My social worker-cum-counsellor was a woman named Jade, who had been more than friendly and accommodating during our orientation meetings last week. Despite knowing my circumstances and my attitude and the allegations which led to my expulsion, she had been nothing but nice to me, smiling and offering me strips of red liquorice from the jar on her desk. My necklace – my neck felt bare at the thought of it and its more than noticeable absence – had never changed its colour in Jade's presence; it remained a steady, soothing grey. But when Alex pulled into the carpark and we approached Isla Huesos High, I did not feel soothed.

The school was enormous, with four immense wings connected by a central paved courtyard – the Quad, Jade said it was called – which was filled with shaded picnic tables for students to sit, chat and eat during breaks. Apparently, seniors such as I were allowed to leave campus for lunch, but the State of Connecticut – along with my neurologist – had deemed me unfit to procure a driver's licence, and I had no car besides. Alex took me to the administration building where they gave me a pink slip with my class schedule printed across it, and then Alex showed me the room for my first class. This, like all my other classes, was located in D-Wing. Conveniently, D-Wing was also where the New Pathways offices were.

I had a pretty good feeling that the proximity of my classes and the offices was intentional, but it wasn't surprising nor did it bother me. I'd overheard Mum say a long while back that the only way that Isla Huesos High School would accept me after hearing the allegations made by Westport Academy against me, was to enrol me via New Pathways. So, of course they were keeping a close eye on me. And considering what everyone thought I had done to that teacher; I didn't blame them. I thanked Alex, and he wished me luck and told me to meet him in the Quad for lunch. Then he left for his class, and I was on my own. I took a bracing breath and stepped into the classroom.

It all went rather well, considering. People sent curious looks my way, and I heard them talking about me, but I tried to pay it no mind. I was the new kid, and they were curious. I just kept my head down and tried to settle in. When lunchtime came, I couldn't find Alex anywhere. He hadn't told me where to meet him and I hadn't asked. We were both idiots. Overwhelmed by the crowds around me, too awkward to ask to sit at a table, and too embarrassed to go sit by myself in a corner, I instead scuttled to the vending machines and bought a few rather unhealthy options which I then smuggled into the library. There, at a small desk with a plush chair, at the back beyond the tall and heavy shelves, I set myself up, putting in my earbuds and then ate my lunch. This was normal, this was comfortable.

It was there that Jade found me.

"Pierce," she greeted with a friendly smile, pulling up a similar plush chair from nearby and settling down at the desk across from me. "I've been looking for you."

"I'm here," I said, stupidly, and immediately flushed with embarrassment as I quickly pulled out my earbuds. "How's it going?"

Pushing a strand of black hair from her face, the black leather cords wrapped stylishly around her wrists slipped up her arm, where a tattoo read Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself in fancy cursive script. Jade was friendly and intuitive and sometimes I felt like she knew more about me than I knew about myself. Though her style seemed to be dark and edgy, her light and laid-back personality appeared quite a contrast.

"Good," Jade nodded, the movement shifting the black cord wound about her neck. "How's it going with you? Didn't make it to the Quad for lunch, I see."

"Not today," I told her, averting my eyes. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Hey," she said, eyes gentle and understanding, "Listen, I get it. It's cool."

I shifted in my seat, feeling both awkward and relieved at her easy acceptance of my asocial decision. That relief vanished in the next moment when she went on,

"But if you want to talk, maybe about the thing that happened with that teacher at your old school, or about your friend who died… anything. You know where to find me."

I smiled tightly. Anything, huh? I wondered what she would say if I told her about him. About our fight in the cemetery. About his part to play in 'the thing that happened with that teacher' and by extension, my 'friend who died'. Would she tell me what all the other professionals had? That he wasn't real? I might not have had my necklace anymore – my neck still felt bare, I don't think I'd ever get used to not having its comforting weight and warmth about my neck – but I knew for absolute certain that he was, and that what happened between him and I in the time following my death, did definitely happen. I may have died and come back, but I wasn't crazy. But I didn't mention any of this to Jade, and I never would.

"Thanks," I said. "Will do."

Jade gave a frown-smile. "Hey," she said, reaching out to touch my hand. "I mean it. None of what happened at your old school was your fault, you know."

I was still, and my eyes were fixed steadily on hers.

Was she kidding?

She watched me, clearly waiting for an appropriate reply, which I gave.

"Right," I said, consciously lifting the corners of my mouth into what I hoped looked like a smile. "I know."

She had no idea.

But this appeased her, and she nodded. "Good. Just remember that. In the meantime, try to enjoy yourself, okay? I know you've been through a lot but give yourself a break – it's just high school."

I pasted that effortful smile onto my face. "Sure," I said. "I'll try."

Jade's grin lit up her face. "Okay, well," she said, rising from her plushy seat, "great talk. Five minutes til the bell rings. Be sure to stop by to check in with me after school. I got some more of that liquorice you like – the red kind. Oh, and there's an assembly in the auditorium at two, don't miss it – it's gonna be epic." Then she gave a wink, turned and left. Epic. Where the staff of New Pathways had essentially banned the terms 'crazy' or 'normal' as they were deemed to be not therapeutically beneficial, they had an apparent fondness for the word 'epic' – Jade in particular.

I watched her go, put my earbuds in and finished my lunch, trying not to think too hard about that teacher and my friend.

/

The din from the auditorium was deafening. The enormous room held two-thousand seats and, to me at least, there seemed to be double that number of students inside, with more pouring in through the wide doors. Many were still busy greeting each other after the long summer holiday – screaming and hugging and fist-bumping friends from other classes and grades.

I shuffled through the crowd, wincing at the thunderous noise echoing throughout the auditorium and clutching my bag tight to my shoulder. With my head ducked, I was following the legs of the people in front of me as we moved forward, and that was why I didn't see the boy with the white polo and khaki shorts. I stumbled into his side, and we both gave small sounds of surprise and turned to one another. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and with a face filled with apology, I looked up to see a tall, blue-eyed and tanned man with a healthy tan and blond highlights in his sandy-brown hair. He smiled at my stammered apology, revealing perfectly straight white teeth. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and my blush spread down my neck and beneath my shirt. He was unthreatening; unintimidating, and groundedly gorgeous.

He stepped aside and gestured toward the doors. "After you," he said politely, with an amused grin.

I cleared my throat and tried to relax my white-knuckled grip on my bag, adjusting it on my shoulder. "Thank you," I said, and in that same moment a sudden gust of ocean breeze blew around us and my pink class schedule which I had shoved in an unzipped pocket of my bag, flew loose and fluttered away.

"Oh, here," he said, chasing after it before I could react. "I'll get it."

"It's okay—" I said, following him a few steps, but he had already picked it up from the ground. I thanked him as he handed it back - not before he gave it a quick look-over -, and he nodded.

"Pierce Oliviera," he said, as I tucked the pink slip in my back pocket. "D-Wing, huh?" he asked with a laugh.

I'm sure he could see the defensive confusion on my face, because he laughed again.

"It's cool, don't worry about it," he said. "New Pathways, right?"

Now I was very confused, how the hell had he known? Could he smell the crazy on me?

"Everyone in D-Wing is in New Pathways," he explained. "Not that that's a bad thing," he quickly added. "New Pathways is great. I've had a lot of friends go through New Pathways." I blinked at him as he gave an awkward laugh. "It's a great programme. Really great—"

"I have anger issues," I told him. He was making me nervous – he was too attractive and his shirt was too white. I didn't understand people who could wear white without immediately spilling something all down their front; they were a different, less clumsy kind of people. I was the kind of people who struggled with panic attacks, severe anxiety and near uncontrollable emotional outbursts. If this guy knew about New Pathways, and now knew my name, then he might as well hear why I'm in the programme from me, rather than through the gossip-chain later on.

"Hey," he shrugged with a dazzling smile, making me more nervous. "It's not the worst thing in the world. I mean, you're still Pierce Oliviera. That's good, right?"

You're still Pierce Oliviera? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Yeah," I said, returning his smile as Jade had told me to do when I wasn't sure how to react to something. "I guess." Then I pointed to the doors to the auditorium – we were some of the last to enter and I kind of wanted this interaction to end. "Are you—?"

"Oh, sure, yeah." The guy, who hadn't introduced himself, moved past me and opened the door for me. "After you."

"Thanks," I said, and stepped into the noisy auditorium. Without glancing back, I walked away and found a clear area and hovered there for a few moments, feeling lost. What was I supposed to do from here? Was I supposed to sit in a particular area? Did everyone have their own seats? Heart pumping unsteadily in my chest, I casually went through one of my breathing exercises to keep myself calm – I felt out-of-place and increasingly overwhelmed. The last thing I wanted was to suffer a panic attack on the first day of school, and in the middle of the auditorium in front of literally the entire student body. I'm okay. This is fine. Where is Alex?

After a minute or two of looking around, both searching for my cousin and generally people-watching, I spotted that same guy in the white polo standing with his group of friends down by the stage stairs, and he saw me and smiled again. A few of his buddies smiled too, and one of the girls – with out-of-fashion white tipped nails, and flat-ironed hair (an impressive achievement in southern Florida) – gave a friendly wave. The other girl, on the other hand, impressed me with the talent that was typing on her phone while also sending a foul glare in my direction. That was some good multitasking, I thought dryly, and looked away. I pushed away the thought of going to stand with them, despite it being a clear opportunity to make new friends. Coward that I am.

I couldn't see Alex anywhere, but I did see a girl that I recognised from my economics class. She had a giant aurora of dark curly hair, shot through with heavy streaks of bright purple, which was hard to forget. I'd also seen her in the New Pathways office last week, having her own orientation session with her counsellor. I remembered that my necklace – my bare neck itched – had turned purple when I'd thought of her, though I didn't know what that had meant. In any case, she was sitting alone at the end of an aisle, surrounded by empty seats. I acted on my thoughts before I could hesitate and approached her.

"Are these seats taken?" I asked. She didn't reply, and it took a moment to realise that she wasn't snubbing me – she was just wearing earbuds, hidden by her hair.

She looked up from her phone when I gave her shoulder a gentle tap. "Oh, sorry!" she said, moving her legs for me to get by.

"Thanks," I said, collapsing into the seat next to hers.

The girl turned back to her phone as I sat down, and I took the chance to check out her lip and eyebrow piercings. Very spunky. I tried not to glance at her phone screen, and it wasn't anything interesting when I did anyway.

I sat, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do with my hands. Almost everyone else I saw in the auditorium who wasn't engaged in active conversation with their friends, was looking down at their phone. Mine was locked up in the office of Tim, the head of the New Pathways programme. The administrators had taken it when I had picked up my class schedule and told me to fetch it from him at the end of the day. It was to encourage me to 'interact more', rather than hide online. Which was fair enough, I supposed, but it was still irritating.

So, instead I sat and looked at her jewellery – on her fingers was a spattering of black and silver rings and shining gems of various sizes and colours. And the sight of them brought back a memory I'd rather not have thought about, especially not while I was sat there next to a girl I had half an intention of trying to befriend. But the shining gems took me back to that day, to that shop, to him and what he had done. I winced and with no time to grab the sedatives in my pocket, I did my best to let it play out.