Voids Above {Lynn Gunn}

chapter two

I woke up the next morning with a strong desire for coffee, so I called Gerald who I knew wouldn't be awake, but it was worth a try. After he missed three of my calls, I decided I was going to walk downtown and stop for a latte before school and probably end up being late. 

It was chilly in my room. That was always interesting to me, because during August, it was burning hot during the day but always freezing in the mornings. I was wrapped in a warm blanket and I had no desire to get up, but I had already missed too many days of school to stay home again. I tended to pretend to be sick so I could sleep in more, which was turning into yet another bad habit.

I forced myself to get out of bed, wrapping my blanket around me like a cape before picking out something to wear, my feet freezing against the hardwood floor beneath them. I used to have a carpet in there before my mom took it out and put it in her room.

I had school at 9, but it was about 8:30 by the time I finished getting ready, so I hurried out the door as quick as I could, only to find Gerald's car parked in my driveway, the engine running. I rolled my eyes and prepared myself for whatever mood he was in today.

"Hey, G," I sighed, walking over to him before opening the door and throwing my backpack inside, sitting in the passenger seat. 

"Hey grumpy. Am I taking you to school?" he pondered, backing out of the driveway at an unreasonably fast speed. I nodded and turned down the obnoxious music emitting from his old stereo.

"But we're stopping for coffee first," I told him, rolling down my window. He shrugged and nodded, not seeming to mind. 

I mentally prepared myself for my French exam, praying it wouldn't be too difficult. I always hated studying, and usually didn't end up doing it. I often just relied on my memory to get me good grades, which wasn't really the best idea, but I had no motivation to do anything else except crawl in bed and hide there forever. 

My face was burning from the cool air blowing through the open window, while Gerald and I stayed silent on the way to the coffee shop.

We didn't end up getting to school until around 9:45, because we spent most of the time smoking in his car and drinking our coffee while talking shit about our teachers. He decided to come to school with me that day, and I was glad, because he was really my only friend there. He attended class maybe once, or twice a week (If I was lucky) and I spent most days sitting alone on the bleachers of the football field, eatting a shitty school lunch that cost more than it was worth.

By the time I was in my Sociology class, my stomach was aching and I felt like throwing up (how I started most days). That was the perk of having anxiety, which usually ended with me hunched over a school toilet, puking my lungs out. I never knew why - there was nothing particularly stressful in my life, and it's not like I was excited by anything either. Everything was just...plain. Ordinary, nothing special. Maybe that's why I felt so sick all the time.

"Kate, you feeling okay?" my teacher wondered, crouching by my desk. I wasn't afraid to tell him what was going on; he was one of the only teachers I had that actually gave a shit about his job and his students. 

"I don't know, I'm not feeling so well. I think it's just my anxiety acting up again. Can I use the bathroom? I just need a moment to breathe," I sighed, rubbing my eyes. He glanced at me with empathy for a moment before nodding. I hurried out of the class and ran down the hall, shoving open the bathroom door before locking myself in a stall, retching.

I don't know how long I was in there for, but it seemed like years before I heard a girl's voice outside of the stall. 

"Hey, are you okay in there?"

I coughed before wiping my mouth with some toilet paper, blushing from embarrassment. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry," I mumbled, flushing the toilet before exiting the stall, walking over to the sink to wash my hands and rinse my mouth. I just kept thinking about how disgusting she must have thought I was. And I wondered what was going through her head, why she thought I was vomiting in the school's bathroom in the middle of fourth period.

"Are you sure you're okay? I mean, you sound really sick," she replied, following me over to the sink. I turned to look at her and put a face to her voice, and was shocked when I laid my eyes on her. Her eyes were a deep green, almost muddy, her lips thin, pursed, and a silver nose ring. Her brunette hair was shaved on one side, draped across the other shoulder, reaching just below her rib cage. She was tall, but skinny, and had two slits in her left eyebrow.

"Yeah, just have some anxiety. Thanks," I assured her, drying my hands. I felt weak and feeble, like my body was more vulnerable than ever. I had always been quite small, with thin limbs and sharp shoulder blades and pronounced collar bones, but in that moment I felt tinier than ever.

"Okay. I'm Lynn, by the way," she told me, introducing herself, holding out her hand for me to shake. I took it in mine and smiled weakly at her.

"I'm Kate. I should get back to class," I said, tucking a piece of my short black hair behind my ear. My skin was deathly pale, and I tried to imagine how lifeless I looked. My short bangs were stuck to my forehead with sweat, and I had bags under my eyes that no makeup could fix.

"Sure, see you around," she smiled, right before I left and hurried down the hall, opening the door to my classroom slowly, trying not to be too loud or noticeable.

"Feel better?" my teacher wondered, handing me a packet to fill out for the movie we were watching. I just nodded, taking my seat. I rested my head on my arms, my head down as I tried to calm my pounding heart, telling myself there was nothing to be anxious about. 

I knew there would be makeup on my sleeve when I sat up.