High and Dry | miguel diaz

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THE FIRST FEW NIGHTS seemed easier than now -- sleep was all she did, but it wasn't relaxing and she didn't rest well, it was better than watching the colors outside turn from dark blues to deep oranges.

Her body was tired and sore from her lack of movement. There wasn't a routine anymore, there was no rolling out of bed to change, eat a quick breakfast and drive down to pick up her friends. It was getting out of bed once a day to shower, though she'd skipped two days now, and crawl back into the warmth of her bedsheets.

Nothing really brought her motivation, though her mom had tried; Tory was on the run and no one had heard from her since the day of the fight, the same with Robby though he actually had a family who was looking for him -- she could only imagine how Johnny was feeling, having his star pupil in the hospital and son hiding from the world in who knows what shitty places.

Though she didn't want to talk to anyone, she almost wished she had the energy to. Her phone sat on her dresser, untouched and only turning on when her mom sent her a message to make sure she was still alive, like her few friends had. Hawk was still a dick, but stopped by to check in on Ivy last week, though Dimitri had made his point clear that he didn't want anything to do with her. He was convinced she'd chosen 'a side' and his macho act jumped out when telling her. Aisha got thrown into boarding school, her parents even sold the house the very next day. And Moon, she was there, but she wasn't someone Ivy wanted to talk to.

Guilt brewed in her stomach whenever she thought about the fight, how she'd involuntarily and unknowingly started it. Tory wouldn't have attacked Sam if she hadn't been so upset over a kiss. Maybe she should have let Miguel explain, she should have answered his texts and calls when he was worrying about her the night of the party. Her mind raced with constant guilt and pain, all while feeling selfish. How could she be feeling sorry for herself when Miguel was in the hospital because of her?

Carmen hadn't given her any updates in almost a week which Ivy assumed wasn't a good sign, but she didn't dare ask Carmen. She was barely holding on and Ivy didn't want to pressure her for updates if she didn't want to give them.

Her phone chimed, her annoying alarm ringing beside her ear.

School for the first time in weeks and as much as she wished to stay rotting in bed, she knew her mom would drag her out one way or another.

"CAN I GO NOW," IVY held back a groan as the school counselor took out a notebook and a pen from a bottom drawer. She'd been taken from the front doors almost immediately after walking in after getting her backpack searched and taking a metal detector to her body. "Homeroom is in ten minutes and I don't want to be late."

"I know this is annoying to hear," the woman half-smiled, "but we are here for you, Ivory. We are a team! Teams work together and help each other, even when we think we don't need it! Now, I want you to use this notebook whenever you feel ... upset about something. No need for fists when we have these!" The manic woman exclaimed and waved a pen in the air, chuckling to herself.

Ivy felt a new lump start to form in her throat at the casual mention of fists, it all flooded back. Her hand subconsciously touched the cut that'd been stitched up. It was still wrapped in a bandage which she covered with a long sleeve, though it was almost 80 degrees out.

Before the counselor noticed, she cleared her throat and stood up. "Can I go now, homeroom starts in ten minutes, it's on the second floor and my locker's on the first."

"Sure, of course. See you next Wednesday. Oh, and welcome back Ivory!" With all the reluctance in the world, she forced a smile and walked out of the cramped office that smelled like coffee and mint.