MINI-EPISODE:

MANY UNHAPPY RETURNS

Hunched over her desk with a palm pressed against her cheek, the teenage girl was well into her detailed sketch of Sherlock when she suddenly felt a teacher's approaching presence. Emily grabbed several pages from her notebook and placed them strategically over her sketchbook just in time as her government teacher came and went. Once she was a safe distance away again, Emily pulled the drawing out again just enough to continue working and look like she was still taking notes on the boring White House documentary that was playing at the front of the classroom.

It was a Monday, and as if Mondays weren't draining enough, Mondays also meant winterguard practice after school. It wasn't that she entirely despised guard; Emily loved spending time goofing around with the people on her team, the sport kept her busy and in shape, and she liked using performances to show off all the neat tricks she'd learned with spinning flags, rifles and sabres. But even these aspects were overshadowed by the exhausting and time consuming practice schedule, during which the chance of self injury was at its highest. Yes, Emily loved guard, but the longer she spent doing it the more she grew to detest it.

That particular four hour Monday night practice wasn't any more enjoyable than the last. It was unbelievably long, and by the time her coaches finally released them, it was already well past their 9:00 end time and Emily was out of breath, sweating, and knew that in fewer than ten hours she would be back there doing the exact same thing.

Once home, Emily knew that her bedtime was in less than an hour, and as such hurried to take a shower and shovel down a late dinner as her mom and sister got into their pajamas and started getting ready for bed. She still had homework, of course, but was in the habit of doing as much as she could in other classes the very day it was assigned and whatever she didn't get around to was left until the next day, when she'd hurry to finish it up before it was due.

Emily glanced at the digital clock on her phone. She had less than a half hour before her mom would begin yelling at her to get to bed already. Still, she was determined to make use of the little amount of time she had left. Especially after she'd anxiously waited all day for it. Emily pulled her laptop out from underneath her living room couch and started it up.

Once the computer was up and running, a smile spread across Emily's face as she logged on to And Another Note's Tinychat, the website that she and her online friends used to have group chats together just about every spare minute that they had. But no sooner had she gotten to the page when her face suddenly fell, a look of dismay now upon it.

No one was online.

Swallowing, Emily stared at the time at the top right hand corner of her screen. 10:16 PM. No thanks to time zones, it would be two hours past then where Scottie was now. Already tomorrow. She wondered if he'd long since gone to bed or if she'd just missed him. Emily slowly closed her laptop with a sigh and slid it back into its place under the couch.

Scottie hated college. Better than high school at least, and it was nice to be away from his parents again, but in all honesty he wasn't much happier there. And who could blame him? After having spent the best two years of his life in an alternate universe London living with two beautiful males who technically speaking shouldn't actually exist, being back in nonfictional America was dull and frustrating.

However, the times when he wasn't pissed off at anything and everything around him were when he was online. The real world had begun to feel fake to him, but spending time with And Another Note, even if it wasn't in person, reminded him that he did still have people who loved and cared about him, and even though no one else would ever believe him, they knew he wasn't crazy after all. They were the proof that the time he'd spent away really did happen, and there was still a place that felt like home out there somewhere, even if he had no possible way of getting back to it.

It was snowing outside. Not the kind of light, fluffy snow that you saw in the movies. It was more of a wet, slushy downpour that made the campus pavement slippery and kept his loud LGBTQ housemates indoors. But he could think of at least one girl from sunny Southern California who would be utterly enthralled by it regardless, and that thought made the unpleasant temperature slightly more bearable - but only just.

Pulling his comforter up a bit, Scottie reached over and turned off his bedside lamp. Without thinking the boy instinctively called out "Goodnight Emily" to the darkness. Right away Scottie realized his error, but he waited for a moment for a response, just in case. None came. Instead a quiet hung in the air and he lifted his head to have a look over his shoulder.

He was, of course, still alone.

Scottie let out a soft sigh and rolled onto his side.