Her hands are ice-cold, but her grip is firm.
And Erica knows that the simple gesture of twitching her hand, or moving at all, will cause her mother to start worrying.
Start the entire argument again.
"It's too early for you to be back."
Erica closes her eyes and purses her lips and prays that her mother simply drops her off and doesn't say anything. Because she doesn't want to hear it.
She wants to be a normal kid, going to school and hanging out with her friends. Not that she's ever had any.
But she knows that her chances of that are even slimmer now. She knows what's ahead of her. And she doesn't need her mother telling her that she shouldn't be doing this. That going back after only two weeks isn't right.
"Erica…"
"Mom, don't." She says it through gritted teeth, and it comes out harsher than she wants, but she needs to get her point across. She already feels nervous enough.
"Erica, please…call me if anything, anything AT ALL happens. Please, sweetie?" Her mother's voice cracks from emotion and Erica simply nods, not trusting herself to speak, because she's sure she'll ask her mother to turn the car around and head back home.
"You have your mobile right?" She whispers. Erica nods again, even though it's a lie. She threw her phone against a wall and smashed it with a hammer as soon as she found the video of her spreading across the school website and youtube.
She never wants to see a mobile phone again.
They pull up the front of Beacon Hills High, and at this point, her heart is racing way too fast to function properly.
"Erica?"
"I'll see you later." She gets out without a backward glance, and her mother calls her back, but she doesn't listen. She shoulders her bag and practically runs inside the building as people turn to catch a fleeting glimpse of the girl who wet herself in class.
She heads straight for the toilets and locks herself in a cubicle. She's pretty sure she's having a panic attack, so she does her best to breathe. To stop her shaking hands by clasping them tightly. Girls walk in and out, but Erica doesn't move.
She's not ready.
Why does she do this to herself?
The bell rings, but she stays put. Until the noise from the hallway outside dies down and all she can hear is the drip of the tap that someone didn't close properly. She reaches for the lock with shaking hands and steps out of her safe haven.
She looks at herself in the mirror. Pale skin, sunken eyes with dark circles around them from lack of sleep. Acne all over her face, scabs on her lips from the amount of times she'd bitten down on them. Hair unkempt and messy…
This is all she'll ever be.
She reaches into her bag to pull out the pills she's meant to take.
Her eyes scan over the label. Her name on this medication.
Erica Reyes.
She hates Erica Reyes.
She uncaps the bottle and pours the contents into the sink, watching as the white pills go down the drain slowly.
She's going to be normal. No medication, no sickness.
Normal.
She holds her head high and walks out, and realizes that she's late to class, which means everyone is going to look at her when she walks in.
The thought alone has her running back into the girls bathroom and hiding in her cubicle again.
She stays there for the rest of the period, picking at her nails so much, they start bleeding. The bell rings and she steps out quickly, making a beeline for her locker. She hears snickers as she passes, and it makes her run faster. She opens her locker as fast as she can and grabs her Ipod from her bag, shoving her headphones in.
It's like blissful heaven the second the music blocks out everything around her.
She doesn't hear the snickers anymore. Doesn't hear the catcalling that's starting to build up. She presses her forehead against the cool metal of her locker and does her best to breathe.
She turns around to find a group of the popular kids passing her, Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin of course, leading the front. They don't pay attention to her, both of them too busy sucking each other's faces off, but Jackson's friends are behind him, and they're laughing her face, pointing at her.
The only one that smiles sincerely at her is Danny, who stops and actually walks up to her. She removes an earphone cautiously, her heart racing.
This might be a trick.
"It's good to have you back, Erica. I'm glad you're okay."
"Yeah, nice to have you back, bed-wetter!" Someone from his group shouts out. Everyone laughs loudly, and Danny looks at them angrily.
When he turns around, Erica is gone.
She stays in her cubicle for the rest of the day. Even when some of the girls remark that the cubicle she's in has been closed all day, even when they start banging and yell at her to get out, she doesn't.
Eventually, the principal is brought in.
"Hello?" She recognizes his voice immediately, of course. She's heard it so many times in the last month since the incident happened.
"Come on, get out. I have no patience for this!" He doesn't sound so happy. She takes a deep breath and unlocks the door.
His expression softens when he sees who it is.
"Erica…" She doesn't look at him and he sighs.
"Who?"
"Everyone." She whispers. He shakes his head and rests a hand on her shoulder.
"Having an epileptic fit in class isn't your fault, Erica."
"Letting someone record me and put it online is." She mumbles.
"I took the video down-"
"It found its way back up. It always does." And without another word, she leaves, walking out of the doors and into the empty hallway.
"Excuse me?" She tries to keep walking, but the girl runs up to her, face red and out of breath.
"Hi, I'm kind of new here, and I'm looking for Room 56? I have a class there." She seems sweet enough. Long black hair, nice brown eyes.
This school will destroy her. Just like it destroyed me.
"What's your name?" Erica asks.
"Allison. Allison Argent." She smiles, perfect white teeth flashing.
"Word of advice, Allison? Leave while you can. This place is Hell on Earth." Allison's face falls, her smile replaced with a frown as Erica walks away.
"And by the way, Room 56 is just around the corner, up the flight of stairs and to your left." She calls out.