!' Another ordinary fallout that's part of our unexplainable friendship cycle. XYZ plonks the accessory down on the table, 'Let's eat together.' 'Oh yeah,' I hastily accept her invite, 'sure.' 'Bye girl,' XYZ trills her parting shot to Apple, 'we done here.' We leave Apple spewing something I choose not to catch.

'Are you ok?' I ask. 'I've never been better, doing pretty fine. In fact, I'm totally ok.' XYZ avoids my gaze. 'I get it, you seem quite on edge,' I open my lunchbox, 'M germs strike again.' She exhales, 'I'm not on edge, I'm edgy in the fashionable sense. Everyone avoids me, there's nothing more to it.' 'Anything else?' I push. 'I'm more worried about you,' she pushes back, 'Eva's always trying to make your life suck.' I dramatically gesture to my throat. XYZ shoots me an apologetic smile, 'I forgot. Sore throat.' She munches on her sandwich, 'What will you do about M germs?' Shaking my head, I mouth 'Summer vacay.'

'Do you want to change your life?' XYZ knows snitching won't help. 'There's nothing we can do.' We both understand asking adults for help isn't an option. 'Can you be super honest with me for a second?' She wipes her mouth, 'M germs aren't real.' I nod once, scooping a spoonful of food into my mouth. Whispering isn't as painful as swallowing rice. 'How does it feel?' She carefully asks. 'I'm a catcher in Tag that lasts for eternity.' I swallow hard, 'The thing is, even if I tag another player, I'm always the catcher.' 'I think I understand.' 'That's not it, I think I've replaced Gyan.' A certain weight vanishes off my shoulders, I've rarely gone this far before. XYZ stays wordless. I shut my eyes, feeling prickles. 'And if I replaced him, someone -maybe you, I don't know will- take my place. I thought everyone is irreplaceable.' She consoles me by putting her arm on my shoulders, 'You're not the only victim around here. I managed to offend everyone by breathing.' 'Yah, I guess.' I wait for her to interrupt, 'It's so easy to offend them.' 'Ok, it doesn't mean you deserve to be hated though,' XYZ says. It's not much, but I feel safe enough to carry on. My emotions are on the cliff of holding back. 'It gets lonely fast.' The words come out and I know how badly I've always wanted to talk to someone. 'I just want this whole M germs thing to stop.... Wait. Why are we doing therapy?'

'Eat some meat girl, you're kinda skinny.' XYZ squeezes my shoulder, 'I haven't said "tag, you're it" to anyone in class, should I?' 'That's not a terrible idea,' I force-feed myself, 'it's a reckless idea.' 'Not just anyone,' XYZ relaxes, ' I could tag a friendly person who won't really mind.' 'Who doesn't really mind?' I echo, 'Who?' She turns her head this way and that, 'A guy who's kinda fond of you.' The "kinda" is emphasised. She goes across the room, 'Watch me.' She doesn't stop until she's standing next to a gaggle of students cracking up and chatting. They stop what they're doing. XYZ pats a brown haired boy on his shoulder, 'Tag, you're it. I'm kidding.' She gets quite some condescending looks. 'Oh hey, tag you back on Instagram,' Nick jokes humorously, sticking out his tongue at her. His friends use alcohol swabs to rub the spot XYZ touched as he mildly protests. She mouths 'hot damn' at me before pretending to fan herself with a hand, 'mind the inconvenience, Nick?' 'Not at all,' Nick glances at me too -apparently aware-, then flashes his ever famous million dollar smile at XYZ. I painfully swallow a spoonful of rice. XYZ's trying hard not to grin at me, 'YOLO!'

'Hey cutie!' Nick's earphones lie in his open palm, his iPad on his lap, 'You interested?' It's now after school. This guy just slid down the stairs, plopped down beside me on a bench and started talking. And if I wasn't mistaken, he was trying to make me jealous at lunch. Even without my throat pain, I'm not going to fall for it.

'In you?' I raise an eyebrow before shoving one earbud into my ear, 'Possibly.'

He plugs it in his device, busying himself by pressing the volume buttons. I watch S1G2 people leave school in clusters. 'Aren't you going to listen?' I suggest, whispering hoarsely, 'And what happened to your AirPods?'

Nick lifts a shoulder, 'HEAR I am, thinking you don't want to talk. I left mine at home.' 'You stood up for me today, thanks,' I half smile. My reluctance to chat gradually vanishes, 'If I had to choose between nightcore and your voice, I'd choose nightcore.' 'And if I get to choose,' he puts the other earbud in his ear, 'I'd rather listen to myself.'

My throat erupts so painfully I squeeze my eyes shut. Then a cold and wet and slippery object unexpectedly thrusted into my hands. My fingertips go numb from patting the wet, freezing surface, holding a cube shaped container. 'I got you milk, cutie,' Nick's voice says, 'shut up if it hurts.' I open my eyes and twist the cap off, totally a blushing mess. None of the S1G2 people -absolutely none- look our way. 'Never thought you liked fussing,' I take tiny sips, pointing to my surprisingly non-hurting throat, 'well? Are you choosing today, or am I?'

He picks a pop song, an all-time worldwide classic. 'Your taste in music is different from what I've assumed,' I'm bold all of a sudden. 'Awwwwww,' he makes puppy dog eyes, 'how often do you think of me?' 'In your dreams,' I murmur, heart flipping over.

'One more thing, Celestia-' his words have an undertow that makes me meet his brown eyes, '-you should speak up more. Ariel the mermaid didn't realise how important her voice was until she traded it.' I look away flustered -pleasantly surprised he cares- but not without deliberately elbowing his side.

He presses play. We sit in silence, enjoying pop. I could've sworn his hand is on my back, but I don't dare look.  

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Aaawwwww! (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) Any ideas on a good ship name? Nicklestia / Celestick / Nicktia / Celick or any other combos ?  

Oooooh and can I get a vote ?