Deja Vu [DRAFT ONE: UPDATED DRAFT ABOVE]

22: Adam

I miss my claymore, I think to the empty cafeteria.

I love coming in early. The faster I can walk out of the house, the better... although I actually had some kind of rationale behind it today. Serena catches me before I can catch Evan, even though I came to school half an hour early. In fact, this is possibly the worst strategy, but I could care less. I'm too desperate to see him to think straight, which is pathetic but not pathetic enough to stop me. People are staring at me, their eyes uncomfortable on my back, and I want to hit someone with the business end of a sword, but that's a whole other can of worms. By worms, I mean festering issues with my psyche, but hey, neither are pleasant.

Serena sits down at my table instead with her tall coffee cup. It's black, instead of a frappucino- she means business today. "Ser," I say, respectfully.

"You might not find him today," she says, twitching at the old nickname. "We don't even know if he'll show up. We can't get any word from Anthem, can we?"

"Don't care," I respond. "Hey, have you noticed that everyone in school's staring at me, or is that my rampant paranoia kicking in?"

"There are a lot of rumors about you." Serena says. "Most of them, I know about, of course, like the one those bitches from the Naval Brigade started perpetuating about you and Evan making out...."

"Nah, that's true. We made out in the hallway. Tongue to tongue." I say.

"Oh?" She stirs her coffee. If we hadn't faced hell together a dozen times over, I can not imagine how pretentious I would find her.

"I'm screwing with you," I explain. "We cuddled a bit, but this was way before... it was a while ago." My knuckles are white against the desk.

"Right. See, there's also this rumor that someone saw you in a stoner den? By that, I mean there's footage of you in the stoner den on Dunahan street. Someone commented on how white you were, someone else commented that bad behavior is universal, there's a massive flame war... lots of stupid jokes about it. You're lucky your parents haven't gotten involved in it."

"That's... a long story. Remember the intel I got? That's where I found Evan." I fold my hands. "With any luck, my parents won't find out. I wouldn't worry about it."

Serena frowns, lipstick-brushed lips pursed ever so slightly. "My parents were worried sick about me, especially after that third quarter B. Turns out you need sleep in order to function, or something. Then they took me in to get tested for drugs after that power withdrawal..."

"My parents are kind of hands off." I say.

"Seems that way." Serena mumbles. "Maybe a bit too lenient. Still, I've got your back, Adam. And Harper's, too, even now that this is over. We've gotta take care of her. No matter what."

I roll my eyes. "Harper can handle herself fine. She was arguably better pulled together than any of us. Guess who didn't have a mental breakdown or threaten to quit once, all while pulling double her weight in ass hauled?"

"Then maybe she can take care of us. Sound better?" Serena says, looking off to the side. She flicks the straw again. Her fingers clench around a stone that isn't there. "I hate myself for saying this..."

"We really do have a lot in common, don't we, Ser?"
She casts me the blankest, most degrading stare you can imagine. With a wistful sigh, she continues, "I'm going to miss it."

"I thought I would," I lie, "But honestly? I feel pretty empty, right now. It'll kick in eventually."

Her lips twitch. The bell rings.

I get up and practice my daily grieving as I stalk to first period, made easier by my lowered standards- physical symptoms are no longer a requirement. Still, I like to tug up the old well of feeling, to ensure the guilt is still broiling beneath the surface. It's the only way to convince me this wasn't all a dream, that I'm still capable of feeling anything, and that the most opportune timeline is remembered by the singular travesty instead of the eight kids who got out, because someone has to take care of Megan.