Chapter 1: 101.6

I quickly looked up from my paper to glance at the clock. Five more minutes? I continued to rush, trying to answer as many questions as possible. I looked up once more to see that most of the kids in my class had already finished... including Lisa. I felt my face turning red as beads of sweat ran down my face. I have to finish!

Suddenly I heard the teacher shout, "Pencils down!" I quickly wrote down my last answer, mostly guessing on it and hoping it would be right. I knew I should have studied more for this test… I didn't understand half the questions in that packet. I quickly got up and jogged to the front of the classroom, turning in the assessment to my math teacher, Ms. Harris. I watched her face while she looked through the first page. Crap! I can't seem to read her. Did I do okay? As I started to walk to my seat Lisa grabbed my arm.

"How do you think you did?" she questioned with a sweet smile on her face.

"Um… I-I'm not sure…" I started to get anxious, thinking about the test. I could feel my palms start to get sweaty as my legs began to feel weak, getting dizzier by the second.

"Hey, Vanessa. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" the corners of my vision started to darken, I leaned on the back of Lisa's chair for support.

"You're sweating like a pig." You could see the concern grow, on her face, as I hesitated to answer.

"Oh, um… hehe. Yeah I probably shouldn't have worn this sweater today."

"Okay, if you say so," Lisa chuckled a bit, a remnant of concern in her voice. I walked back to my seat, my head hanging low hoping that no one could see how red I was. Right before I sat down everything in the room started to spin. I fell over, completely missing my chair. I heard a collection of gasps scatter throughout the room. Then, everything went black.

...

My mom came into my room with a thermometer and a cup of hot tea. She set down the cup of tea on my bedside table. She then sat on the side of my bed and put the thermometer in my mouth while she put the back of her other hand against my forehead. The corners of her mouth turned downwards forming a frown in response to the heat she felt radiating off my face. Once the thermometer beeped she took it out of my mouth and looked at it.

"101.6," She looked at me with a worried face. "I'm so sorry, mamita. How are you feeling?"

"A bit queasy and I have a headache. But I'm doing fine," I gave her a reassuring smile, but she still looked at me with concern. All of a sudden my phone started to ring. I picked it up and saw that Lisa was trying to reach me.

"Don't worry, mamita. I'll give you some privacy." My mom stood up, gave me a peck on the forehead and then left the room. As soon as she closed the door, I set down my tea and answered Lisa's call.

"Hello?" I tried to sound as healthy as possible, failing.

"Gosh Vanessa, you sound horrible!" She yelled into the phone.

"Ah! Lisa, I've got a horrible headache."

"Oh! I'm so sorry," I could hear her mumbling to herself in disappointment.

"Don't worry about it, Lisa," I tried to hold back a laugh while responding.

"Okay." There was a little pause before she continued to speak. "Are you coming to school tomorrow?"

"I don't think so. I mean- I have a temperature of 101.6 right now. So, probably not," I tried to sound as casual as possible; not to worry her.

"Oh my, Vanessa. I'm so sorry. Are you feeling okay? Have you thrown up? If you want, I can come over. Maybe check up on you, or-"

"Lisa, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," I said, interrupting her. She always worries way too much.

"Fine. But if you need anything, whatsoever, just shoot me a text."

"Thanks, Lisa."

"Anytime, Vanessa." I hung up the phone and set it beside me. I turned and grabbed the clock on my bedside table to check the time. Oh crap, it's 4:15 pm. Don't I have a therapy session in 30 minutes? I grabbed my phone again and texted my mom.

"Hi, mom. Don't I have a therapy session at 4:45?"

"Yes, but you don't have to go if you are not feeling well."

"Hmm… I think I'm gonna go. I've been stuck in this house all day, maybe going outside will help me feel better."

"Good idea, mamita. Go take a shower while I go pick up a quick snack from Starbucks. You've barely eaten today."

"Okay, thanks mom."
"No problem. What would you like from Starbucks?"

"Just get me a sandwich, please."

"Okay. Love you!"

"Love you too!" I set down my phone and cautiously got up, trying not to barf. I walked to the bathroom, bringing my phone and a towel. I put some music on and turned on the shower. I took a 10 minute shower listening to my favorite songs and then got dressed, feeling better than earlier today. I put on some sweats and a t-shirt and looked into the mirror before leaving my room. I wasn't exactly the prettiest girl in school, well, in my opinion. I have very short, wavy-ish, brown hair that only went up to my jaw. I have freckles that run across my nose and cheeks. And I have hazel eyes, very dark navy blue rims encircling an emerald green that fades into a light brown, in the center of my iris. Sometimes the brown section can look a bit red in the sunlight, but not right now. I exited my room, walked downstairs and was greeted by the sound of my mom flinging the door open. A screech escaped my mouth, the sudden sound scaring the life out of me.

"Oh- hi, mom." I gave her a hug as I laughed off the scare.

"Hello, Vanessa," my mom handed me a bag, inside was a bacon and egg breakfast sandwich.

"Thank you for the sandwich," I said as I took it out from the bag.

"You're welcome," She put the back of her hand against my forehead again. Her face looked a bit confused. "How are you feeling, right now?"

"I'm not feeling very queasy any more and my headache went away. So, I'm doing pretty okay."

"Okay. Let me take your temperature once more before we start to head out." She went into our medicine cabinet and took out the thermometer. I put down my sandwich and put the thermometer under my tongue. I took it out once and it beeped like before, and I read the temperature.

"Hmm, 99.8. My temperature went down," I looked at the time. "Um... mom, we should probably go soon. It's already 4:30."

"Yes we should," she replied as she grabbed the thermometer from my hand. She quickly washed it and put it back. She then straightened her shirt out and looked back to me. "Don't forget your sandwich."

"Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me," I picked up my sandwich and noticed that my mom was still looking at me, tears forming in her eyes.

"Are you okay, Mom?"

She quickly composed herself and replied, "Yes, sweety. I just can't believe you are going to turn fifteen in a couple weeks. And then your sister, Maria is already 17. I'm so old!" We both laughed.

"Yeah, it is pretty crazy," I totally forgot about Maria. She's always out of the house hanging out at her boyfriend's house. Sometimes I wonder if she ever misses us.

"Anyways, let's start heading out."

"Okay."

We arrived at my therapist's office right on time. My mom and I walked into the waiting room and sat down. After about three minutes later Mr. Fields (I call him by his first name) walked into the room. "Hello, Vanessa," He said with a bright smile on his face.

"Hello, Devan," I stood up and followed him into his office. I sat down on a couch facing a wall of paintings. Mr. Fields walked to his sofa chair and sat down, his curly hair bouncing as he hit the chair. Devan's hair is probably longer than mine. Today he styled it lazily, letting it form into a messy afro. Usually he pulled it back into a ponytail, maybe he had a rough day.

Devan reached to for his clipboard and placed it onto his lap. "I haven't seen you in a little while. How have you been?" I've been skipping therapy lately, mostly because I've been having a tough time settling into high school.

"I've been pretty good. Although, I did faint during math class today," Devan's jaw dropped instantly.

"Oh my god! What happened?" I thought back to what had happened during math.

"Well, I was rushing to finish my test and saw that most of the kids in my class had already finished, along with my friend Lisa, which made me really nervous. So I was writing as fast as possible until the teacher told us to stop. Thankfully, I was able to finish my entire test by the time the teacher stopped us but I guessed on most of the packet. So I went up to the front of my class to turn it in and when I went to return to my seat I kinda just passed out. I guess I couldn't handle all of the anxiety and stress, plus I was actually really sick." I looked up at Devan and saw he was writing things on his clipboard. I wonder what he is writing down? I sat on the couch silently waiting for him to finish his notes.

"Sorry, I just needed to write down a little reminder."

"Do you mind me asking what it is?"

"I just need to talk to your parents about the incident, if you are okay with it?"

"No, of course. Although, my mom already knows about it."

"I know, but they need to help you take better care of yourself."

"I can take care of myself just fine. Like, this week, I've been going to bed a lot earlier than usual." I puffed out my chest, proud of myself.

"What time?" His eyes narrowed as he spoke.

"Ten…" I instantly sank back into the couch.

"Exactly," he retorted. "And this is why you get sick so often."

"I don't get sick that often," I said defensively.

"Maybe you don't get sick super often, but definitely more than a person your age should."

"Fine."

"Anyways, how has school been besides today?"

"Um.. It's been okay."

"How are your grades?"

"Well, I have an A in most of my classes!"

"Except…" Devan leaned closer waiting for an answer.

"Except math."

"And why is that?" Devan replied.

"It's because I'm dumb."

"You are not dumb, Vanessa. You are in advanced math."

"But I suck at it. I have a B- in that class right now."

"That's not that bad."

"Yeah, but now that I basically bombed today's test, who knows what grade I'll have by the end of the week."
"Don't worry, you still have 'till the end of the semester to raise your grade. Just get more sleep and stop procrastinating."

"Okay."

Devan looked at the clock, "I'm afraid times up."

"Wait, is there any chance I can ask you one more thing?" Devan looked at the clock worried about the time.

"Okay, one more question."

"Thank you!"

"So, what is it?"

"Um… well… I've known about my sexuality for a while - and you know that, but I was wondering whether I should tell my parents about it."

"I think you should do it when you are ready."

"Well I know that but… do you think they'll hate me afterwards?"

"Of course not! I know your parents very well and I can confidently tell you that they are very okay with the LGBTQ+ community."

"Okay, thank you, again, for the advice."

"It's my job," He flashed me another one of his bright smiles and guided me back to the waiting room where my mom was waiting for me on her phone. She stood up and waved to Devan and then walked me to the car.

"So sweetie, how was your session?" She said as we got into the car.

"It was pretty great," I replied as I shut the door.

"Well that's good," She started the car.

"I'm bisexual," the words just rushed out of my mouth without thought. Suddenly my stomach twisted. I felt the guilt within me grow as if I just confessed to a crime. I looked to see her expression. She opened her mouth as if to speak but quickly closed it. She turned to me. Her face was expressionless, it was horrifying.

She finally said something, "How do you know?" The words rang in my ears. My stomach continued to turn with a feeling of guilt. A lump forming in my throat and my eyes stinging. What does she mean 'How do you know?' It's because I love men and women! I knew that probably wouldn't convince her so I gave her another response that was also true.

Trying to stay calm, I answered her question. "I don't care about the gender of the person, I fall in love with their minds."

She thought for a little bit and then responded, "Oh okay, that's good. I'm proud of you, mamita." She gave me a high five and then started to drive back home. The entire car ride I was silent, looking out the window. I couldn't speak to her, I don't care if I was overreacting to her response, it's just not what I wanted.