Since Feeling Is First

Chapter Seven

The second day of school is much like the first, and so is the third and the fourth and the fifth, and then, finally the weekend comes after making you wait for far too long. Everything is very much the same: everyone still stares at and whispers about you, Vince has thrown himself into his writing, and Jacy hasn't said anything to anyone you know since Monday so Micah agonizes over whether or not he was just screwing around. But Audrey booked an appointment with a therapist for next Wednesday, which is when the art club usually is, so when she doesn't come home right away there won't be any suspicion about where she's been. You'll drive her, you say, because the first appointment is one of the hardest and she probably won't want to have to take the bus home alone.

"Okay," she says. "But I don't expect you to do this every time, okay?"

"I know. But I will if you need me to."

She smiles, and when she curls her hands around your jaw and you rest your hands on her hips and she kisses you, it's a little different, a little surer. Like she's not afraid she'll break you anymore.

Like it used to be.

—

The weekend passes by much too fast and much too warm for this time of year, and by the time you go back to school on Monday the highs are forecasted to be in the mid-forties for the week. You pack your hat and scarf and gloves in your bookbag, just in case, but all you really need is a heavy hoodie and you're good to go. A few people even come in without jackets or sweaters at all.

This time, Audrey waits for you by the front doors instead of in the art room, and you walk to your first class together. Maybe it will be different today, you think as you open the door, but even as you step inside, you can feel the air change and the bustle quiets to a murmur, and you know it won't be. Not yet, at least.

You never really liked school all that much, but you never hated it, either, you never dreaded it, not until now. The only people who treat you normally are your friends and Ms. W. Even your other teachers treat you differently, now. It's subtle. They're nothing like the students are. But they suddenly seem a little extra worried about inadvertently offending you and they never ask you to come up to the board to write something out or stand in front of the class and talk anymore. They don't even call on you to read, and that's your thing. Everyone likes your reading, even the people who don't like you.

After art is over, lunch is the highlight of your day. You and Audrey and your small group of friends sit outside, on a low brick wall surrounding a planter that, right now, is just full of dirt. Micah and Kelly sit on the ground between you and Vince sits on Audrey's other side as you just talk, talk about anything and everything and nothing, about stupid TV and the books you have to read in English class and what you're going to submit to the art show this year (because here, there is no 'if').

You're in the middle of asking whether you should try to continue working on your painting or focus on your drawing, because by the time the pieces are due, you'll only have had time to do one or the other. Micah turns around and props his elbow up on your knee. "Well, with drawing you have a lot more options," he says. "But with painting, you have watercolor, which is probably the easiest medium to learn. Or relearn, I guess. Maybe you could --" he trails off when your gaze leaves his for the boy suddenly, nervously standing behind him.

"Wha --" Micah turns around and almost chokes. It's Jacy.

"Hey, Micah," he says softly.

Micah suddenly and completely loses any semblance of cool he may have had before when he says, breathlessly, "You know who I am?"

Jacy grins and says, "Well, yeah, we've been in English class together since August."

"O – oh, yeah. Yeah, of course," Micah laughs nervously.