prep rally

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Margos POV

Max and I have been taking the bus recently. Sometimes we'll skateboard to school like we used to. The bus is just faster though. And since one of us is almost always with each other, it's better than being alone. Just because we're constantly side by side doesn't mean we keep up with talking all the time. I decided to wear my long overalls with a red long sleeve shirt today. We're currently just now getting off of the bus, this morning. We both have a cassette tapes playing and headphones on. The student counselor stopped us both as soon as we got off the bus.
"Hey girls. Max! Max! Where were you yesterday?" The counselor asks max.
"Oh yeah, sorry I forgot it was Thursday." Max responds to her. I know she just doesn't want to go, I don't blame her.
"I'd like to see you today. Come after lunch, okay?" She tells max. Max gives her a nod. Then, she looks at me, here we go.
"Margo, would you like to come after max?" She asks me.
"Absolutely not." I give her a fake smile and walk away with Max. Oh lovely, a school prep rally. At least it's Friday. We all collide together into the gym. We find Mike and Dustin, so we sit next to them. All these kids have really grown this year. Mike looks completely different. I finally take off my headphones and shove them in my bag. The band is playing loudly and the cheerleaders are dancing. This is gym is too loud. I look over and see Robin playing the trumpet. I laugh at myself seeing her in her little costume, she looks cute. Then, some basketball players come out and talk about their upcoming championship game. God it's Jason, I hate this guy. He really thinks he's the shit. Oh blah talk about your love for your little prissy girlfriend, ya ya. He starts to talk about the loss of Hawkins, part of me gets scared. Why is he talking about everyone who died recently? A basketball game is coming up not war. Then, I hear him say "think of Billy." Fuck this shit, I can't deal with this. I see how max looks as well and decide to leave. I shout fuck you and quickly run out of the gym. No one cares of course, I know some people saw though. I hope you lose your stupid game Jason. He didn't care for Billy, hell he didn't know him. Without Billy gone, Jason would be nothing. I stop running and lean on some lockers behind me.
"Margo!" I hear someone yelling behind me. I held my hands in Billy's jacket. I wasn't sad, I was just mad.
"Hey, Jason's an ass, okay?" Eddie says and I nod.
"Yeah he is. Dumbass brings up death like we're in some war." I reply and nudge Eddie.
"You okay?" Eddie asks me. He knows the answer but I'm actually not so bad right now.
"I am." I shake my head and walk with him. The prep rally will be done soon. I better find max, we have a class together.
"Later Ed's." I wave him bye and run off. I toss on my headphones to drown out any thoughts. People invade the halls and I finally found max. She was walking down the hallway, I smiled and went beside her. She was listening to music as well, so we just continued to walk together. She, of course, had running up that hill playing. While I had don't fear the reaper playing in my ears. That's all I could focus on, was mine and Billy's song. It used to hurt to listen to it, now it makes me remember my happiness, when he was still here. Max and lucas catch eyes as we pass him. I know she's been pushing him away recently. Ever since her nightmares started. I feel so bad for her. I've tried to let her know that he cares and doesn't understand what she's going through. She thinks differently though. I can only try to help her so much. Plus, she's gotta figure it out on her own. We passed Chrissy Cunningham, the head cheerleader and Jason's princess. She did not look okay, I guess she came from the counselors office. One reason why I refuse to talk to some random person about my problems, they'll just make me upset. I'm already upset, almost all the time. I don't need someone to remind me of everything that happened and then tell me how to get better. I'll be fine. Maybe if these nightmares could stop then I'd be better.

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