Suffocation.

I didn't go to school at all the rest of the week, I didn't bother touching the mounding pile of homework that Daphne brought home for me each day, I didn't take the small white pills Denise picked up from the pharmacy that Doctor Fuller had prescribed me for the 'depression' I am suffering from, I didn't shower, I didn't eat, I made a mold of my curled up body on the mattress of my bed.

But come Monday morning, Daphne as well as my dad and Denise stripped the covers off me and loaded me into the shower, still dressed in a ratty sweat shirt and sweat pants to match. My own father threatening me with the choice between school and a psychiatric clinic.

Even though I chose the clinic, I found myself sitting in my Art History class with the rest of my classmates; acting as if I've been there the entire time.

But by the time gym rolled around, it became difficult to pretend that everything was alright. Though it has been difficult not seeing Graham, I knew that it would be even harder to be in arm's reach of him and not be able to touch him. It would probably kill me.

But when I walked through the large, metal double doors that lead into the gym, I saw a substitute standing in front of the bleachers of kids in preparation to take attendance.

"You're late," the older lady said to me as I took my seat next to Lola who was sporting a long dirty blonde wig.

"I got shot, still trying to get used to walking again," I grumbled out my pathetic excuse.

"Then I'm assuming you're the missing Lennon Abrams?"

"I've been missing?"

"Missing from this class, you weren't here all last week?"

I took a sideways glance at Lola who was too busy picking at the nail polish on her nails to notice. "Where's Mr. Rhodes?"

"Don't know, I'm just the sub."

When Lola and I were finally the last ones in the locker room I asked her if she knew anything, but of course she didn't know, and even thought it had something to do with me, since we've both been MIA. If only she knew how right she was. But I was worried and the uneasy feeling in my gut only grew with each passing second, until I couldn't take it anymore.

Once the bell rang to dismiss the classes I rushed into the lunch room in search of Daphne.

"Give me your keys," I say holding my hand out to her once I reach our table.

"What?"

"I can't be here, give me your keys and I'll pick you up after school."

"No, you have to be here. You know what Dad said."

"Fuck what Dad said. Give me your keys or I'll tell Dad what really happens during your study sessions," I dart my eyes to look at A.J. then back at Daphne.

"Are you blackmailing me?" She asks in disgust.

"Yes, I am. Now please," I ask sympathetically.

"Daph, just give them to her. Your dad actually likes me and I'd like to keep it that way," A.J. tries to help me out.

But Daphne holds my glare with her own evil stare. "She wouldn't tell."

"Try me, just try me Daphne. I will tear down your prefect fucking image so fast, Denise will ship you off to some foreign boot camp for promiscuous sluts!" I shout at her causing the surrounding tables to stop what they were doing and look over at us.

Daphne hesitated but eventually reached into her purse and produced her keys and handed them over to me.

"I'm sorry, I just can't be here right now," I say softly, regretting what I just said.

"We've all been waiting for you to blow up, I just wasn't expecting it to be pointed towards me," I could tell that Daphne was on the verge of tears.

"It's not pointed at you, love you," I rush out before making a hasty exit.

I drove on autopilot all the way to Graham's, my brain in a constant haze until I pulled up behind his truck and rushed to the front door where I knocked loudly.

Graham opens the door a few moments later; only I'm not staring at Graham but more of a shell of him. Messy hair to match his stain covered tee shirt, the scruff he normally sports is now a full on beard, his eyes are distant.

"What are you doing here?"

"The sub said you weren't at school all week either, I wanted to make sure you were okay," I say as I fidget with my fingers.

"I'm a grown man, Lennon; it was just a break up."

"Well you don't look fine, and it wasn't just a break up," I defend myself.

I push my way into the house and look around. It looked like there had been some sort of party, beer cans everywhere, random bags of chips spilled onto the counter and even the floor, ashtrays filled with cigarette butts.

"Well, you're definitely a grown man," I smart.

"Baby, who was at the door?" I whip my head to the stairs to find a leggy blonde wearing nothing but one of Graham's shirts.

I let out an airy laugh to prevent myself from crying. "Wow, you moved on fast. I must have meant a lot to you."

Graham rubs his closed eyes with his palms. "Hey Lauren, we're out of beer, want to run to the store for me?"

"No, I'll leave," I say once Lauren nods and rushed back up the stairs to get dressed.

"No," Graham blocks the exit and only moves when Lauren descends back down the stairs.

I watch as she reaches up to kiss Graham on the lips but he turned his head at the last moment and Lauren's lips met his furry cheek.

I waited until I heard the car that was parked on the street sped away before I could bring myself to look Graham in the eyes. I've been so miserable over the last week, adding to the list of people I love being taken away from me. But Graham has been partying and throwing care into the wind, hooking up with Lauren and God only knows who else.

"Lennon," Graham says desperately after a long, pregnant pause.

"I can't believe I actually thought that you loved me. I'm so dumb. I mean, how could you? I'm obviously psychotic!" I allow the tears to flow freely.

"You're psychotic for thinking that I don't love you."

"Then what is all this?" I raise my hands up to mention everything around me. "While I was having trouble getting out of bed, you were having the time of your life with that bimbo Lauren!"

"She's not a bimbo."

"She's a bimbo to me."

We take another moment, gathering our thoughts, as I wipe the tears from off my freckled cheeks.

"This was a bad idea. We're just going to pretend that none of this happened, ever. You and me, we don't exist. You're just my gym teacher that was once friends with my step brother. You don't know me and I don't know you." I make my way to the front door again but Graham's large body prevents me from leaving, again. "I'm serious Graham, let me leave."

"No, I won't," he whispers down at me.

"Move!" I shout, trying to push him out of my way but he grabs my wrists to hold me still. "Let go of me," I say with a less than steady voice.

"No, I won't," Graham repeats then crashes his lips into mine, still holding my wrists against his chest.

Panic immediately fills me, thinking that Bobby would somehow find out and Bobby would be fired and probably put into jail. But the longing for Graham's touch quickly takes over and I'm struggling out of his grasp only to pull him closer to me. I can only think about how right this feels and how wrong it is to be with Graham. It's not good to rely so heavily on a person, but Graham is my oxygen and I need him to survive.