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"He has a fucking girlfriend," Dalia said as she slammed her locker door.

She started speed-walking away to no avail. Wendy was hot on her tail.

"Who are we talking about?"

Dalia's Converse boots squeaked against the blue tiles as she tried to make her way down the hall. She didn't even know where she was going. All she knew was that the tears were. burning at the back of her eyes.

Wendy grabbed her and turned her around. "Are you talking about Lawrence?"

"Yes, I'm talking about Lawrence, Wendy, who else would I be talking about?"

She tried turning around again, but Wendy stopped her, yet again. Dalia didn't know Wendy was that strong; she was trying pretty hard to get away.

They just looked at each other for a while. Dalia was waiting on her friend to say something, but Wendy looked completely absent.

"Hello?" Dalia waved her free arm in Wendy's face.

"Oh, right. I was just looking at your hair. That's a great look on you girl," Wendy pointed her free hand around Dalia's scalp.

Dalia touched it. It was out in an afro that day. "My last hair tie broke and I haven't been in a store in like... months."

"Girl, I know. Your parents had you in the house losing."

After their little episode, Dalia self-isolated for a while. She was embarrassed that she'd let herself blow up the way she did. It was a step out of character, and that was her favorite set of earrings that she'd discarded. She could always ask for them back, but that was against her principles.

What took her by surprise was when her mother opened her bedroom door and peeked her head in.

Dalia hadn't left her room during the daytime in seven days.

She'd become nocturnal for the most part, only leaving to pee and siphon something to eat from the kitchen. She didn't know when she was going to stop, but she also knew it wasn't going to be any time soon.

There was a pile of wrappers sitting by her bedside; she'd always forget to get a trash bag when she darted out the door.

She knew that her parents wouldn't bother her; her dad was too sheepish for conflict and her mother didn't care. That was good that once.

All that went to shit when Joelle Glees wrapped her red fingertips around Dalia's doorknob and invited herself in.

"I could've been naked. You should have knocked," Dalia said with her back facing the door. She assumed it was her dad.

"I was just checking on you."

Dalia's head shot up. That was not her dad's voice.

"What's the occasion?"

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Yes, but it's your house so go ahead."

Joelle let out a sigh, but sat nonetheless.

Dalia blinked really hard to make sure she wasn't tripping before she turned to face the woman.

"Are you alright?" Joelle asked

She blinked again.

"Uh, yeah?"

"I'm serious Dalia. I know that we don't have a traditional relationship or a traditional family, and I know that you like staying to yourself in this room, but something does not feel right and I need to make sure you're alright."

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