The next morning, I was still in bed ten minutes before I was supposed to leave for school, and my dad opened my door.
"Get up," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
I groaned, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. "I'm not feeling well," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
My dad's eyes narrowed. "You're not staying home from school," he said sternly. "You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it."
I felt a sense of frustration and anger rising up in me. "Daddy, please," I begged, feeling completely overwhelmed and lost.
He shook his head, clearly not interested in hearing my excuses. "No, Jackie," he said firmly. "You're going to school, and that's final."
I nodded, feeling defeated and hopeless. "Okay," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
My dad left the room, and I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of sadness and exhaustion wash over me. I knew that going to school was going to be difficult, especially with the weight of my situation hanging over me.
As I got dressed and made my way downstairs, my mom looked at me with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a comforting hand on my arm.
I shook my head, feeling a sense of vulnerability and fear wash over me. "No, I'm not," I said softly.
She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Just take things one day at a time, sweetie," she said, her voice full of compassion. "We'll get through this together."
I nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me. "Thanks, Mom," I said softly.
As I walked out of the house and made my way to school, I couldn't help but feel like everyone was staring at me, like they all knew my secret. The weight of it all was suffocating, and I knew that I was in for a difficult day.
When I arrived at school, I tried to keep my head down and avoid attention, but it was difficult. My friends noticed that I was acting differently, and they kept asking me if everything was okay.
I couldn't bring myself to tell them the truth, so I just shrugged and said that I was going through some things. They looked at me with concern, but they didn't push the issue.
As the day went on, I felt more and more isolated and alone. The fear and uncertainty of my situation were overwhelming, and I couldn't help but feel like my life was spiraling out of control.
... And it wasn't just me. The guys made comments to Prince about how he looked pensive, or like his head was in the clouds.
"What's with you, bro? You haven't said a word to us since we got here," Terry said, peering over at Prince in homeroom.
Prince shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Terry. "Just thinking," he muttered.
Terry and the others exchanged knowing looks, but didn't press further.
...
The day dragged on, and I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt and shame that hung over me like a cloud. I couldn't focus on my classes, and my mind kept wandering back to my situation.
When the lunch bell rang, I made my way to my locker to grab my things. As I turned around, I saw Prince leaning against the lockers, looking at me with concern.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I thought about how much I had hurt him.
"Hey," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. Prince stepped closer to me, reaching out to put a comforting hand on my arm.
