The Beautiful You

Three - Creep

I glanced around the small dining hall and internally groaned when I realized there were no empty tables. "AP, come sit with us. Bring your friend too," Cassie said waving me over.  I looked at Amory, and he shrugged nonchalantly. He followed me towards her table, and we sat across from her and her friends.

"Hey, Cassie," I said.

"Why are you coming down just now?" She asked.

"I was using the bathroom. Terrible indigestion, you get it," I said as I stared at her practically empty plate.

"You're so charming. Besides, I don't even eat that crap," She glared at me.

"You could have stopped after 'eat'," I said. Amory kicked my foot and I looked at him, but he was just eating quietly. Was that his way of telling me to back off?

"Fuck off, Perez. I was trying to be nice!" She crossed her arms.

"Nice is the last thing you can be," I said.

"Apollo!" Grace chimed in. "Who's this?" She smiled at Amory.

"He's—"

"Levi! Yeah, I've heard about you! He's the new striker for the soccer team," Cassidy said.

Amory nodded.

"I just moved here. So I haven't really had time to meet anybody outside of the team," he said.

"Wait, the new striker? Wasn't that Jack—"

"Excuse me," I said. I lifted my tray and threw it into the garbage as I made my way to the exit.

Cassie was a bitch. She thought I needed her sympathy for some reason. I walked back towards the dorms and ignored the odd stares I got from the kids in the lunch room. Mom was right, I shouldn't have gone on this trip, and I knew this. If everyone was going to see me like Cassie did, then why bother?

"Mr. Perez, you should still be in the dining hall," Mr. Rogers said.

"I wasn't hungry."

"You should go back down," he said.

"Mr. Rogers, I don't feel well. I want to go home now," I said blankly. I could feel it, the numbness. It was like everything had shut off.

"Apollo, it's okay. It's okay for people to feel bad, and want to reach out to you," he said.

"You were watching me?" I asked, and just like that, a different switch turned on. I curled my hands into fists as I felt the heat in my body rise up.

"No, no, no, I was just—"

"What is it? Am I on suicide watch or something?" I shouted.

"Apollo—"

"Why is it that everyone all of a sudden cares? Why does everyone need to know how I'm doing? Why are my teachers telling me I can have extensions and why don't they get mad at me for slacking off? Why are my classmates so interested in me? They never cared before!" I said as I pushed past him and towards the infirmary. But I stopped outside my dorm room and looked at the white board again.

201

REYES-PEREZ & HARTMANN

I miss Jackson.

So, why didn't I want anyone to know?

"Was it you who erased his name?" I asked.

"Yes," Mr. Rogers replied.

"Did you know?" I asked.

"Did I know what?"

"That Jackson was...that...he wasn't happy?"

Mr. Rogers pressed his lips together and stood next to me as I stared at the whiteboard. He placed a hand on my shoulder and shook his head.

"I didn't see him as often as I used to," Mr. Rogers said.

"I saw him almost every day. Even on the days he said he was feeling sick, I texted him. I should have known!" I said, "It was all there, and I was too dumb to notice it."

"It must be hard to have been his friend and want to blame yourself. Apollo, you're not at fault. I know you don't want me to say this, but I truly am sorry. I forget that you kids are still young. You're not supposed to experience the pain of losing a friend this early, not like this," he said.

"Mr. Rogers, I wasn't a good friend."

I felt my breath begin to increase and my chest tighten. I could hear the sound of my heart racing through my ears. My hand went to my chest as Mr. Rogers grabbed my arm. Suddenly, all I could remember was how my mom's sobs echoed in the hallways as my dad held her tightly, pressing his lips to her head. The light from the police cars, and the burning of the water drowning my lungs as April shrieked for help. Why did I always have to remember these things at these times?

Mr. Rogers firmly grabbed my shoulder as he started speaking. I couldn't hear him. The sounds rattling in my head were louder, deafening. At that point, I had lost control. I had given it up; my body was trembling; I was crying. I let out small whines through every rapid breath as I felt a stabbing sensation through my heart. I was hurting.

It never stops.

"Apollo, breathe. You're hyperventilating," Mr. Rogers said as he slouched over me. I don't remember when my knees gave out. I felt a burning sensation in my hands as I shook them. I looked to the right and saw a pair of red shoes.

"Levi, did you call the nurse?"

More shoes appeared.

The waiting was the worst part. Waiting to catch my breath, waiting to see, to hear, waiting for my body to calm down and tell my head we've had enough, and it's time to move on.

I just want it to let me go because I can't breathe.