Eleven Floors | Cassie Lethbridge

Fuel

Simon had asked me to pick him up before school started, his car was in the shop and he lived too far from the school to walk. There wasn't even a bus route from his house. I agreed, knowing he would most likely be pissed off the whole day if he had to walk a good old forty minutes just to be late to math.

We arrived a few minutes before the bell. Stood at our lockers. His bag was sat on the floor, his head buried in his physics book. I stood, talking away to Mark. I was stuck on floor one in this moment. "Friend island." One of three discovered floors. I've always thought about getting a tattoo of just my floor names. They're part of me, but I only have three now. The second floor you may be wondering about. I've only mentioned the first. I like to call the second floor "happy," just something simple. For when I'm in a genuine good mood. I'm usually stuck in "Friend island" though. I'm usually with my friends. Whenever I am, I have less emotions. I switch between "happy" and "Friend island."

"You listening man?" Mark asked. His curly hair sat on top of his head. Freckles covered his face. I looked up.

"Sorry. I'm distracted." My head was still focused on last night. Everyone knew me and Viola had been together last night. They all were rooting for me. Even Finn. She knew about my little crush on Viola, and thankfully she hasn't told her anything. At least I don't think.

"About last night? What even happened ? You've been down all morning. I hate seeing you like this." Mark always asked me how I was doing. We asked each other often, we just were those type of people.

"I don't even want to remotely think about it more than I have been." I let out a loud sigh. I was so tired, my body felt heavy. I was leaned up against my locker, it's orange colour in the corner of my eye. Mark nodded.

"Well, I'm always a phone call away, man." Mark was what some people would call a stereotypical "stoner." Basically our whole friend group smoked, but Mark was something else. He couldn't go one single day without smoking. We never judged him, he never judged us. I nodded at him. Simon had left us, walking to his psychics test. He was paranoid about this test, it was all he could talk about on the way to school. Thank god, I decided to not take psychics. It's the only class he stresses about.

Viola was nowhere to be seen so far today. She hadn't messaged me during morning, and she still has yet to. I was worried. I'm always worried. My mind couldn't focus on anything during math, we were supposed to be starting a new unit too. It would have been easier to have stayed home.

Simon noticed my distance to everyone during lunch. We were all sat around the lunch table, passing around a bottle of rootbeer. The whole groups favourite drink.

"Dude, Viola just walked in." Mark shoved my shoulder. I glared at him, looking down at my salad. I could feel her walking towards us as I decided to ignore her completely. It was a shit choice to make, but I was upset. She liked Simon. I haven't told him yet... I should. But it would break me even more. The third floor was surfacing in my brain. "Fuel." Fuel is what you use to start up a car, fuel is what I use to start up an episode. What kind of episode? A depression episode. It felt as if a cloud flowed in, and was placed right above my head. My shoulders felt heavy. I grew weak, my fork dropping. My stomach growling. The air grew heavy as I took deep breaths. This helped keep me calm until my storm appeared. It sweeps in out of nowhere, takes over my whole body and mind. I distance myself from everyone. Viola sat down across from me. My heart sped up. I stared at my food.

"Hey."

I didn't look up. I couldn't face her. Simon tapped me. His face showing concern. I looked away. Grabbing my food, I stood up. Shoving my chair into the table, I walked away. Throwing my food away, I walked into the gym. There was still half an hour before I had class. Of course. Grabbing my earbuds out of my backpack, I plugged them into my phone. Indulging into a world of drums and guitar solos. Time ticked away slowly, I watched the clock as every second passed. I had science next, which was good for me. It was my best class. Shockingly my very little math knowledge pays off during science. The bell rang, causing me to jump off from the bleachers.

I walked out of the room, avoiding eye contact with everyone. I could see Simon's shoes pass by me. He yelled out to me. I went on. I feel so dramatic but I can't be around her right now. Even Simon. Especially, Simon. Nothing ever worked out for me.

Hours had gone by since school had ended. I helped mom make supper, tossing lettuce with croutons, cheese and dressing. She smiled gratefully as I helped out, I didn't often feel like she wanted me with her in the kitchen. It was only the salad I helped with though. She made the tacos on her own. I worked my way through finishing the salad, placing it onto the wooden table in the dinning room. Mom thanked me, placing a kiss on my head.

"We have a guest tonight. You'll love it, I promise." She softly spoke. She placed napkins all around the table. She set up a fourth place. Usually it was just dad, mom and I. My mind wondered around, sticking to "fuel." My mood hadn't changed, I just pretended it did to keep mom happy. I always acted fine around her. Even though, she was the one who always took me to my therapy sessions when I couldn't drive. Dad was hardly around. He came home from work, ate, kissed both of us and went to bed.

"Who is it?" I asked as I sat down in my spot. The fourth placing was right across from me. I grew anxious. What if it was someone who would take me away to a mental institution? Dad had always mentioned bringing me to one if I got any worse. How would he know how I feel if I don't even talk to him? Makes clearly so much sense to me. My phone had been blowing up all afternoon, and it wasn't stopping now. The group chat that all of us were in, was a mess. I was getting attacked with "is he okay?" and "what happened?" oh right, and my favourite; "we're all are here for you, just say one word. We love you." Which was of course, from Viola. She should know why I'm upset. Actually, no I don't think she would. My feelings for her are oblivious in her eyes. I sighed. The door bell went off, causing me to jump a bit. It was pure silence up until that point. My dad had come up from the basement, his baggy sweater, matching his eye bags. He veered toward the door, which wasn't visible from my seat. I kept my eyes on my phone, avoiding all my texts. I scrolled through Instagram.

"Ah! Viola, how lovely of you to join us. We have tacos." I heard my dad speak from the porch. W-what. My heart sunk. How? Why would they invite her? Of all people? Why not Mark? Even Finn?! I sat, shaking. My anxiety levels through the roof. Mom looked my way, her eyes wide, with a smile on her lips. The red lipstick creased, she sat down next to me.

Dad and Viola made their way inside the dinning room. I could feel myself mentally curl up into a ball. Fear overcoming my body. I felt so small, even though both Viola and my dad were shorter than me. Mom and I were the tallest out of all of us. Viola sent a smile to me. I looked away. Staring at the white glass plate sat in front of me. I felt waves crash over me, my body becoming numb as I dreaded the dinner that was about to take place. My heart was beating savagely, I could feel it against my ribs. I don't think I can even eat like this. I have to pretend to be alright.

I'm so tired of pretending.