"How long are you planning on doing this?" McKenna asked me.

"Forever."

She rolled her eyes, clearly not amused.

I just took a bite of my burger, observing my canvas in front of me.

My piece was only half-finished, but it was coming together nicely.

"You can't stay in the Art Room forever Lee."

"I'm not staying in here McKenna," I answered, my voice taking a bit of a sharper tone.

I'm taking solitude in here.

McKenna shot me a disapproving look, leaning against the opposing wall.

"Just talk to her."

"I will."

McKenna let out a frustrated sigh, because I've been telling her that since Tuesday, today being Thursday.

And so far all I've done is take solitude in the Art Room during all of my freetime, isolating myself from the outside world.

Whenever I thought about facing my friends after my outburst at breakfast last week, my chest would constrict and an overwhelming sensation of panic would take over.

My Panic Disorder struck at the worst times, and this was one of them.

I didn't know what to say to them. Sorry I never told you that I was bipolar. Sorry for exploding on you during breakfast. Sorry Kara that you're a bitch that doesn't know proper English.

But I knew going into the friendship that Kara was the way she was. She was blunt, straight-forward about what she was thinking. And she wasn't afraid to tell you exactly what was on her mind.

She just didn't always have the proper vocabulary to do so.

And I shouldn't have exploded on her in the way that I did. But I was having a day, and Kara got caught in the crossfire.

And I can't take back my attitude, the way that I blurted out that I was bipolar before slamming my breakfast tray across the table and storming out.

That was childish and uncalled for. And I could practically feel my friends' judgment from here in the Art Room.

I couldn't possibly face them now.

McKenna thought that I was being childish now. That I should own up and face them.

But she didn't understand the crippling panic that I felt inside whenever I thought about doing so, rendering me incapable of seeing my own friends.

Having a Panic Disorder was weird.

"I'm not trying to pressure you into doing anything," McKenna murmured, her gaze set on mine. "But I hate seeing you holed up in here every day. You can't just expect to spend the rest of the school year eating your meals in the backroom of the Art Room Lee, ignoring your friends."

I don't see why not.

"Kara wants to talk to you."

I just shrugged.

She let out a sigh, dropping the subject for the time being. "Do you want to do something Saturday afternoon?"

"Do something?"

She nodded. "I finished my piece for the Art Exhibition, so I figured that we could get some coffee or go downtown, I don't know. Just do something."

I couldn't help but smile.

"I'd love to."

She smiled as well.

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