Two lives.

19. Under the Surface

May 19th
7:15 AM

The agitating buzz of my alarm jolted me awake. Groaning, I slapped at my phone on the nightstand, managing to hit snooze. "Shut up," I mumbled, rolling over and pulling the blanket over my head. For a few minutes, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, lost in the maze of every questionable decision I'd ever made. Eventually, I forced myself out of bed, dragging my feet toward the dresser.

Clothes were never something I stressed over. I grabbed a pair of baggy pants and a slightly oversized sweatshirt from the pile and threw them on. Done. Good enough.

When it was time to head to first period, I left my room, trudging down the hall half-awake. Somehow, I got to class before Ophelia and Andi—a rare and mildly concerning event. Ophelia was practically the poster child for punctuality, and Andi, while perpetually late, at least showed up with me.

Sliding into my usual spot in the back corner, I dropped my bag on the floor and scanned the doorway, waiting for their familiar faces. The minutes ticked by, and just as the bell blared, signaling the start of class, they were still nowhere to be seen.

"Are they skipping and just forgot to tell me?" I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my chair to peer toward the hallway.

Ophelia skipping? Not likely. She wasn't exactly a saint, but falling behind on work was basically her worst nightmare. Andi, on the other hand? She practically treated attendance like a suggestion. Still, something felt off.

Mr. Fletcher, our health teacher, began his usual slow pace around the room, passing out worksheets. Without Ophelia to guide me or Andi to distract me, I was left staring blankly at the page. It might as well have been in a foreign language.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open. All heads turned to see Ophelia stride in, her face a storm of frustration. Andi followed close behind, looking as bored as ever, like she hadn't just strolled into class late.

They made their way to Mr. Fletcher's desk, their steps echoing slightly in the otherwise quiet room. Ophelia handed over the tardy slips with a tight, forced smile, while Andi slouched lazily beside her, looking completely unbothered. Mr. Fletcher barely glanced at them as he handed them the worksheets, too preoccupied with his clipboard to make any comments about their late arrival.

As they turned and headed toward our corner, I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. "Where were you guys?" I asked the moment they slid into their seats.

Ophelia let out a dramatic sigh, collapsing into her chair as if the weight of the world had been on her shoulders. She pressed her hands together, her fingers steepled like she was praying for patience, then rubbed her forehead. "Don't even get me started," she muttered, her voice laced with frustration.

I turned my attention to Andi, raising a questioning eyebrow. If anyone was going to give me the unfiltered version of the story, it was her. She shrugged with exaggerated indifference, but before I could press her, she blurted out, loud enough for half the class to hear, "Summer was being a complete cunt."

A few heads swiveled toward us, and the faint hum of whispered conversations briefly paused before resuming. My eyes widened, and I immediately buried my face in my hands, groaning. "Oh, my god. Andi," I hissed, peeking through my fingers. "You can't just say that out loud."

"What?" Andi shot back, her expression a mix of defiance and amusement. "It's not like I'm wrong."

I glanced nervously at Mr. Fletcher, who—thankfully—was still absorbed in his papers at his desk, blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing in our corner. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "Do you have any sense of volume control?"