Losing Control

It rained the next day. That was the first thing I noticed when I woke up, apart from the incessant beeping of my alarm. The pitter-patter of rain battering the roof. Last year, that sound would've been a relief- a much needed break from the dryness and the boiling heat. But here? Here, it was just another shitty day. It was barely September, yet the sun had only made a few rare appearances.

Normally, I would've been upset, my mood dark like the weather. For some reason, though, today I was hopeful. Mostly because it was another chance to see Austin. Memories of yesterday in my room had pestered me through another sleepless night. For once, though, revisiting memories of the past wasn't a bad thing.

As I slipped a shirt over my small frame, my phone buzzed. A text message. Funny, because nobody ever texted me in the morning. Funny, because nobody ever texted me, period. I swiped my hand across the screen to unlock it. It displayed a text from Dan, saying that he was going to be at my house in five minutes to drive me to school.

I hurried to finish getting ready so that I wouldn't make him late, seeing as though he probably had to wake up an hour earlier than usual to be able to pick me up. The thing was, he'd never been willing to do that before. He took the few hours of sleep he got after spending most of the night watching YouTube videos very seriously.

The rain was coming down even harder as Dan pulled into the driveway and blared the horn impatiently. It soaked my hair as I ran toward the car, the piece of toast that I'd been eating dangling out of my mouth as I tried to open the car door.

As soon as I slammed it behind me, Dan gunned the gas, and I could see that he hadn't even bothered to shift into park. He raced down the woodsy street, my seatbelt not even completely on yet. The bus-stop blurred behind us.

"Dude, slow down," I said, though it came out garbled from the toast that I was still gripping with my teeth.

"What?" Dan snapped, irritated.

"I said," I responded, taking my toast into my hand so that I could speak clearly. "Why're you driving so fast? Got somewhere to be? School doesn't even start for twenty minutes."

Dan tried to shrug nonchalantly, though his anxiety was obvious.

"Well, you didn't have to drive me then, if you've got somewhere to go."

Silence.

"Why are you driving me, anyways?"

Dan didn't respond, suddenly interested in the windshield-wipers.

"Oh," I said quietly, a sudden realization dawning on me. "You heard about what happened yesterday."

He nodded slowly, stealing a nervous glance at me before turning back to the road.

"Who told you, then?"

His response was shaky, somewhat unsure. "I just, y'know, heard it around school."

I narrowed my eyes. "Bull. You were in the office all day, remember?"

He looked away, unwilling to meet my eyes. We both stared at the yellow and white lines blurring on the road, the rain pouring on the windows.

I finally spoke. "It was Austin, wasn't it."

Dan sighed, knowing that I'd keep bothering him until he gave me a straight answer. "Yeah. Yeah, it was Austin."

Anger swelled in my chest, squelching down the initial wave of betrayal. I came clean to Austin, and he went and told the next person he saw. I was such a fucking idiot. Why did I trust him? Why did I think that he actually cared? Sure, Dan was my friend. But all that stuff...nobody, not even Austin, was supposed to know that. I just thought I owed him an explanation because of my episode in the hallway. Shit, did Dan know about that too? Who else did Austin tell? If my parents found out, they'd pull me out of school for sure. Or worse.

I guess Dan could sense my horror, because he slowed to the side of the road and looked at me with a sad expression. "Listen, Austin was just trying to help, okay? And those guys at school are just a bunch of twats. I couldn't care less whether you're gay or straight. But I do care if those guys are fucking with you. So now you don't have to put up with their crap on the bus."

Dan restarted the car, and with a grumble of the engine, we were driving again. I wanted to hug Dan right then and there, because for some reason, he actually cared. But that would probably get us both killed, so I made a lame attempt at talking to him. "Yeah, um, thanks."

We rode the rest of the way without speaking, though it was only a few minutes. My previous anger was all but gone after learning that Austin had only told about the bullying shit. Dean and what happened in the hallway remained secrets. In a way, I was sorta grateful. Now I didn't have to sit on the bus, sit through my own personal hell.

As Dan pulled into a parking space in front of the school, his previous nervousness seemed to have returned. After we'd both grabbed our stuff, he set a quick pace through the rain to the front doors. He was a lot taller than me, so I almost had to run to keep up. When we got to the safe dryness inside the doors, Dan turned to fix his hair by his reflection in the window. He moaned in frustration when he couldn't keep his black hair from hanging limply over his forehead.

"Going on a date or something?" I chuckled.

He rolled his eyes, shoving me in fake annoyance towards the sophomore wing. I wasn't exactly looking forward to walking down the hallway, but Dan made it more bearable. The sneers of "homo" and "Ginger Princess" came, as I knew they would. But if it was within earshot of Dan, he'd shoot a death glare in their direction. It was like having my own personal bodyguard. Though against any of the jocks, he wouldn't stand a chance.

We made quick stops at both of our lockers, then walked over to the chemistry room. I dropped my stuff onto our table with a thud, arms glad to be free of the weight of the ridiculously heavy textbook. I scraped back my chair, sitting down and pulling out my notebook. I waited for Dan to do the same, but he remained standing.

His face looked conflicted, and maybe just a tiny but embarrassed. "Listen, uh, I'll be right back, okay?"

I pushed my eyebrows together. "Er, sure."

He shouldered his way through the group of kids huddled around the door, his bright red sweatshirt standing out. I looked at the clock above the doorway as his frame receded into the crowd. Ten minutes until the start of class. Dan had time. It was fine. Though where the hell was he going, anyways? Everybody else had to be in class by now. The bathroom, maybe? I turned to the empty seat beside me. He hadn't even bothered to leave his books. He wasn't...leaving, was he? Then again, everyone seemed to eventually.

I glanced at the clock again, my anxiety rising with each tick of the tiny red hand. Each second perched on the edge of my seat, craning my neck to try and catch sight of Dan walking through the door. Yet he didn't appear. I cracked my knuckles in my lap, not caring that the sound drew attention to me. Everyone was already staring anyways.

Five minutes. Four minutes. Three. Two. One. The seat beside me remained empty.

Mr. Day closed the door to the classroom. "Good morning, class."

No, not a good morning. An awful morning, actually. How could Dan leave me like that? Did he even mean all of that shit he'd said in the car before?

I begrudgingly opened up to my notes from yesterday, determined not to look up at the crowd of people I knew were watching me.

Mr. Day began his lecture, and I immediately felt any tiny shred of focus slip away. I didn't have the best attention span to begin with, and besides, it wasn't like I needed to hear all the dirty remarks muttered in my direction.

I retreated inside my head, thoughts quickly spiraling downward into that darkness that I'd been running from for so long. I guess even the meds had their limitations. It was sort of a comfort, to an extent. The dulling numbness, instead of the rollarcoaster of emotions that was the past few days. The problem was, I knew what came afterwards. God, why did I have to be alone now, today of all days?

Alone, like always. Everybody left, sooner or later. Dean first. Now Dan. I wondered how long until Austin followed suit. Or if he'd even been there to begin with.

"Your lab report, Mr. Ashby?"

I looked up from my hands to see Mr. Day standing in front of my table. I straightened my back as to not seem so small, even though he was standing up. And besides, when was I ever not tiny? Not invisible?

The teacher snapped his fingers, eager to snatch up my homework and get on with the lesson. But...shit. I didn't have time to finish that report last night, even though I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep. Not that I cared. At this point, I didn't really care about anything. I knew I should, but I just didn't.

"I don't have it," I said, my voice void of expression. At least I had the grace not to look him in the eye.

Mr. Day sighed, mumbling something about Dan rubbing off on me. He put the stack of everyone else's papers on his desk before going back to continue his rambling at the front of the room.

Some kids near me chuckled at my forgetfulness. I shrugged it off, my ability to give a fuck almost nonexistent.

One kid, the one who'd started the whole Ginger Princess thing the other day, turned around to lean his arms on my table. I raised my eyebrows at him, unreasonably confident. Or maybe just not caring about what happened.

"Hey, Gingey, what happened? Out too late sucking dick last night to do your homework?"

I made an amused face at him. "I don't even know your name, but please, for god's sake, fuck off."

I could see anger growing behind his eyes. "It's Seth," he spat. "And you better watch it, kid. Weren't so tough yesterday, were you?"

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. That was him? That meant he saw...then who did he tell? I could feel the walls inside me collapsing, the support beams of my hardened resolve fading into nothingness. The empty hole inside me opened up once again. I bit my lip, blinking slowly to try and calm myself.

It didn't work.

"Yeah, I saw that," Seth sneered, sensing my unease. "Your little breakdown. How your gay-ass boyfriend had to come save you. I bet he's even more fucked up then you are."

Great, now Austin was getting dragged into this. I felt my stomach sink. He'd hate me for sure now. Once again, I'd just screwed everything up.

Luckily, Mr. Day called out Seth's name and forced his attention back to the front of the room. He grinned at me as he took his time to turn forwards, clearly pleased with himself. As soon as his eyes were off me, I pressed my fingers to the corner of my eye to wipe away a stray tear that had escaped.

Calm. Composure.

But those were two things I simply didnt have.

I raised my hand, steadied it from shaking. Class was nearly over, but I needed to get out now. "Can I go to the bathroom please?" I asked, and when Mr. Day nodded, I hurried out if the classroom without a backward glance. I didn't want to know how many pairs of judgemental eyes were trained on my back.

Even though I didn't really need to go to the bathroom, I figured it would be the best place to hide out until class was over. Just listen to some music. Figure out what the hell I was supposed to do.

I made my way down the long and hideously orange hallway, the bathrooms at the end. I shouldered through the door, hoping for some quiet alone time. But the bathroom wasn't empty.

A dark-haired figure had somebody else pressed up against the wall, the other person clenching their fingers in his hair. The two were locked at the lips, breathing in gasps and completely absorbed in one another.

My first instinct was to leave, go find another bathroom to hide out in. Until I realized whose back was against the wall.

Black bangs framing his face, bright red sweatshirt demanding attention. It was Dan.

The other boy, whose tongue Dan's was tangled with, was slightly taller than him. His hair was also black, like his clingy skinny jeans, and I felt as though I recognized him from somewhere. Staring at the checkers on his plaid shirt, I realized that I knew him from the concert. He was Austin's friend. Phil, I thought it was?

I didn't even know what to say. My cheeks were bright red, an intruder about to be caught in the act. The other two hadn't noticed me yet, so I silently backed out of the bathroom and left them alone. It was clear that Dan liked Phil better than me, so why would I try and get in the way of that? He's chosen to cut class to be with Phil, and there was nothing I could do about it. I could, however, refrain from making Dan dislike me even more.

As I pushed back through the door and into the hallway, the bell rang. The hallway began to fill with people, and I attempted to get back to the chemistry room and grab my stuff.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, then reopened them. I saw black spots, but it didn't make the aching in my head go away. I didn't even know what to do. I knew that the day was only going to get worse from here, and I needed to talk to somebody. Anybody.

Dan was out of the question. I still didn't know how I felt about him. Angry, definitely. But he was still my friend, wasn't he? I wasn't mad that he was gay, but the fact that he hid it from me...

The only other person that came to mind was Austin, but I didn't know his schedule. Only band, which was at the end of the day. I needed to talk to him now.

I wandered the hallway, hoping to catch sight of another senior that I knew. When I finally spotted Tino, I rushed over, tapping him on the shoulder. I immediately drew my hand back, though, realizing how much I was mimicking Maddie.

"Hey Alan," smiled Tino, stuffing books into his overcrowded locker.

"Hey," I said, my nerves making me jump straight to the point. "D'you know where Austin is?"

Tino shook his head, pressing his lips together in a thin line. "Sorry, I don't think he's actually at school today."

"Oh," I said, my face falling. "Well, thanks anyways."

With that I walked away, though Tino probably had more to say. I just didn't want to hear it. I shoved my way back into the chemistry room to grab my discarded books. I saw that somebody had scrawled "fag" overtop my notes in thick sharpie marker.

Hold it together.

I made my way back to my locker with an expression void of emotion. Complete numbness, masking the aching pain inside. Like always, I just had to fake a smile and get through the day.

***

"Alan, we need to talk."

The door to my room creaked open, Mom standing in the opening. I looked up from my half-completed overdue lab report that I'd been working on, another pile of homework stacked on my desk.

She slowly made her way towards me, pausing to glance at the posters on my walls and to run a finger over the picture of me and Dean hanging on my ajar closet door. She gave me a sad smile as she sat down on the edge of my bed. I closed my laptop halfway and pulled my headphones out, waiting for her to speak. I knew this couldn't be good.

"I received a phone call from the school today, saying that you cut eighth period yesterday. Is this true?"

I nodded, my eyes downcast. No point in lying about it. I'm sure she was certain already.

"I've also learned that you had a..." she paused, searching for a good word to use. "...an episode during school."

I could feel my face crumble, piling with guilt, embarrassment, shame. I said nothing, not wanting to admit that it was the truth.

"It was supposed to be better here," she said, disappointment clear in her voice. I just shrugged.

Her face looked sad, and I swallowed hard, hating the feeling in my gut from knowing that it was all my fault.

"I've made an appointment for you with Dr. Sykes for the day after tomorrow, it was the earliest he could fit you in. Until then, I want you to stay home from school."

I shook my head in disbelief. "No. No way."

She simply nodded at me. "I can't risk that happening again, especially at school. I can't be worrying about you all the time."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. "You need help, Alan. Please, let me get it for you. You need to move on from Dean."

With that, she left my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I fully closed my laptop, since now I wasn't going to school tomorrow anyways. I got up and flipped off the lights, then flopped back down onto my bed. I pulled the blankets up high, curled my knees into my chest.

You need help, Alan.
Did she not think that I knew that? That I understood how utterly fucked-up my head was? How could she not realize that she was just making things worse? I bet she was in her room now, whispering to Dad about how much she thought they should up my meds.

You need to move on from Dean.
That wasn't possible. Even now, after swallowing the Zoloft, he still constantly breezed through my mind. Dropped my mood a degree even lower than before, if that was possible. Why couldn't I stop thinking about him? Was it really that easy for other people to forget?

Sleep wouldn't come that night, and I spent most of it listening to the rain beat on the roof. The clap of thunder. The dash of lightning streaking by the window. I could feel the pillow growing wet beneath my tear-stained cheek, though I made no move to wipe it off.

After four restless hours, I stood and began to pace my room, the walls ignited by the flashes of lightning. I tugged open the closet door, ripping the picture from it. I clutched it in my hand, running a shaking finger over the face I knew so well. I missed him. That was the only thing I knew for certain. I missed him, and I was going to miss him for the rest of my life. No therapy was going to be able to change that.

The sadness inside me bubbled into anger. Anger at Dean for starting this whole mess, for fucking up my head. Anger at Mom, for meddling into my business and trying to fix things that were beyond repair. Anger at Dan, for deserting me when I needed him. Anger at myself, for being such an awful burden on so many people.

I clenched my fist, crumbling the photo into a ball. My rage persisted, and I ripped the photo in half. It wasn't like we could ever be together anyways. I let the pieces drop to the floor, heat flowing through my veins. And a burning. On my back. It was too hot. I slipped my shirt off over my head, touching a tentative finger to my back. My scars. They felt as though they were on fire.

What the hell was going on? Was I hallucinating now too? I pushed open the door, padding into the bathroom. I squinted at my reflection in the mirror under the bright countertop lights. I ran my fingers through my tangled red hair, opening and closing my eyes as if maybe I'd eventually just disappear.

My back looked normal, though my scars seemed as though they were glowing. It was just the light. At least, that's what I told myself.

I opened the cabinet next to the mirror, rummaging through the various bottles and containers. I filled a glass of water, then another. When I finally returned to bed, I was able to finally fall into the blissful nothingness.

My eyes drooped, but I jerked them open as I thought I saw a shadow moving across the room. Yet I found myself not really caring either way. Probably just another symptom of my insanity. The sound of the pouring rain receded as I fell from consciousness, not really caring whether I woke up or not.

However, I did wake up. My alarm was buzzing, since I'd forgotten to turn it off the night before. Sunlight streamed through the windows, making my room appear to glow. I glanced around. Everything seemed normal. The door was still closed from the night before.

Except when I looked at the closet door, I noticed that the picture was back up, the two halves taped back together, whole once again.