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April exhaled, a plume of smoke spiraling up towards the ceiling. She leaned her head back against the cool, grimy tiles of the toilet wall, her eyes shut tight. Her headphones rested securely on her head, blasting music that seemed to reverberate within the confines of her skull. Despite the noise, a deep silence enveloped her as she took periodic drags from the cigarette held loosely between her fingers.
With a heavy sigh, she stood, her movements slow and deliberate, and grabbed her bag from the floor. She tossed the dying cigarette onto the tiles and crushed it under her boot with a forceful stamp, then strode out of the stall.
"Oh, shit," she mumbled, bumping into a figure just outside the stall. Looking up, she let out a breath of relief and slid the headphones off her ears. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. She noted how Max's hands trembled slightly, and how she bit her lip so hard it drew blood. April had known Max for two years, but she'd never seen her friend this distant, so utterly detached.
Max looked up from her vacant stare into the void. "Yeah, it's fine," she mumbled before turning around and heading for the mirrors over the sinks.
April sighed but left the bathroom too, lifting her headphones back to their respective place atop her head, slowly drifting back to her almost calm state—almost as if she wasn't really there, zoning out as she wandered around the school. If she was honest with herself, she preferred the solitude; it was simpler, less demanding.
As she walked around the outskirts of the school, she spotted a blonde cheerleader crossing the running tracks over to the fields. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise; she had gone down that route way too many times to score cigarettes from Eddie. "Imagine that, Chrissy," she mumbled to herself.
She walked over to her spot right off the forest next to one of the trees facing the school. It was peaceful out here; she could be herself without having to maintain a facade for everyone else. But honestly, she was struggling. She wanted more than anything to move on, but the memories of Billy's murder and the chaos that followed haunted her. The fear she felt that day made her shudder; she never wanted to experience that again.
She wanted a normal high school life, but she had become adept at appearing normal, at masking her feelings—better than Max could, anyway. But she just wanted to be fine, like Mike and Dustin seemed to be; they appeared so free, as if nothing had happened.
She bit her lip, her hands clutching her leg painfully as they started to shake. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Shit," she muttered, quickly opening her bag and grasping at the bottle of Xanax shoved hastily at the bottom. Her hands shook as she popped the lid and shoved one of the pills into her mouth, then shoved the bottle back into her bag.
Leaning against the back of the tree, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and the lighter that Max had given her last year. Lighting one, she took a long drag, exhaling softly. She lay her head against the tree trunk, her eyes closed as the cigarette slowly burned out between her fingers. Before taking another drag, she felt an eerie calm wash over her—until a quiet, muffled scream pierced the air.
Dropping her cigarette and cursing under her breath, she took off her headphones and looked behind her. There sat Chrissy, the cheerleader—the girl April had only talked to a couple of times because of there mutual friends —her eyes wide with fear.
"Hey, are you okay?" April asked, her eyes filling with concern.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, I just thought I..." Chrissy trailed off, panic lacing her voice.
April collapsed back to her position on the ground before lighting another cigarette and offering it to the blonde girl. "Do you want? It'll help with the nerves," she asked, looking up at Chrissy.
