I stared down at my new schedule, dread forming in the pit of my stomach. I looked up as my teacher began to wander away, handing out the small, manila sheets of cardstock. I opened my mouth to try and say something, but nothing came out. Like usual.

Slowly, I returned my eyes to the small blue print that read my fate.

Sixth period: Student Aide.

My hands were shaking, I noticed. I wondered how long it would be until I accidentally let go.

I couldn't be a student aide. I couldn't. Not because I thought I couldn't do it – everyone told me it was an easy job – but because I knew I wouldn't be allowed to. I was surprised that my father hadn't figure out about what his failure of a son had done and teleported himself down to the school to yell at me.

The PA system crackled and the voice of one of the assistant principals announced, "All student report to your new first period. If you do not have a first period, or a hole elsewhere, please report to your counselor's office. All students report to your…"

I quickly looked over my schedule, praying for a missing number or class, any excuse to go to the counselors. Unfortunately, all my classes were in order.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to have Advanced Calculus sixth period – my counselor assured me that that was the only way my schedule was going to fit together.

I'll go check during lunch, I decided as Ms. Howard began to lecture (she didn't have any new students coming in, apparently) about the digestive system of the rat we'd dissected before our winter break.

"Excuse me," I asked, but my voice couldn't have been more than a whisper. I bit my lip and tugged at the scarred tissue that was there. The secretary behind the desk continued to tap at the keyboard. I cleared my throat politely and tired to speak louder, "Excuse me."

The lady looked up. "Yes?"

"I need to see my counselor."

"Do you have a hole in your schedule?" I fell silent and shook my head. "Then, I'm sorry, but you can't see her."

"But I really need to –"

"I'm sorry, but you can't see her."

"Oh… Ok." I turned around and began to wander back to my literature class. I'll try to talk to her at the end of the week, I guess.

It's been about a week since I got my schedule. My counselor has either been too busy with students with holes in their schedules or too busy being somewhere else. As I expected, my father yelled up a storm when he found out that I wasn't in the class I was supposed to be in, but every time he tried to set up an appointment with my counselor, she never showed up. Finally he gave up on her.

"Hopefully you can still get into a half-decent college even with this class."

That's what he said to me the other day when he hung up with the secretary. I don't think I'll ever forget it because it's true. I worked so damn hard to get into all good, college-prep classes and now, thanks to an elective error, I might not get in at all. They'll all look at my schedule and see that, though some fault of my own, I chose to do something completely unrelated to my major. They'll look at it and see that I can't even make up my own mind about what I want to be. They'll look at it and see that if something happens, I'll just end up flaking out on it.

This is starting to make me think that maybe I did choose it after all. I think I might have put it down as one of my last-resort electives, just because I had already taken all the other physics and math courses.

Great. Just great. Way to go, Joe, you just screwed yourself over for the rest of your life. How peachy.

I was on the ferry today. I'd had to get out of the house that was filled with my father's depression and my brothers' teasing. I couldn't stand knowing what I'd done to my father. He was all I had left now that mom moved out. I had to make him proud of me and now I've gone and disappointed him, once again. But anyway, I was on the ferry because I wanted to go visit Matt. He's my boyfriend. And I'm sure that another disappointment for my dad. Now I won't even be able to give him grandkids that might succeed more than I ever will.

Matt may be a disappointment to my dad, but he's never that to me. Whether he knows it or not, I owe him my life a hundred times over. And it's not just because of the digital world (though I do owe him a lot for that), but instead because without him I would be so lost. With him there I can just let go of any and all bad thoughts and feelings. As cliché as it sounds, I gave him my heart over two years ago and he's kept it safe and warm with his own love. Sometimes he does get rather moody and emo, but I love that about him – he's never trying to be too perfect for anyone. The world doesn't expect everything out of him like they do me.

I hadn't even noticed in my thoughts, but I'd been driving down the road for a little bit. I was already almost halfway to his house. That's what usually happens to me. I get so lost in thought, I don't even realize what I do anymore – I just do it. But I realized that I'd better start paying attention before I get into a wreck or something equally as bad.

And it's not too much longer before I reached his house. I pulled into the driveway in my usually spot and began to walk up the stairs to the porch. About a year or so ago, Matt and his dad finally moved out of their apartment and into a decent-sized house, much bigger and better than our one bathroom-two bedroom apartment that mean I had to shared my room and my stuff with my brothers. They had a key under the front mat, a typical hiding place I had been shown a few months ago so that I didn't have to bother waking anybody up when I came over without warning.

But the door was unlocked anyway and that, combined with the fact that only my car was in front of the house, revealed that Matt's dad had left and that my boyfriend and I had to house all to ourselves. I knew that Matt knew I was here because the door was loud when I opened and there was the yowling of a big orange cat as it rushed past me. Matt's cat had never liked me, no matter how much I tried to appease it. Plus it irritated my allergies and made my nose leak.

I began to wander down the hall, making as much noise with my feet as I could so that I didn't scare Matt half-to-death. Even though he knew I was here. I need to stop thinking. I'm already depressed about my schedule and I don't need Matt to know that. He has enough to take care of right now.

I open his door and look inside, smiling when I see him playing one of his video games. He so intent on the battle he was currently in, I wasn't sure if he noticed I was there or not, but he paused it suddenly and looked over at me with a grin.

"Hey, Joe. I haven't seen you in a while."

I grinned and hoped he didn't look too closely at me. I didn't want him to see that I was depressed over my schedule – I didn't want to trouble him over some stupid little mistake I made. "It's my first day off since the semester started back up."

"Oh yeah, your high school starts a week before mine." He tossed his controller on the bed and stood up. I almost couldn't wait for him, so I moved forward and grabbed him in a hug. Now that I could smell his scent and feel his warmth, I didn't feel so bad. Whatever bad feelings I'd had before just vanished and I relaxed for the first time in about a week. "Hey, Joe, are you ok?"

I smiled again, this time not to cover anything up, but to show my true self. "I'm fine." I kissed him on the cheek to make him blush like he usually does and plop onto the bed. "You're playing this game again? How many times have you beaten it?"

Matt laughs as he accepts my answer. He begins to tell me all about the game and I listen happily even though I've already heard this same speech time and time again. It was just wonderful to be able to be with Matt and really, truly? I don't feel like a screw-up whenever I'm with him. All my bad thoughts are gone, and I'm truly happy.

END

This was just something I needed to get off my mind before I went to sleep last night. And since I have the same thought-patterns as Joe (aka I can do nothing but worry and complain about everything), I figured I'd just go ahead and do it from his POV.

Katamon: I thought we were dead to you. I wished it with all my might.

Angel: Apparently you weren't mighty enough! Wahaha! -cough- Ahem. Well, I don't own anything, so till next time!