FYI: Once I started writing this and the next chapter, I realized an M rating wasn't really necessary. Sorry for the fakeout. Be aware that it may change at any point, though I think I can stay T-appropriate. That being said, there are some drug and alcohol use/references in the chapters to come; refer to the warnings at the beginning of the story.

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"Miranda! Miranda Sanchez! Don't pretend like you don't hear me! You're going to be late for school!"

Fuck. School. I thought, laying in bed with my paisley comforter over my head. My body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds when I woke up that Monday morning. I couldn't fathom moving it. It's hard to describe that kind of heaviness; it was more than just tired. It was like… tired of life. The energy for something so monumental as getting out of bed seemed lightyears beyond me.

Now she was pounding on the door. "Ay dios mio! Did you hear that? That's your bus, Miranda, you've missed the bus. Have you even gotten out of bed yet?"

I rolled to my other side and took in a deep breath. At least I had missed the bus. The thought of having to face them, being crammed into that loud, tiny space and confront the mad awkward of my crumbling friendships, made my stomach feel like pudding. Just thinking about seeing Gordo's face made me feel dizzy, made my breaths get short and shallow. Horrifying.

I reluctantly crawled out from beneath my covers and began digging through my drawers. I didn't even bother to look in a mirror; if I looked anything like I felt, there was no reason to witness that kind of tragic mess.

Look at all these freaking clothes, I thought. Who cares? Who really cares? Black t-shirt, yesterday's jeans. As much eye make-up as it takes to cover the tired.

The ride to school in my mom's car proved to be almost as nerve-racking and unsettling as the school bus might have been. She glanced at me and frowned at every stoplight, her lips pursed to pour out her disapproval. She generally clicked her tongue and sighed rather than speak, and the silence was poisonous. I sank as low as I could in the passenger's seat, crushed under the weight of her eyes. Watching me. Watching me. What was she looking for? It made me nervous and paranoid in a way that was too much to stomach.

I bolted out of the car when she dropped me off, saying nothing. The first bell had already rung, which was something of a relief. I could slink to class without having to talk to or even look at anyone. I went straight to Mr. Casey's classroom to ensure that I snagged my favorite seat in the far corner of the back row.

Tuning out Physical Science lectures had become such a habit to me that I occasionally forgot I was even taking this class. When I took the pop quiz that was handed back to me, I realized with mild surprise that it wasn't only that I didn't know the answers, but even the questions were foreign to me. What the hell was an ion? I had no memory of ever hearing the word.

Class dragged on with its usual sluggishness, and I found myself staring desperately at the chipping paint on the classroom walls. This science mumbo jumbo was hard enough to follow as it was, and the further I slipped behind, the more of a burden it was to try and zone back in. I had a momentary flashback of Mr. Pettus's seventh grade science class, and how I hadn't even noticed how boring science was back then. I spent most of the class just goofing off with Lizzie and Gordo. The memory made my heart feel heavy. My stomach churned.

I felt it again, the heaviness. It didn't seem worth it anymore to lament over my fading memories of Lizzie and Gordo. I kind of just wanted to not exist. I folded my arms into a warm cradle on the desk in front of me and buried my face in it. It took no time at all to slip into the comforting haven of sleep, the world around me blackening.

I was startled awake again at the end of the period and Mr. Casey's gangly face hovered menacingly close to me. The shock of waking up so abruptly left my heart pounding. I had no idea what was happening, I only heard the chorus of laughter from my classmates, drowned out moments later by the ringing of the bell. Everyone else emptied out of the room as I stayed dumbstruck in my seat. I could only imagine that Mr. Casey had made some kind of crack about me falling asleep.

"I'm going to need your parents to sign this, Miss Sanchez," Mr. Casey told me in a bored tone, shoving my most recent science exam into my hands. It was completely massacred, covered in red ink wounds. "Midterm grades are coming out next week. You're failing." He left me abruptly, before I had really registered a single thing, and I was left clutching my failed science test in a sleepy haze.

That's when it first happened, my first episode. I squinted to look at the huge 29 emblazoned underneath my name on the test, but it was blurry. I looked around; everything was blurry. The walls were spinning. My heart was still racing. The classroom was empty except for me and Mr. Casey, but I could still hear the laughter of my classmates, like it was playing through a loudspeaker. Underwater. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. Was I hallucinating?

I felt all at once like I couldn't stand to be inside my own skin, like I was going to puke up a gallon of lard, like the ground was crumbling beneath my feet. I found that I couldn't move out of my seat. I started breathing deep and heavy, closing my eyes tight and yelling at myself inside my head.

Get up, Miranda. Just stand up. Get out of your seat. People are starting to show up for second period. They're all staring at you. You're being a total dirk. Just get out of your seat.

The weight was unreal. I wanted to scream. What was happening to me? Why did everyone have to laugh at me? Why did Mr. Casey have to be so effing mean? Why did I feel like the walls were melting? Why was I too terrified to even move?

In one concentrated jolt of strength, I yanked myself out of my seat and ran out of the room as fast as I could. The fear pounding in my chest only grew tenfold as I darted into the hallways. Everyone was watching me. Hundreds of high school eyes, endless echoes of judgment, crushing me. The voices were so loud. I could barely see where I was going, the halls were spinning so fast. I kept running until I reached the girls bathroom, the only safe place one could count on in the high school world.

I dove into the first stall that I saw, trying to block out the shocked girls at the sinks who turned to stare at me as I came barreling through the bathroom. Stop watching me, stop watching me, I pleaded inwardly. I felt like everyone in the entire school knew that I was freaking out, and my stomach was doing somersaults under the pressure.

I sat on the toilet and buried my hands in my face, which I noticed was covered in sweat. What was wrong with me? I could practically hear my heart racing, my pulse pounding in my skull. Was I having a nervous breakdown? Heart attack? Spinal meningitis? My mind grasped desperately for answers. My body was in emergency mode; I wanted to throw up almost as much as I wanted to scream. Something was wrong with me, I could feel it. What if I was dying? Was I dying? I felt certain the world might disappear at any moment.

Had aliens invaded my body? Had someone slipped me drugs? Had I really slipped into an alternate universe, as I had been joking bitterly to myself for weeks? Why did everything feel so… weird? So terrifying?

Somewhere deep down, underneath the hot dizzy screaming paranoia, I knew that all of these thoughts were completely irrational. I knew I wasn't dying. I knew there was no logical reason for anything to be wrong with my body. And yet I couldn't make the feeling of panic go away. I was trapped.

The door swung open, and I was so on edge that I screamed in terror and lost my balance, sliding half-way off the unsteady toilet seat and using the wall to catch myself. I looked up to see Parker, astounded and staring.

"Whoa, are you okay?" she said, just as the tardy bell was ringing. I knew I was supposed to be in class, but I was paralyzed. My next class seemed miles away, through an ocean of fear I couldn't face.

I didn't know what to tell Parker. "I'm wiggin' out," I whispered, sitting up and wrapping my arms around myself. My voice sounded surreal and far away from my body.

Parker snorted callously, but placed her hand gently on my shoulder all the same. "No kidding. I saw you running through the hall all dramatic-after-school-special-style."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know what's wrong I just… I feel like I'm going crazy. It came out of nowhere. Everyone keeps staring at me…" I was choking on words, so swollen with fear that I could barely even find my voice. I grabbed Parker's hand from my shoulder and placed it on my chest. "Feel my heart. Why is it going nuts like that?"

Parker touched my sweating face. "You're just spooked, lady. You're probably having a panic attack. It's okay. It'll pass."

I braided my fingers together to keep them from shaking. I couldn't shrug off the sensation that every part of me was about to explode. "It doesn't feel like it."

She smiled sympathetically, and the rarity of such a thing was enough to comfort me. She looked around the walls of the bathroom and wrinkled her nose. "Well, staying cooped up in this shithole certainly won't help." She whipped her cell phone out of her bookbag, tackling the situation as if it were no more complicated than a paper cut. "I think I can find us a ride. You need a mental health day." Her calmness was comforting. It reminded me that this wasn't, in fact, the end of existence as I knew it… even though it felt like it.

It was just after nine in the morning, and I was amazed that it took no more than thirty seconds for Parker to find someone to pick us up from school. I was mildly horrified by the idea of just waltzing off campus, and as we casually slipped out through the back entrance of the Science Wing, my heart was racing the entire time. But the only alternatives were hiding in the bathroom all day, which wasn't so glamorous, or going back to class, which was completely out of the question. Once we were out of the building, the crisp breeze of early October met my face, and I already started feeling better.

It only took a few minutes for our ride to show up, a clunky mesh of gray and periwinkle metal that was pulsing with classic rock music. Parker got into the front seat and I crawled into the back of the unknown vehicle, shoving articles of clothing and piles of Red Bull cans out of the way to make room. I wondered what kind of person Parker knew that would answer a favor like this. The rumors I'd often heard bouncing off the metal interior of the school bus painted a portrait of Parker as a shameless seductress, crawling into the laps of older men to get what she wanted. I had never heard Parker mention any older boyfriends, but I still expected, as a matter of course, to see a grizzly forty-something-year-old man with chest hair and a Rolex behind the wheel. Probably named Ted.

The face that actually greeted me from the driver's seat was quite the opposite. Her bleach-blonde hair was woven into braided pigtails and her face was friendly, though bedecked with piercings. She couldn't have been older than seventeen. "Dipping out before second period?" she asked us, raising her thick brown eyebrows and eying us jokingly. There was something familiar about her. Or at least about her eyebrows. "It's only Freshman year, Parks. If you're already this sick of school you'll never make it to senior year… you'll end up just like me."

Never make it to senior year? The words formed a momentary lump in my throat as the driver pressed her foot to the gas pedal and sped away. My parents would totally kill me. And yet, the further away we got, the more fearless I felt. Hillridge High School, which suffocated me daily with its hugeness, became merely a pile of bricks that got smaller and smaller every second that we drove.