_25_QUIET

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"Lucy, hon?" I squint my eyes at the mention of my name and see Patrick above me. "There's the sleepyhead." He smiles though I just roll over. "Come on, we're going out for dinner." I sigh and stretch my arms above me, looking up at him for a half-second.  "There you go. Dinner's in half an hour." He pats my arm and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

I sigh and sit up in my bed, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. That's one of the reasons I never liked naps as a kid, I was never fully awake for a couple hours afterwards. I pick up my phone off the nightstand where Patrick must've left it for me.

I squint at the brightness of my lock screen, it's currently a picture of Echo and me sticking our toungues out, but I do have a habit of changing it nearly every week. I type in my pass code look through my notifications, clearing away most of them as I go. There's a ridiculous amount of Instagram notifications that make me scrunch my nose in confusion before I click on them to see that Pete must've tagged me in the photo he posted.

I tap at the picture to like it, staring intently as I try not to think too hard about Pete's second thoughts about me. I sigh heavily and go to the text Echo sent me while I was asleep.

From: Echo
6:45 pm
What's up

I rub at my eyes and text him a reply quickly.

To: Echo
7:06 pm
Bout to head to dinner Skype when I get back?

I set my phone face down on my bed and stare at my dresser with dread. The thought of putting on clothes seems incredibly difficult at this moment. I get up and do it anyway, all for the sake of making Pete and Patrick happy.

Twenty minutes later I look a tiny bit more presentable in a pair of jeans and slightly sheer T-shirt with a too big grey cradigan. I slip on my shoes before grabbing my phone and heading out to meet Pete and Patrick in the kitchen.

"Ready to go?" Patrick asks. I only nod, not really feeling up to talking after my nap and the anxiety of hearing what Pete thinks of me.

The whole ride to the restaurant I look at my phone, seeing that Echo texted me back. I scroll through our old messages, as boring as it is. I just want to keep myself out of the conversation happening in the front seat.

When we get to the restaurant I remain quiet. I stay that way all throughout the night, not really feeling up to conversation, not only from the anxiety that I've been feeling, but also the overwhelming drained feeling that has taken root in my chest.

I could tell Patrick sensed something was wrong with me, though he didn't say anything. I was thankful for the freedom, I didn't really know how to voice to Patrick that I had heard them talking when I was supposedly asleep. Instead I just answered questions with as few words as possible and jabbed at the ice in my Coke.

I didn't eat much, which Pete got on my ass for. He kept bringing up the fact that I didn't eat lunch and that I needed to eat. I wasn't really hungry, I felt a little nauseous, but I didn't say anything. I settled for putting the rest of my food in a foam box and promising to eat it if I got hungry later, though I doubted I would.

I texted Echo as soon as we got in the car to leave. Something along the lines of, Please help me, I think Pete has turned into a hover-mother I need to see you when I get home, I didn't know it was possible to miss someone from purely just being with people who don't understand you...

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