Tied

The bus wheezed to a shuddering halt and I stood up, along with the rest of the highschoolers. We jostled our way to the door and I stepped into the highschool bus lot. The wind rustled my dyed black hair, blowing my bangs away from my face. I scowled and brushed my hair over my eyes again, stomping to my first period class as the bell rang across campus. My bus was always late, the stupid old slug.
I slouched into my seat in World History, my least favorite class. Oh who am I kidding? They're all my least favorite class, except for Digital Music Recording. I have this thing for music. It's like poetry with a heartbeat.
My friend Rhea sat next to me, but she was already taking notes. She's one of those "actually cares about school" types. I do relatively well in school, but I just don't see the purpose of most of what we have to learn. When am I ever going to need to know the differences between the 2nd and 5th Crusades? Or how to find the equation of some line on some stupid graph? Needless to say, I'm not in any AP classes, unlike Rhea.
She seemed jittery today. She kept writing short snippets of things in her journal and pulling the hem of her shirt down, even though no skin was showing.
"Heya Rhea." I said, causing her to jump.
"Oh hey Raven. What's up?" I shrugged. The words seemed to burn into my skin, begging to be revealed. I winced slightly and scratched my hip, but she didn't seem to notice.
"Nothing really. You?" She fell silent. Silent even compared to her usually quite mannerisms. She ran her hand over her side, smoothing the fabric slightly before she shook her head and smiled.
"Not much. I just had some strange dreams last night." She trailed off and started writing again. The words screamed in my mind, reminding me of my own dreams last night. I shrugged and leaned back in my chair, staring out the window to the bus lot where the first gym class was jogging out to the ball field for class.
The teacher asked the class a question and I ignored her. Rhea raised her hand, of course, and I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. The words on my hip burned, and I noticed that Rhea's shirt had slipped up a little. On her side were black words.
I startled and turned around to get a closer look, but by that time she had already lowered her hand and was answering the teacher's question.
I hurriedly scribbled a note on a piece of notebook paper and folded it up.

Rhea,
Meet me in the bathroom at lunch. I have something I need to tell you, and I will cry big tears if you don't come. So come.
-R

I casually rolled my pencil onto the floor and leaned over to pick it up. In the process, I secretly dropped the folded up note in Rhea's lap. She picked it up and started reading it under the desk.
She scribbled a response and tossed the paper into my unzipped bookbag. I picked it up and read the elegant cursive.

I'll be there. I have something to tell you too. It's really freaky.
-other R

I smiled and crumpled the note back into my bag.
One very long class period later, the bell finally rang and Rhea and I parted ways to go to our next classes. My next class, gym, passed rather uneventfully, except for one girl getting a sprained ankle on the track and having to be escorted to the nurse's office by guess who? Me. The unwilling good samaritan.
English passed incredibly slowly. Seriously, how long can a teacher drone on about semicolons? Did she really expect us to listen the whole time? It can't be that interesting to someone. I have never understood why someone would choose English as a college major.
We read some more of Lord of the Flies and she assigned an essay due next week.
Lord of the Flies was a cool book, but an essay just ruined it.
Finally, the lunch bell rang. I strolled down the hall against the flow of traffic. I stepped into the bathroom and waited for Rhea.