Coping With Clarity

Chapter Twenty One

A.N: I suggest listening to Photograph by Ed Sheeran as you're reading this.

“Taylor, I can’t do this.”

The robes aren’t as weightless as they’d once been, it reminds Selena of a dress once picked and never worn.

She knows for a fact that the navy blue is exactly the same on hers, as it is on every other student slowly settling into their assigned seats. This fact doesn’t stop Selena feeling like her shade is darker, her body weaker and intent falser than everyone elses’.

The lights in the hall shine dynamically on the shimmering blue graduation robes. Selena looks out, from her place off stage, at the sight - she feels like she’s drowning.

Little utterances escape her mouth but Taylor doesn’t seem to hear. She’s clutching Selena’s yearbook in her hands with a written speech tucked between a spread of chosen pages, Selena is grateful the girl hasn’t heard her, seen as they almost didn’t get there in time.

The tips of Selena’s hair are still damp and frizzier then Taylor had wanted. No amount of makeup could fully conceal the dark pools under her eyes, that Selena had, at first mistaken for Joey’s eyes. And as long as no one got close enough they wouldn’t have to worry about people enquiring as to why Selena’s eyes were so bloodshot.

But at the same time Selena thinks everyone already knows.

Her absense from school wouldn’t have been so suspicious if she hadn’t been valedictorian. If half the school who still watched her with curiousity and wonder because of how, in such a short time, she had made a name for herself - a story to be told- in the school. Thanks to Nick Jonas or not.

Paranoia tingles in her fingers to her neck because she can’t be the only person to know, as much as she hopes she is, she’s scared that in her death Demi escaped her world before Selena had a chance to go with her.

Depression swirls like a mist in her eyes. Her arms feel chained to her sides like forearms holding her down. Too close. Selena hates how self-concious she feels. Two days was never enough to closedown and cover everything to trick the world into thinking she was going to be fine. Because her vulnerable reality shows everyone, now waiting for the ceremony to start, that she’s not.

Silence, other than murmurs in rows and scuffing new shoes, falls on the hall. A sound unaccustomed to the area, usually so vivid and wild with shouts and sports. Selena knows the feeling.

Her attention for whatever Principal Archuleta announces disappears soon after he makes it through his quiet welcome. Though she’s thankful for his introduction as it delays her wal to the spotlight poduim.

Selena’s hands shake.

“I really don’t think I can do this.” Selena’s eyes find Taylor’s shoulder, she’s still unable to steel herself for eye contact. Too scared to stare into those sharp blue irisis and see how much of herself was already lost.

“Darlin’ you can.” Taylor keeps looking between Selena and the crowd. Her seat is reserved and Selena wants to feel bad for drawing Taylor away but she can’t.

Selena’s eyes are numb as they water, despite the deep breathless she takes. A small joy comes from not having to wear mascara due to her current complexsion. She should be acting like one of the hundreds of other girls in the crowd- distruaght over their looks and annoyed at having to wear the unflattering robes. Then again Selena isn’t acting lik that because she’s never had to; and no one is acting like her because Selena is probably the only one present who feels like they’re going to faint.