chapter eleven

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How? How does she know? Who else knows? How could this happen to me? Why? I don't dare to look at Sander in the eye when he asks me what's going on. I don't dare unclench my fists because if I do, havoc will break loose. The lump in my throat is now a full-on mountain, and I can't for the life of me calm down. Blood pours into my ears with every thud knocking violently against my chest. I suck in all of the oxygen left inside this tiny room. But I still feel suffocated. I still feel empty. A rising thirst traverses through my body, but there is no water to be found. Just breathe. Just breathe, I tell myself. Too dizzy. I can't. 

I grip the table while a cold knot rips between my ribs. This is too much. I'm grappling onto my dear life right now, yet my strength is slipping away. With every passing second, my vision grows darker and narrower and my eyes turn into a kaleidoscopic. Stars spin from the ceiling. The way they split and regroup is hypnotizing. Sander's pleading voice becomes faint, and then muted, until all I can hear is my heartbeat flip-flopping inside my stomach. And then, I slowly find myself sinking to the floor. And I shut down.

I don't know how much time passed before I'm able to get up and steady myself—it could have been 30 seconds or an hour. Or ten. All I know is that Sander is with me. He stayed by me this whole time. Damn. Before he miraculously integrated himself into my life, I never would have believed that someone would care for me this much. As a kid, I was left alone most of the time. Independence, was what my parents called it, but I think they never planned on having a second child. One was enough. I got stuck with the leftovers. 

But Sander is something else. No words can describe how grateful I am for him. When I look up, he runs his fingers along the roots of my hair while I regain awareness of the world. His hand is firm but demanding, massaging my scalp with a certain intensity to it that makes everything feel almost okay. 

"Are you feeling better?" he whispers in a hushed tone.
    "Mhmm, thank you," I nod with precaution, making sure my head doesn't start spinning in circles again.

"I'm glad." His face shifts a little before pronouncing his next few words, as if he's deliberating whether to carry them out or keep them inside. "May I ask what happened?"

"Um..." I freeze, unable to reveal the truth. The words aren't there anymore; it's all a mess of letters glued inside my brain. Thinking stops working, too.

"You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable," he quickly adds, but I shake my head.

"No, no it's not that. It's just that Aurora found out," my voice dwindles into a faint murmur, like saying it quieter would somehow ease this predicament I've landed myself in.

"Found out what?"

"That I like boys."

"Oh." The smile that was once on his face slips away, leaving nothing but a pair of expressionless pupils. It's like all the emotions have been sucked out of him. I didn't know how he would take it, but so far, he doesn't seem angry. Sad, maybe. No, that's not right either. Sorrow is a better word to describe him. Distressed. Unable to process this information.

"How?" his voice comes out slightly more high-pitched than he expected, causing his brows to furrow upwards.

"I have no idea. We were so careful."

"Are you sure she meant to send that to you? Maybe it was intended for someone else. Or perhaps it was like a dare or joke on her part," Sander scrunches his nose searching for excuses, though I'm not sure if he's trying to convince himself or me. Either way, all these possible scenarios seem incredibly improbable. 

"I guess the only way to find out is to ask her," I conclude, although I'm highly dreading that conversation.

"I guess so. I think I need some time to myself just to reflect upon all of this. Is it alright if we meet in the locker room tomorrow? he asks.

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