I'll Show You Pretty

16. A Sad Chapter

I apologize in advance guys, it'll get better I promise. (No trigger warnings, there isn't anything blatantly awful going on in this chapter).

It was really bad that we were taking a test right now. Not only did I have bad test anxiety, but I had bad anxiety in general, especially with the recent situation going on. So now my anxiety was practically tripled.

Fantastic.

I was interested in psychology too, so it's not like this test should've been hard, but fuck, none of the answers were coming to my mind right now. What was that one illness we talked about a few weeks ago? Far Goalie delusion? I couldn't fucking remember.

And now my wooden pencil looked liked it had been torn up by a beaver. Curse my pencil-biting habits.

You know what? I'm going to do this. I don't even care anymore. Thanks to standardized tests, I have a 25% chance of getting these questions right no matter what. A little eliminations here and there and I'd be decent? Maybe?

I mean, it's not like they care about whether you actually learn anything or not. They just care about your test grade.

I braced myself and answered the next twenty five questions and hoped for the best.

~~~

Was it just me or was it hot in that classroom? Maybe it's because I'm wearing a fuzzy pink sweater... no that can't be it. The classrooms are always freezing cold.

Maybe today wasn't the day to wear black nail polish. Most of it was chipped away now that I had been biting my nails for so long.

Ah of course, anxiety.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could swear that I saw Frank shooting me a few concerned glances. I wanted so badly to stay after class and cry about everything so he could make me feel better, but I knew I couldn't do that. Not with the risk of our secret getting out.

I took a deep breath and continued messing with my pencil. There were only a few minutes left of class, and I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do for the rest of the day. I had a gigantic weight on my chest.

Suddenly I saw something on the corner of my desk. I looked over.

Pete was sliding a small piece of paper on my desk, a note probably. He gave me a small smile and I brought the paper closer to me. I unfolded it to read what it said.

You okay? You look anxious.

I quickly positioned my pencil in my hand so that I could actually write with it, and I began my quick response. Can we talk about this at lunch please?

I gave the note back and a few seconds later, it landed right back on my desk with a new message.

Of course. I assume you don't want Mikey there?

I smiled. Sometimes it seemed like Pete was reading my mind. I didn't know how, but it was very helpful in this situation.

If you don't mind I would like it to just be us.

I don't mind. I can arrange something so that Mikey isn't there.

I folded the note and put it in my pocket. I looked over to him and nodded in appreciation. He did a playful salute back and we were back to waiting for the class to end.

Jesus was the bell delayed or something? It seemed like class should have definitely been getting out at this point. In fact, it was almost like the bell was delayed for minor plot conveniences in a story of some sort.