heartstrings

Chapter 54

Nicholas
March 26th 2018

Returning to school today feels like walking into a nightmare I can't wake up from.

Everything is familiar—the smell of old textbooks and cheap cafeteria food, the chatter of students filling the halls, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum floors—but there's this undercurrent of tension that wasn't there before.

It's been a bit more than two weeks since my attempt, and this is my first day back. I thought I'd be ready, but now that I'm here, I feel exposed, like I'm under a microscope and everyone's watching to see if I'll break again.

I make my way to English class, trying to keep my head down, not making eye contact with anyone. The last thing I want is to see that look of pity on their faces.

When I get to class, I slip into my usual seat in the back corner and pull out my notebook, pretending to be interested in whatever Mrs. Stevens is going on about.

Twenty minutes into the lesson, there's a knock on the door. Mrs. Stevens looks up, her eyes meeting mine for a second, and I already know what's coming. She opens the door and speaks quietly to whoever's outside, then turns back to the class.

"Nic, the principal would like to see you," she says softly. Her voice is kind, too kind, like she's afraid I might shatter at any moment.

I nod, trying to keep my expression neutral, and shove my notebook back into my bag.

The walk to the principal's office feels longer than usual as I follow the secretary. I pass the lockers, the bulletin boards filled with flyers for upcoming events, the trophy case that showcases the school's athletic achievements. All these things that once felt so important now seem trivial, distant.

When I reach the office, the secretary gives me a gentle smile. "You can go right in, Nic," she says, her voice soft. Everyone's voice is soft now, like they're all afraid to speak too loudly around me.

I push open the door to Mr. Harris's office. He's sitting behind his desk, looking up as I enter. "Nic, come in," he says, gesturing to the chair in front of him. "Have a seat."

I sit down, keeping my bag on my lap, my fingers drumming absently against it.

Mr. Harris leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "I just wanted to check in with you, see how you're doing."

"I'm fine," I say quickly, maybe too quickly.

He nods slowly, like he doesn't quite believe me but doesn't want to push it.

"I want you to know that we're all here for you, Nic. If you ever need to talk, my door is always open. We've got counselors available, too, if that would be helpful."

I nod, not really listening. He's saying all the right things, but none of it matters.

He sighs, glancing at a folder on his desk. "I also wanted to talk to you about your grades. I know this isn't a priority right now, but I just want to make sure you're aware of where you stand. You've fallen behind in a few classes."

I shrug. "Yeah, I figured."

"We don't need to worry about that right now," he says quickly. "Your well-being is the most important thing. We can always find ways to catch up later."

I nod again, giving another non-committal, "Yeah."

He keeps talking, but I'm not really listening. I just want to get out of here, away from his concerned eyes and his gentle tone. I don't need his pity or his reassurances. I just need this conversation to be over.