Here With You

“Your parents are still making you go?” Sarah asked as she struggled to open a pack of Red Vines. I had left for Sarah’s house shortly after leaving band practice. I called Sarah up asking if I could hang out there for a bit and she willingly agreed. I gave her the full story when I arrived.

I tucked strand of hair behind my ear, “Yep, Zach even thinks I should be going.”

Sarah crinkled her nose, “he’s not on your side?” she grabbed a couple of Red Vines out of the package before sliding them over to me.

I shrugged, “he thinks I need to talk to someone every once in a while.” I bit into a Red Vine and leaned back on the headboard of Sarah’s bed. “But I have you, Emily, Zack, my mom and dad…and you’re all free!”

“Your one hour therapy session starts now.”

I smiled and laughed a little, before heaving a sigh. “I’m nervous for tomorrow…” I looked down in my lap, fidgeting with my fingers. “I…don’t know how I…how my anxiety will be.” I closed my eyes; it was always hard for me to talk about my anxiety, even with my closest friends and family. I was embarrassed by it, though I know I shouldn’t be. I felt like there was something wrong with me, and there was, but I was afraid people would think I was crazy or pathetic and that they’d laugh. “I’m just worried about having an attack while I’m in class and I can’t leave. When I have an attack all I can concentrate on is getting out of wherever I’m at. I get shaky and nauseous, and I get clammy and my throat feels like it’s closing up.” I started to get worked up just thinking about it.

“Valerie, I know how strong you are and I know how much you fight against your anxiety, so I know you can make it through this. Tomorrow you’re going to walk into school, go to class and not have any problems with your anxiety. And if you start to feel anxious you’re going to sit back and breathe or draw on a sheet of notebook paper because I know you love art. If you can’t handle the attack ask for a pass to go to the nurse, go lay down and regroup in there.”

“What if the teacher doesn’t let me out of class?”

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the ‘what if’s’ Val. They’re not helping you at all. This demon is going to keep getting bigger and bigger. It’s building up inside of you and if you don’t stop it, it’s going to consume you. Think positive, okay? I know it’s easier said than done, and I know I don’t understand, but I’m trying, I really am, and so is Emily. So let us know how we’re doing, okay?

You’re my best friend and I love you like a sister. It’s so hard seeing you go through this and knowing that I can’t really do anything to help you or to make it go away. And believe me, if I could, I would take it away from you.”

Tears began to sting my eyes; I looked up at Sarah and saw her watery eyes. I gave a smile and sat up, wrapping my arms around her. “You’re the best therapist ever!”

“I try,” she laughed a little as she pulled out of our hug. “Now, let’s finish this bag of Red Vines and watch Sex and the City!”

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“Welcome back!!!” was written in bright orange letters and hung across two pillars of the school building. I adjusted my backpack and rolled my eyes. What a lie. It should say something along the lines of “hahahahahah sucks to be you!!!” I reached into my pocket and unfolded my schedule to find my locker number. 752 SECTION C. I crinkled my nose at the location; it was by the courtyard where students ate lunch which meant it would occasionally smell like garbage. I trudged across campus, watching fake girls give fake hugs and kisses to their fake friends, freshman looking completely lost, and teachers looking just as unhappy as us students.

A skateboarder whisked by me and brought me out of my people watching trance, “watch it!” I growled as I shot a glare at their back. They came to a stop and stepped on the tip of the board, flicking it up into the air, and caught it. The person turned around, “Valerie?”

“Nathan?”

He laughed and walked over to me, “I thought that sounded like your voice.”

“You know my voice?” I asked, shocked. He had only known me for a week or so.

He nodded, “it has this distinct sound…it’s hard to explain. That’s the first time I heard your rude tone.”

I looked down as my face turned red. Sure Val, make an idiot of yourself on the first day of school to the boy you’re crushing on. “S-sorry. I didn’t know it was you. Y-you, you just startled me is all.” And cue the stutter. I was mentally smacking the palm of my hand against my forehead.

He raised an eyebrow before glancing at the piece of paper I was still holding in my hand. He snatched it from my grasp. I watched his brown eyes scan the page from top to bottom. His eyes flicked up to mine and I quickly looked away. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and bit my lip thinking that I would somehow prevent me from saying something incredibly stupid right now. I looked down at my scuffed grey converse and suddenly wished I had worn my gold sandals that had the giant emerald green gem in the middle.

“We have lab together.”

My head jerked up, “you’re taking AP physics too?” Well obviously he is, Val, because he just said he had it with you.

“Do I not look smart enough?” he smiled his toothy grin.

I knew he was only kidding but I felt the need to justify myself, “No!” My eyes got wide realizing that it totally sounded like I told him he didn’t look smart enough. “I mean that no as in no that’s not what I meant! You look smart enough. Not that you look like a dork or anything…not that there’s anything wrong with looking like a dork, you know? More power to them!” I sighed. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

Nathan had an amused look on his face, “You can keep going if you want.” He held my schedule out towards me.

I shook my head and grabbed the paper. I set my backpack down on the cement wall to the side of us and unzipped it before shoving the paper inside.

“Are you serious?” I looked up at him confused. “Is that really a shark backpack?”

He clearly thinks I’m a loser.

“Yeah…” I zipped it back up and slung it on my back. “I-uh-I should go find my locker.” I quickly walked past him and towards my locker bay.

“See ya in lab!” I didn’t say anything back, I just kept walking.

I reached my locker and spun my combination that was also written on the top of my paper. Our schedules were mailed to us a week ago and I had already taken the time out to memorize my locker combination. Zach made fun of me every time I randomly said it out loud. I pushed up on the hitch and pulled but nothing happened. Of course I got a bum locker. I jiggled it furiously waiting for it to miraculously open…and it did one minute and too many weird stares later.

I hung my backpack on the hook. I was proud of my shark backpack. It was black and had two zipper sections. In between it was painted red with white triangles for teeth. The sides even had small little pockets that resembled gills. I had to order it all the way from China. I pulled out a notebook and a pen and shut my locker, only having to reopen it after realizing my schedule was still in there. I had yet to memorize that.

I headed towards the courtyard to find Sarah and Emily. We had sat at the same table since freshman year. It was a circle table on the far right of the courtyard that sat underneath the oak tree. I saw Emily sitting at the table when it came into view. I set my notebook down on the table with a loud clunk. I sat on the bench across from her and grabbed a clump of grapes sitting in the bowl in the middle of the table. I plucked one off and popped it into my mouth.

“I’m stuck with a locker that doesn’t open unless you jiggle it for a minute.” I plucked another grape off and ate it.

She laughed, “I have a freshman next to me. The poor kid couldn't figure out how to open his locker. He turned the knob clockwise first.” She gathered her dark hair and pulled it to one side of her head.

“Did you help him?”

“No. How terrible am I?!”

I let out a loud laugh that was probably louder than necessary. “You’re so going to H-E-double-hockey-stick!”

“Are you ready for today?”

“No. But I’m trying to convince myself that I am. That counts for something, right?”

She nodded, “thinking positively helps! It’s totally Zen.”

“We are not talking about Zen.” Sarah sighed as she sat down.

“Emily said it.”

“Hey! I’m just encouraging her to think positively.”

“Well, do it without putting your Zen voo-doo stuff in it.”

The first bell rang signaling that we had ten minutes until first period started. I had creative writing first which was clear across campus. I wished them both luck before heading off to class.

I approached the classroom and began to worry about my anxiety. I caught myself drifting into negative thoughts. I shifted my thoughts away from my anxiety and began counting every step I took. I stepped into the classroom just as the second bell rang. I opted for a seat on the far side of the room, three rows from the front and three rows from the back. I always felt uncomfortable sitting in the back because that’s where the jock boys always sat. I always drifted towards the people that were at the same attractiveness level as me…not to be shallow. I never sat by or really talked to the pretty girls, they were intimidating and I figured they thought I wasn’t acceptable to associate with.

Students filed into the classroom, filling up the seats until there was one open right in front of me. I was hoping that all of the class was already here and that I’d have an empty desk in front of me for the rest of the semester. Wish not granted. Connor Faber, our school’s quarterback ran into the classroom just as the bell rang.
Son of a –

“WELCOME TO CREATIVE WRITING!” our teacher’s voice boomed. Mr. Shay was always known to be loud and energetic. I had him for English I freshman year. He let us hit each other with noodles to act out the fight between the Capulets and Montagues when we read Romeo and Juliet. He also stated that he liked to eat kittens for breakfast. Overall I really liked him as a teacher and I was looking forward to this class.

Connor wove through the row of desks instead of walking in front of all of the desks and then cutting down the aisle to get to the desk in front of me. His muscular frame blocked my view of where Mr. Shay was currently standing. This was going to be a problem if he planned on standing there most of the year when he gave lectures.

“If you’re in this class you obviously enjoy writing. This semester we’ll be concentrating on improving our writing skills. We’ll focus more on storylines and dialogs rather than informative papers. Who likes writing those anyway?”

“Mrs. Driscoll,” a random student spoke up. We all laughed. Mrs. Driscoll was a frizzy haired lady that enjoyed torturing you with insanely boring work and long papers if you were unlucky enough to be in her English class.

One second I was looking at Mr. Shay and the next I was faced with a pair of green eyes. It took me a moment to realize that Connor had turned around. His shaggy brownish-red hair hung down in his eyes and freckles covered his face. He was adorable.

“Do you have a pencil I can borrow?”

“Uh, yeah.” I picked the pencil up off of my desk and handed it to him.

He smiled, showing his dimples, “Thanks, I’ll give it back after class.” That was my only pencil.