The Pros and Cons of Breathing

After spending about a week and a half in the quiet solitude of my home, I was almost itching to get to school. I stood in front of my mirror in my bedroom, contemplating my outfit. It consisted of a long, flowy gray tank top with a graphic print of a black Día de Muertos sugar skull, black leggings and gray lace-up boots that rose to my mid-calf. Simple enough, I thought. I left my hair down in waves and kept my make-up to light lining around my eyes. It's not like I had anyone to look pretty for.

The alarm clock on my nightstand read 7:34, so I grabbed my backpack and rushed downstairs. My mom greeted me with a breakfast burrito and lunch money for the week. "You're the best!" I grinned at her, kissing her on the cheek.

"I know." She replied with a shrug, "Be good, no fighting!"

I laughed and headed outside to wait for Kate to pick me up. I didn't have to wait long; we had a routine and she was always at my house at 7:45 on the dot to drive me to school. Scottie was with her, so I shoved my other best friend into the middle to make room for myself.

"Hey, hey, jail bird! Glad to see you sprung." Kate chirped before reversing out of my driveway and pulling away toward Hell on Earth.

Scottie patted my knee, "It's been so boring without you."

I snorted, "Uh huh."

"Oh-my-god, but can we talk about that awesome hit you landed on Maria?" Kate gushed.

"Oh please, it was a week ago!" I diverted, "Let's just hope everyone's moved on. I'm sick of this drama."

We pulled into the parking lot of the high school with about ten minutes to spare. Students were milling into the building as we got out of the truck, and no one seemed to notice us. I let out a breath of relief. Ex-boyfriend drama averted.

"Who do you have for first period?" Scottie asked Kate and I as we located our lockers in the junior hall.

Like the year before, I was right next to Scottie, but at least Kate was only four away this time, instead of on the opposite end of the hallway. We began unloading our books and I pulled out my schedule that I picked up during orientation last week. "Uh, Hessler."

"Mrs. Green." Kate called.

"Mrs. Green." Scottie announced as well. Damn.

Kate sauntered over and we compared schedules. I had Scottie in my second period and Kate in my fourth, but that was it. I pouted. "This year is gonna suck," I whined.

The bell rang and we parted ways with the agreement to meet in the courtyard at lunch. I found Mr. Hessler's room right before the tardy bell rang. He was an older man, a little rotund and ornery looking, but looks were deceiving. I knew from what I heard last year that he was one of the nicer teachers.

As he started roll, I glanced around for familiar faces and saw none. Well, none that I was on good terms with. Jessica Crowley, who was the girlfriend of one of Adam's football friends, sat two seats to my right, but didn't even send me an acknowledging glance. My confidence dropped. However, no one said a single thing to me as Mr. Hessler droned on and on about this year's U.S. History syllabus, so I figured that whatever drama Adam had started fizzled out over the summer.

I was wrong.

By third period, the whispering reached a dull hum throughout the halls, although they subsided a little in the classrooms. I was subjected to dirty looks from females, and snickering and leering looks from males. No matter how much I wished for it, I had yet to encounter a hole in the ground that would swallow me up and end my misery.

Kate was waiting for me with a seat saved in the back of English. "So judging from the look on your face, you've been hearing the rumors too."

"Not so much, just getting a lot of whispering and dirty looks," I replied, throwing myself into the chair and slouching low, "Why? What are the rumors?"

She shrugged as she doodled nervously in her notebook, "You're supposedly a pathetic ex that won't leave Adam alone. I overheard some girl in second period saying that after Adam dumped you, you tried to bribe him with sex or whatever to get him back. They're making you look desperate and crazy." She hissed her last sentence out, shoulders tensing, and I watched as her pencil bore more and more pressure against the paper.

I was numb. It was hard to decide which was worse, that people would say those things about me, or that they would believe them. "No one's saying anything about you or Scottie, are they?" I asked quietly after a few minutes.

Kate turned to study me. "Sweetie, it wouldn't make a difference. They're already saying things about you, and that's just the same as if they were talking about me. You're our best friend, and if you're hurting, we're hurting."

She rubbed my shoulder, but I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say or do. Never had I felt so powerless.



My jaw hurt from gritting my teeth. As we cleared the classroom and entered the crowded hallway, I was grateful that my next class was Art. Even though I couldn't draw for shit, it was still therapeutic to smash things in the name of Art. I rounded the corner and hurried in through the open door of Mrs. Drew's class.

I stopped in my tracks.

At the front of the room, talking to Mrs. Drew, was Landon, from Louisville. Louisville Landon.

His fauxhawk was gone. Instead, his inch-long hair was styled messy, as if he'd just woken up. Or had sex. And his classic punk outfit was replaced by a slate gray button down shirt with the sleeves messily rolled up, and fitted dark jeans. The only thing I recognized about him was the gorgeous smile and those beat-up, drawn-on Chucks.

Someone shoved me to get inside, jostling me out of my astonishment. "Excuse you." The shover muttered loudly. Her friend snickered as they made their way to an open table.

Landon's eyes traveled up and landed on me. I was surprised to see a grin creep onto his face. Breaking his stare, I made my way to an empty table in the middle of the class.

After a few seconds of rummaging through my bag for supplies, I heard the screeching sound of metal legs being dragged across the floor. My head snapped up to see Landon settling down in the chair next to me. Several pairs of eyes were staring, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.

"So how have you been, Minty Madison?" He turned to me, propping his head up in his hand.

I stared for a moment before clearing my throat. "Uh- I've, uh, I've been okay."

"Not to sound pushy or desperate, but why didn't you text me? Lost my number?" His voice was neutral, but when I met his gaze, I could see just the tiniest hint of a frown in the corners of his mouth and eyes.

Guilt crept up into my chest, "Sorry, I've had kind of a rough summer."

"All the more reason to have called me." He replied.

Two guys cackled loudly from the next table over, cutting off my response. I averted my eyes back to my bag as one leaned in to Landon and stage-whispered, "Don't bother, dude, the chick's a psycho. And it's not like she's even gonna put out anyway."

My cheeks reddened, but I searched determinedly for my notebook, pretending not to hear them.

"Good," Landon replied, "I'm not some hormonal pig who can't keep it in his pants. I'm not trying get her to put out. Now kindly fuck off and mind your own business." He didn't bother to keep his voice down, and several jaws were hanging open, including mine.

I snapped it shut as he turned back around to face me. "So what did you do this summer?" He asked calmly, as if he didn't just defend my honor and call two guys hormonal pigs in front of the whole classroom.

Mrs. Drew saved me from fumbling for a reply as she called the class's attention with roll. She went through the syllabus and assigned us with an introductory collage project. We could either describe ourselves, or we could describe something that was very important to us. At the end of her instruction, she gave us the remainder of the class period to begin brainstorming.

I tapped my pencil softly against my notebook, mind blanking on an idea. In front of me, two girls were whispering to each other. One looked over at me, catching my eye before turning back to her friend, "I bet she's gonna do her collage on her obsession with Adam."

My pencil froze. What?

"You seem rather popular here."

I looked over at Landon. He was leaning casually in his chair, tipping it on its back legs, but his gaze was narrowed on the girls in front of us. When he glanced back at me, I simply shrugged and returned to my paper.

"Madison…" He began and sighed. Someone snickered close by and I tensed. "Hey," He leaned forward, letting his hand drape over the back of my chair, "What happened?"

I snorted, five minutes from losing it. "You can't tell? It's not like anyone knows how to be fucking subtle around here!" I hissed through gritted teeth.

Before Landon could say anything, the blessed bell rang and I bolted out of my chair, shoving my things back into my bag as I walked.