The Trouble with Love

❝ always confusing the thoughts in my head ❞

(unedited)

Blurring and stirring,
The truth and the lies,
So I don't know what's real and what's not.
Always confusing the thoughts in my head,
So I can't trust myself anymore.

"Going Under" -Evanescence

By Wednesday, everyone knew what happened.

I wasn't sure how, but I guess gossip had a way of spreading around Blaire Academy and Hampton Hills.

"I feel bad for Skylar," Vanessa remarked as she waited for me to grab my things for English.

"I feel bad for Cameron and Daniel." I yanked my English binder out from under a pile of papers, then stood and shut my locker.

"You don't think he actually did it?" she asked as we headed to English.

I glanced at her. "Why would be?" I paused. Technically, I didn't know Daniel very well. "I mean, did they even know each other?"

She shrugged. "Maybe they had a secret affair and he was obsessed with her, so he kidnapped her then killed her when she left him," she said, with a dramatic air. Then she froze. "I forgot my essay in my locker!"

"We have a sub today, don't worry," I told her.

"But we still have to hand it in."

I glanced into the English room. Sure enough, the teacher filming in for Cameron Sullivan was collecting the essays that had been assigned two weeks ago.

Vanessa tugged on my arm. "Can you come get it with me?"

I glanced at the teacher. "Yeah, sure."

"You know," she said as she led me to her locker. "Skylar might be dating him, but he doesn't go easy on any of us."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is he supposed to?"

She shrugged. "If I dated a teacher, I'd ask for better marks." She stopped at her locker. "Maybe Physics, I'm failing."

"So you'd date your Physics teacher?" I asked, leaning against the wall next to her as she entered her combination. By now the halls were pretty empty since it was ten minutes after the bell rang. We were gonna be pretty late.

She shrugged again. "If it meant better marks." She opened her locker and stretched up, reaching for the top shelf with her right arm.

"Isn't he fifty years older th-" I cut myself off when Vanessa jerked.

She cried out in pain and yanked her arm out, but red was already running down her skin and pooling on the ground.

Oh my god.

There was a long gash from her wrist to her elbow, deep enough that she would probably need stitches. Scratch that. From the amount of blood, she would definitely need stitches.

"We need to get you to the hospital."

Vanessa whimpered, clutching her arm. "No, it's fine, it's just a little bit of blood..." And then, after glancing at the wound, she fainted.

Shit.

I barely managed to grab her before her head smacked against the floor. As I lowered her to the ground, I looked around, trying to figure out what I could do.

I have to stop the bleeding first.

There was a pale pink scarf in Vanessa's locker, so I pulled that down and wrapped it around her arm, making it a little tighter around the top. I didn't have first aid training, so I didn't know if this kind of wound required a tourniquet or something, but I didn't want to do it wrong. It would probably cause even more problems, like her needing a new arm, instead of a deep cut.