A/N: Second chapter. Still short. But, don't worry. Some will be and others will be longer. Enjoy!

"Marco Del Rossi, better luck next time." Mr. Roche handed me back my failing physics paper. My grades are starting to slip. This isn't the first one. And God, where has two weeks gone? Dylan will be here tomorrow.

It's still on me. I can't get it off. I'm not eating, I'm not sleeping, and I'm not studying. I take as many showers as I can. Hot water, cold water. I can't wait to see Dylan, but I don't want to see him at all. How will I explain to my boyfriend, who hasn't had sex in 8 months that I can't stand to be touched? How am I going to explain that I'm scared to be alone? That I can't sleep without the lights on? That I can't eat?

Walking home, I feel the eyes on me. I feel people looking at me. I think they know and they are eyeing me, disgusted. The logic has no base in reality, I keep telling myself. Still, I feel the holes in my back.

I like to walk. It's exercise and it gives me a chance to think. Before he left, I'd always go with Dylan. We'd hold hands and talk and not realize that we'd walked a mile, two, three. I smile to myself at this memory. I liked it better in high school. Things were so much simpler.

I don't even realize that I've walked the entire way home. I'm here, standing on my porch. No one else is though and I don't want to go inside. I hate this house. I do not want to live here but there is no other option.

"You want anything? I've got water." I say peering into the living room where he was.

"Nah, I'm fine." He says back and I walk in and sit down across from him.

"So, where should we start? I'm having a lot of trouble with chapter 8." I say opening my textbook and pointing to a page.

"Yeah, I thought it was pretty easy, but what don't you get?" He says standing and coming and sitting beside me. The close proximity is making me more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Just this." I say laying the book on the table and moving to sit in the other chair across from it.

I feel acid coming up my throat, how could I be so stupid?! I go into the kitchen and drink a glass of water quickly. I feel my stomach settle. The clock read 4:48 in blue numbers. Ellie will be here soon. I feel bad about keeping this secret from her. I love her more than anything, except Dylan. I feel like I am lying to her. I do not want her to think badly of me, though. I have been contemplating telling her, but I don't know how she'll react.

"Home!" I hear her keys drop to the counter "What's up, Marco?"

"Oh, um, nothing." I reply.

"Something wrong?" She asks. God, I so desperately want to tell you. To get this off my chest.

"Um, no. Nothing." No such luck.

"Okay? Well, if you decide there is, call me. I'm going out later and I won't be home early, hopefully." She smiles and runs up the stairs eagerly.

I pick up a book from her collection. The one she keeps all of her most valuable books in. I decide that I will close my eyes, pick a random one and occupy my mind.

I pull one, a blue cover with a picture of a bracelet on it. I start reading. It should be good if Ellie deemed it suitable to spend money on it.

"My name was Salmon, like the fish; first name, Susie. I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 1976…"

A/N:Figure out Ellie's book! I smell ironyyyy!