PHIL

I was already late for class. My footsteps echoing through the empty hallway felt heavier than usual. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried not to vomit when the bile slid back down my throat. I didn't understand why I was so anxious –I was angry more than anything, but maybe anger was just such a strange and unfamiliar feeling to me that I couldn't help feeling sick over it. I already spent most of the weekend dreading my chemistry class, and it was only Monday, so I still had a whole week before I could take a little breather. Today was the midterm, so I could hope that Andrew wouldn't bother me too much, in favor of letting me take my exam in peace and leave before he got the chance to talk to me.

I peeked through the panel of clear plastic on the door to the lab; Andrew was in his assigned seat, next to mine. I wished I could switch lab partners. Maybe if Andrew had done something really horrible, and something I was comfortable telling the teacher about, I'd be allowed a new partner. But the situation didn't have quite enough grounds for a change, and I didn't feel like talking about it, either. I'd have to just suck it up and deal with him the rest of the year –just a few more months to go, now.

I slipped in, not unnoticed by Mr. Kent but not reprimanded for my tardiness. I timidly approached his desk, and he silently handed me and exam. I nodded a thanks and scurried to my seat. I wanted to start as quickly as possible, so I could in turn finish as quickly as possible.

"Psst!" About five minutes into my exam, Andrew was trying to get my attention. I glared down at my test paper and tried to ignore him. "Psst!"

"What do you want?" I hissed back. We were sat far in the back of the room; Mr. Kent couldn't hear us and our classmates were too wrapped up in trying not to fail to care about what was going on behind them.

"I just hope you're not still mad at me. You wouldn't answer my calls or reply to my texts…"

He sounded genuinely remorseful, but now was not the time to just let him off. "We'll talk later," I groaned, just loudly enough for him to hear. He accepted my response and went back to his own work, and I could get back to mine.

The exam wasn't difficult, not any more so than any other test we'd taken so far. At least, not for me, but unlike a lot of my peers, I actually studied; maybe not as much over the weekend as I would've liked to, but enough to have confidence in my score. I gathered my stuff up again and walked to the front of the room with my test, handed it to the teacher, and left.

I headed straight to the library. Mrs. Bessle trusted me enough to not ask where I'd come from; I signed myself in and sat down to read a bit.

I only got through a couple of pages before someone sat down next to me. I looked up to see who it was and found PJ staring at me, looking as if he had something exciting and important to say. I smirked and shut my book so he could have my attention.

"Your birthday's coming up."

"Oh wow, I almost forgot."

"But you should have a party!" He knew how I felt about parties, especially after Friday night, so he was quick to clarify. "I mean, like, a small social gathering, at your place."

"My place?"

"Or mine?" he suggested, shrugging. "My parents are out of town this weekend and this weekend only, so if you don't wanna run the risk of things getting out of hand at your house, we'll have to do it this weekend. I'll get everything set –I don't know what to get you, so consider that the present."

I scoffed. "Okay."

"So that's a…?"

"That's a yes," I laughed. "Go on, plan your 'small social gathering.'"

"In your honor." He picked up his things and left, leaving me in the quiet of the otherwise empty library.


I always had the first few hours after school alone to myself and my thoughts. The first hour or so was spent with my nose buried in my economics textbook, studying for that midterm tomorrow. I had pretty much everything down pat, and I wasn't expecting anything too difficult when the first half of the year had been a cakewalk. I listened to a little bit of music and watched a little bit of TV and ended up just lying in bed by four-thirty. I'd been feeling sort of blech ever since I woke up Saturday afternoon, probably from nerves and pent up emotions. I just couldn't seem to relax, even with a nearly clear head, lying down and doing nothing.

My phone rang. This wasn't the first time Andrew had called me since I got home, but it was the first time I had no outside excuse not to answer him. I'd told him we'd talk today; there wasn't much chance to put it off any longer. I sucked in a breath and answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me, Andrew."

"I know, you're listed as 'Asshat' in my contacts."

"I-… Listen, I'm sorry about what happened on Friday. Like, really, really sorry. I just want you and I to go back to how things were before…"

"Well, you tried that on Friday, but your method was such a miserable and heinous failure that I've been trying to block those times from my memory ever since. Thank you for pouring salt on the wound, though."

"I heard you were having a party on—"

"You're not invited."

"I didn't think so…"

"Goodbye, Andrew."

I didn't give him a chance to say anything else, make any more pleas for forgiveness. I needed him out of my life.

I heard some commotion coming from across the street and peeked out my window. There was a moving van –I hadn't even known the house next door was for sale. There were a middle-aged man and woman unloading boxes, and an unfamiliar boy riding his bike in circles in the street. There was one more figure, though; a tall, lanky boy with dark hair, sitting on the hood of the car parked in the driveway, a cigarette hanging from between his lips.

Curious and needing to get my mind off a certain dickweed, I decided it might be polite to go over and welcome them to the neighborhood.