Overcast | ✓

The Battle of Summerfield High

There's an eerie silence through my house once the sun sets. My parents sleep, Elio studies, I watch films. That's how every night goes. But, today, I don't pull out my laptop as I enter my bedroom. I simply stand there, in the doorway, and stare at the mess I have created. The photos and marker and pure insanity that coats my room makes my stomach twist. After a while, I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I feel like an idiot. All this time, it was Ruby and I had no idea. I wasn't paying attention. I never pay attention. I didn't realize everything and now, it's almost too late. Almost.

I know now that there is a group of people, and this group is showing up early tomorrow. I'll be there, too. I have no idea what they're doing or how I'll stop it, but I know I will, because I have to. If I don't, all of this was for nothing.

I spend an hour on my back before realizing that I won't be sleeping tonight and instead direct my attention to the giant wall of evidence. It feels like the Rising Unification of Ecoterrorists has taken over my entire life. It's literally permanently written on my wall. I hate it. I hate that every choice I make is dictated by these protests, by how I can stop it all. So, I take the marker from my bedside table and draw a line through the words against my wall. Then, in its place, I write, "MY NAME IS SUNNY THĮ DAVIDSON" because sometimes, I forget I have a middle name at all.

***

The moment my alarm clock clicks to 6:00 AM, I begin to get ready. I pull on my school uniform and add on a jacket and two pairs of tights because I intend on walking to school today and it is absolutely freezing outside. Driving seems like a bad idea for a number of reasons. First of all, I don't want to draw attention to myself as I pull into the school parking lot. Secondly, I haven't slept in over 95 hours, so steering a car is sort of off-limits.

Once I am certain I have adequately prepared, I leave my house as quietly as possible and begin walking. I'm not sure why, but half a mile into the journey, I grab my phone and call Maeve.

"Hello?"

"Maeve," I say through a breath.

"Sunny? Is everything alright?"

"It's good, actually. I'm doing really well. Yeah, fantastic."

"Then, shouldn't you be sleeping right now?"

"I can't," I laugh. "I'm going to put a stop to this whole protest situation. That's why I'm awake. I'm going to school."

"Wait," she says, and I hear rustling from the other end as she sits up. "Sunny, no. You cannot go there right now. What if it's dangerous?"

I shake my head, even though she can't see me. "I have to. Nobody else is doing anything about it."

"Listen, you don't know who's behind everything. They could be planning something really horrible."

"I don't care."

"Sunny, please don't-"

I hang up then because I can feel myself beginning to cry. After half an hour of walking in the cold, I arrive at the school and enter silently. The west exit door has been propped open, most likely to allow those working in the group access. I slip inside and begin to tiptoe through the hallway towards voices and rustling. The first thing I notice about arriving this early to school is how loud the plumbing is. I can hear water running down every hallway. The floor itself is wet. The second thing I notice is how every locker looks slightly like a face in the dark. Its lines are wrinkles, stretching forever. A mirror of students come 50 years.