don't speak.

chapter thirteen

           

If someone asked me what was wrong – and I decided to tell them – I wouldn't mention the failure I'd become, or what's haunting about that night. I would tell them about the episodes. Because the episodes are the worst.

And this was the worst of them.

I was no longer in possession of myself. I could only feel the intense tingling that rapidly spread across my face, as though a million needles were having a go at my skin. My chest clenched and I could tell that I was gulping in heavy, fast breaths – but no matter how much oxygen I consumed there never seemed to be enough air to fill my chest. The parts of me that hadn't been completely riddled with pain were numb and immovable. My arms lay limp in front of me – not moving to wipe the tears that were streaming down my cheeks like the tap, no matter how much I willed them to. I couldn't bring myself up to my feet. I couldn't move. I could feel my lips beginning to draw into my mouth but I couldn't bring them back out to their normal resting position, I saw my hands on my knees but I couldn't lift of finger. I'd let the episode completely take over me. I had finally given up. I was taken prisoner in my own body.

And it all happened in gym class.

The day had begun normal. Well. Whatever you can identify as normal for me anymore. Okay fine. It wasn't normal. But it wasn't... odd.

I'd woken up as a slightly sticky lump, curled up next to my bedroom door on the floor. After I'd peeled myself off I cleaned up in the shower, and it was the best feeling to finally be rid of that grungy feeling. I chucked the clothes from the night before into the hamper and opted for a newly-cropped sweater and a pair of mid-rise jean shorts that had roses embroidered on the pockets so that a little mid-drift was showing and sheer red tights. I tied my hair up into a ponytail and applied the red liquid lipstick I'd bought with my birthday money in seventh grade – I was going for a more Paige-from-Charmed look but ended up with what my mom called hooker lips. Perfect. It's the outfit I wore yesterday – dialed back at least six clicks. After slipping into my favourite pair of combat boots I retrieved the blade from my shorts and hid it on top of my mirror, slipping out the window to avoid any questions my mom might have had in regards to my appearance.

I was about to walk past the turn to get to Riley's when the thought occurred to me that sluts can have friends too- even if they do treat them with kid gloves - so I took a sharp turn onto the high road and made my way over to her apartment.

"G'morning sunshine." I beamed as she slid open the bedroom window. Her mouth opened and closed with her tongue fumbling inside as though she were rooting around for the right words to say so I grabbed hold of her chin and smiled, "You can just say I look amazing sweetie." I tugged up the right side of my mouth in a lopsided smirk.

"Y-you look-" She uttered as I ducked out the window, Riley following closely in tow.

"Hey, are you alright?" She pressed the back of her hand onto my forehead as she switched between walking and lightly jogging to keep up with my strides.

"I'm fine." I took hold of her hand with my own and swung it by my side. My pace quickly accelerated until I was sprinting down the road, dragging a fumbling Riley behind me. I only slowed when we made it into the classroom, which was nearly full of our peers flinging paper airplanes and spitballs across the room.

As expected Farkle, Lucas and Zay sat with their mouths agape and their eyes practically forming little cartoon hearts. They were predictable. And I appreciated that. As I went to walk over to Lucas I felt someone's uninvited hand extend out and slap my bottom. I spun around and grabbed hold of their shirt, pulling them so close to my face that our noses overlapped.

"And what do you think you're doing, big boy?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice low and even. They just cocked their head to the side and smirked.

"I was just checking. He was right."

I immediately let go of their shirt and pushed them away from me, only now noticing how bright the lights were in the room. A familiar tightness began to grasp hold of my chest and I closed my eyes in attempt to fight it away.

"You alright?" I hear someone say from what sounds like miles away. Instead of responding I collected my stuff and left the classroom just as Mr. Matthews stepped into it.

"What's up with her?" I manage to hear him say as I slam the door behind me.

By the time I've reached the hallway I can't hear anything anymore. Anything except that voice saying 'he was right'. It was echoing and bouncing around my head like a vine you can't shut off.

People out there knew.

People in this school know what happened in that room – the truth. And even worse is they know more than me. Who is he? It feels like a moment has passed but the bell rings and the hallways fill with people scurrying to their next class. I don't remember dropping to the ground but a hand extends out to me, and I take it.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks, but his voice isn't harsh and judgmental like most people. I ignore the people whistling at me and shrug.

"I'm just being myself." I intentionally bump my shoulder into his and I feel a current run through me – but I'm not entirely sure it's a bad one.

"Come on Maya – I know this isn't you."

I stop walking and bite my lip, my eyes searching his face for something... but I'm not sure what. Finally I shrug, "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."

"What? Maya, you know that's not true-" He goes to follow me further but I put my hand on his chest, stopping him, and point to the sign. 'girl's locker room' I mouth as I press on inside.

As I'm slipping into the little yellow booty shorts and blue (and newly chopped) Abigail Adams Gym t-shirt I get a strange feeling in my stomach. I credit it to the adrenaline because I touched him. It wasn't just the physical act of touching Lucas that gave me a rush, it was the fact that I touched someone and didn't end up yelling or sprawled across the floor. I thought this thing was working – that by accepting the blame for what happened I was magically cured of all of my panics.

I pranced out to the large gym, feeling guilty for being excited. We were playing badminton which is usually my favourite thing to do in phy-ed, but given the circumstances I wasn't giving it my all over the past week. But today was different. Today I walked with Riley and stood up to someone. Maybe I had a little episode but I thought nothing of it. If it didn't hurt, it couldn't hurt – right?

I was geared up and ready to start a match by the supplies when Finch – a senior and star of the varsity lacrosse team – came up behind me.