Help Me Feel

Help Me Feel - And More Pressures

A/N: I am SO sorry for the long wait! I got really unmotivated for a while and then I wanted to finish another story I was writing. I finished that yesterday so now it's my new goal to finish this. Think I can do it before June 3rd? Let's find out! I'd also like to apologize in advance for the possible bad quality of this chapter. I haven't written it in a while and I need to get back into her mindset. Sorry!

Also the dedication is for VickiMinaj111 for making the banner on the side! 

Chapter 4 – And More Pressures.

I should have known Brandon would want me to sit with him at lunch. We'd been friends for a week now, and each time he asked I'd made some excuse to get out of having to sit in the cafeteria. That day was different, he wasn't giving up so easily.

“Please?” He begged, as though it was the biggest deal in the world.

“Why?” I asked. I couldn't understand his desire for me to be there. It was just a meal, what could possibly be so great about it?

We were sat in English class, and it was clear I wasn't going to get any notes taken until Brandon got his way.

“Because you're my best friend and I want to sit with you,” he insisted.

I sighed. “Fine, whatever. Meet you at my locker.”

Even though I hadn't asked a question, he nodded, a smile on his face. “Yes! Finally!”

I rolled my eyes, something I'd started doing a lot around him in the past week. He was such an idiot, but I couldn't find it in me anymore to not like him.

Brandon, thankfully, was quiet the rest of the period, and after English I spent the next couple of hours trying to figure out how I could get out of this. I could only just handle being around him all the time. I couldn't handle the cafeteria. Not yet. Besides, lunch was my time, for me.

At least, it was supposed to be. Now I was going to have to interact with reality. If it was anyone but Brandon...

By the end of my last class before lunch, I was painfully aware that there was no way out. I was trapped. I also knew that if I tried saying I had to go to the bathroom, Brandon would know I was lying.

When the bell rang, I took my time walking to my locker, attempting to postpone this as long as possible.

Since I was at my locker anyway, I decided to unload some of my books. There was no point in carrying them around if I didn't have to.

“Hey!” Brandon's voice greeted me, and when I shut my locker door, his face became visible.

“Hi,” I said. I really hoped he heard the lack of enthusiasm in my voice and let me out of this torture.

“I know you don't want to do this, so thank you for not bailing,” Brandon told me, guiding me to the cafeteria as though he thought I'd start running if he didn't have some sort of hold on me.

I would, but that was beside the point.

So I shrugged, wincing a little as the cut I'd made on my upper arm last night scraped my shirt. Brandon didn't notice, for which I was thankful. I hated having to think of last minute lies, though I had a few just in case.

“Come on, I sit over here.” He began pulling me to a table where the girl from our English class, Anna, sat. I was surprised to see she was alone. She always seemed to have someone with her.

“Hey, Anna. This is Andrea. I wanted to actually introduce you two,” Brandon said when we reached the table.

I nodded in her direction, already sensing that this little thing was going to be a disaster. Especially since Anna used to be one of the people that bullied me, until I stopped caring. We hadn't been this close to each other in six years.

“Yeah, I know her,” Anna said, her voice taking on that fake tone I'd heard people use when they didn't like something but were trying to be polite. “So, Brandon,” Anna turned her full attention on him, keeping his focus.

I considered sneaking off while he sat down, but I knew he'd notice and either pin me down or just keep dragging me back here until I managed to sit with him for an entire lunch.

So I took my own seat and let myself zone out, choosing instead to play with a plastic fork I found on the table.

I spun it around, wondering if it was sharp enough to cut. If I accidentally spun it wrong, and it just happened to scratch me, there wouldn't be any questions, right? It would all be an accident, and I could still get a release. It would be an accident, something I had no control over.

Already I could imagine the cut, imagine the way the blood would form a little droplet...

“Andrea?” Brandon tapped my arm, making me jump. I blinked a couple of times to regain my focus, and found my knuckles had turned white from how hard I was gripping the little fork.

“Yeah?” I dropped the utensil, hating the almost knowing smirk I caught on Anna's face.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Before I could fake a small smile and tell him I was fine, Anna spoke. “She's probably just thinking about mommy dearest.”

My teeth clenched together. I knew she had just been waiting for an opportunity to bring her up. “Don't talk about what you don't know,” I warned, my hand curling into a fist. Maybe getting angry this fast made no sense, but I just hated how she was looking at me like she knew everything, or even more than I did.

“Worried you'll end up like her if we talk about it?” Anna taunted.

That was it. It had taken two well-timed sentences, and I wanted to snap. I hadn't defended myself against her, or anyone else, in years, but that question crossed a line.

I stood up quickly, leaning over the table to get close to her.

“Don't ever say that again. I am nothing like my mother. You don't know anything.” My voice was quiet, but I knew she heard it. All I could hear was my father's voice echoing in my head saying the exact same thing. I couldn't handle it at school as well. Not from her.

I grabbed my bag and walked out. I had to get away from her before I did something stupid.

Right now, all I needed was my knife and a bathroom stall. However, before I could get there, the bell rang, and I knew I wouldn't be able to give release to the overload of tension inside me until after school.

Brandon was going to ask a lot of questions during Art, and I was not looking forward to answering them.

I was right. The first thing Brandon said to me when he walked into the classroom was, “Are you going to explain what happened at lunch?”

“One day. What did Anna tell you?” I asked. I had to make sure he didn't know about my mother. I'd tell him myself eventually, but not right now. It wasn't the right time.

“She told me to ask you.”

I nodded. “One day,” I promised him, reaching into my bag for the bottle of water I made sure to keep handy. I was definitely hurting my throat today, even though it was slowly building itself back up.

“I'm holding you to that.” Brandon looked more serious than I'd seen him in the past couple of weeks, and I realized he was probably mad at me.

Instantly, I was mad too. He had no right to get mad at me. None at all. I hadn't even wanted to go.

I didn't say anything though. I wasn't sure if my voice could handle it.

Instead, I put all of my effort into drawing today's simple assignment; sketch something to show light and darkness. I showed a girl's face, one half covered in shadow while the other lived in the light.

It wasn't good, not at all, but when Brandon stopped me before I could turn it in and said, “I like it, it looks good,” I believed him.

Was this what friendship was? Being able to tolerate the other person, even when they made you mad?

“Thanks,” I said back, because that's what being a friend seemed like to me. We'd talk one day, and he'd know everything. But right now, I was going to try and make the most of being Brandon Heming's friend.