Chapter Twenty-Nine

The vibration of her phone going off captivated Lorna's attention away from the car window. Her hand quickly pulled the device from her purse; she checked the ID before answering and felt her heart skip a few too many beats when she realized it was Franny and that she never returned home the previous night. "Shit, I'm a real idiot," she muttered quietly, angry with herself for not even calling her sister to let her know she was okay. The thought of Franny's waking up worried made her stomach twist with an intense queasiness. Angry with herself for most certainly causing a panic with her older sister, she made up her mind that she needed to stop at the bathroom first thing once they arrived at the school.

"Why didn't ya answer when I called you last night, Lorn? Where were you? Are you okay?" The questions frantically spilled from Franny's voice on the other line. She had spent the better part of the previous night dialing all the local hospitals after receiving Lorna's voicemail box a dozen times. So, finally having reached her sister, relief would be a bit of an understatement of how she had felt in that particular moment.

It wasn't difficult for Lorna to know how concerned the older woman was by the urgency in her tone. Her feet shifted against the ground; she let her eyes gaze out the windshield, revealing they were pulling into the school's parking lot. With a heavy heart, she took in a hefty breath and gradually released it. "I'm real sorry, Fran—I'm fine, I promise. I just, I decided to spend the night at Nicky's house and my phone died so I didn't know ya even called."

Franny sighed through the receiver. She wasn't entirely mad at the younger girl, more concerned than anything but refrained from delving further for the time being. "You should have just told me last night where ya were going instead of sneaking out. Look, I know ya got school soon so we'll talk about this more later. I love you, Lorn, just promise me you won't do some shit like this again?"

"Of course, I promise. I didn't meana upset you or nothin'," Lorna quickly answered.

The two said goodbye, seconds later, right in time for the car to be pulled to a stop in one of the parking spots. Lorna grabbed her bookbag from the floor, where it sat between her feet, and pushed open the passenger door once she had unfastened her seatbelt. Nicky had done the same after shutting off the car and the two quickly made their way inside of the school, thankful to get out of the cold, slushy, snow.

It was Nicky who decided to take the lead to their lockers, which had since been placed right beside each other once she had reenrolled a few weeks prior. She was grateful for that as it meant she could keep a closer eye on her girlfriend. After hearing about the toilet incident, Nicky trusted none of their high school peers around either of them but even more so around Lorna. She grabbed her books from her own and then turned to wait for the younger teen to retrieve hers.

Lorna took out her books for the morning classes, however, after shutting the locker door she turned the opposite direction of where their classes were located. The decision to stop at the bathroom had already been made long before the two girls entered inside of the school. Guilt tore through her—not just over the food she consumed but at the fact that she knowingly caused her older sister a night of worry. She had to be punished for both of those things, she deemed.

"Where ya going, kid? Isn't your class right across the hall from mine? And that's down this way," Nicky stated, pointing her finger in the other direction than from where she noticed her girlfriend was headed.

Concern hadn't gone unnoticed by the brunette; she heard it clearly in her voice and once again the guilt she already felt intensified heavily. Nothing was worse to her than being the culprit of other people's worries. A puff of air pushed out from her lungs. "I just needa run to the bathroom real quick, hon. I'll catch ya at lunch," was her quick response. The worried gleam that soaked through her girlfriend's eyes caused a faint constriction in her chest and she turned back the other way, needing to make it to the restroom before any more of her body was dissolved in guilt.


The second she entered inside of the bathroom, a sense of calmness overcame her. As if she had returned back to a home where both her mother and brother were safely awaiting her arrival. Where her father was a decent human being who didn't use alcohol to numb out every last sense he had. A place where food wasn't her worst enemy. She shrugged away the dream and let her eyes search the room before feeling safe enough to enter one of the stalls. Nobody was in there aside from herself, to which she was grateful for.

Clicking the door locked, Lorna walked towards the toilet and kneeled on the floor in front of it. The sight instantly stiffened her body. She swallowed roughly, realizing that the last time she hovered over one of these was the day Annalisa shoved her head in it. Such memory caused her heart to clench; she squeezed her eyes shut for a few moments before gathering the strength she needed to repossess her beloved toothbrush from her handbag.

Having the toothbrush in her hands had instantly soothed away the panicky sensation that started to form. Her eyes focused on the little white hairs of the brush part, she let her thumb stroke through it. There were stains on it, she noticed, from previous purging episodes more than likely. She released her motion and brought it up to her mouth, sticking the brush back until she felt it hit her gag reflex. No sooner she did that, heaving rather quickly followed suit and before long, all of her stomach contents emptied into the toilet in front of her. She repeated the task several more times until all that splashed into the water was her own bile.

Once she cleaned herself off and flushed away the evidence of her secretive behavior, she unlocked the stall and walked over to the sink to rinse off her face. Her reflection in the mirror portrayed her puffy cheeks along with almost black colored circles underneath her physically exhausted brown eyes. The sight sickened her; she splashed hot water over her face but that did nothing to change its appearance. She sighed, reaching for her purse and setting it atop the counter so that she could rummage through it for some concealer.

It didn't take too long for Lorna to finally find it, she took it out and put a dab of the liquid foundation underneath each of her eyes. Her thumb blended it in to cover up the bags; she glanced back in the mirror and felt somewhat relieved to see that they were much less noticeable now. She didn't need anyone seeing those and interrogating her on whether or not she was properly caring for herself.

Fairly tolerable with her appearance, Lorna decided it was finally safe enough to leave the bathroom. And when she did, she nearly jolted to see Nicky's hovering right outside the door of it. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink while her eyes averted to the tiled floor. "Oh, hey, Nicky—what're you doing out here? Thought ya woulda headed to class already," she tried to keep her voice from trembling, yet, she had no idea if the older girl had heard any of the retching from out there or not. She really hoped it was the latter; the thought of someone so close to her finding out about her little secret formed a dull ache in her chest.

Nicky stared intensely into the younger teen's eyes, holding the gaze for several long moments. She tried to read her face, tried to figure out what she was feeling but came up empty. With a sigh, she reached a hand in front of her to rest on Lorna's cheek. Her thumb caressed delicately around its flesh. "I just wanna make sure you're okay, kid. I'm still worried about ya—I mean after the last time ya were in the bathroom alone, I just don't want anything to happen to you. Are ya good, doll?"

The genuine concern had Lorna's breath hitch in her throat. She didn't deserve that kind of kindness, not when she was constantly hiding so much from her. A sigh came out and she pushed the contradicting feelings aside for a moment, pursing her lips in an affectionate smile. She wrapped an arm softly around Nicky's shoulder, squeezing her in a warm embrace. "I'm good, hon. You don't have to worry. I love you," her voice murmured lovingly into the taller teen's ear.

"I love you too, babe. Just please promise me if anyone's bullying you, you'll tell me, yeah?" The redhead inquired, desperation oozing from her big brown eyes. Her arms wrapped around Lorna's waist in an attempt to return the hug.

Lorna nodded, pressing a delicate kiss to her girlfriend's cheek. "I promise, Nicky."


The moment she entered into her science class later that morning, she was quickly pulled away to the school counselor's office. A grunt escaped her when she remembered that she was supposed to meet with Mrs. Mendoza that day. She gathered her things and grudgingly walked back through the door, down the hall towards her office. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about any more of that frustrating incident with another shrink—or rather shrink-like individual.

At least the office had a welcoming scent, she thought, as she walked inside of it. A cinnamon aroma filled the air and reminded her of the coffee drink she so severely favored. Lorna sat down in one of the chairs right across from Mrs. Mendoza's desk and let her eyes gaze at the middle-aged woman, who was busy typing up an email or something on the bulky computer in front of her. She felt another heaping breath of air ready to burst from her lungs. The recollection of her therapy session from the day before played through her mind and she desperately hoped that Dr. Washington hadn't been in contact with her school counselor. She loathed the idea of the two people conversing about her behind her back.

Not long passed before the older woman stopped typing and glanced up from her task to meet eyes with Lorna. A friendly smile melded onto her face. She shut off her computer screen, grabbing her tea that had been sitting on a coaster beside the bulky object and sipped it slowly. "How've you been? It's a been a few weeks since we last met, huh?"

Lorna sighed, crossing a leg over the other and switching the position of them every so often. No matter how hard she tried to be agitated or annoyed with the counselor, she couldn't be. There was something rather calming about Mrs. Mendoza, whether it was her voice or her demeanor in general. It made any frustration dissipate just as quickly as it came. "I'm fine. Don't know why I'm here…I mean I guess I do, my grades must still suck. Do they? I haven't paid much attention to them since the last time I came to your office," she truthfully commented, letting her shoulders bounce up in a shrug.

"Right now, your grades are not the biggest concern I have with you," the Hispanic woman stated, allowing her caramel eyes to gaze intently across into the student's. After the news traveled of the toilet incident weeks prior, she worried tremendously for Lorna's well-being, however, hadn't had the chance to discuss the happenings with her any sooner. Now that the young teen sat before her, she studied her quite closely and felt a pang in her chest. It broke her heart when any of the young students even contemplated something as serious as suicide but to acknowledge that Lorna nearly carried it out, she knew she had to find a way to reach and help her. Because, by the looks of things, her parents hadn't exactly seemed too invested in her life.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" The brunette folded her arms defensively over her chest. She averted her eyes away from the woman, glancing out the window and being mesmerized by the falling of the snow.

Mrs. Mendoza observed her with a firm stare. Since the last time Lorna was sitting in her office, it was easily noticeable that the teen had lost a rather significant amount of weight. She sighed and sipped her tea. Being a high school counselor wasn't always easy, she distinguished, no matter how much energy she put into it, she knew the chances of successfully reaching all of the students were against her. Yet, she vowed that Lorna would be different—she couldn't allow her to dwindle down a detrimental path. Something about the young brunette brought a maternal protectiveness over her.

"Well, didn't something happen since the last time we met? Let's discuss that, Lorna."

The brunette swallowed thickly, keeping her eyes out the window. Snow covered the ground like a blanket. The cars in the parking lot all had that same snow piled on top of them, making them all look like blobs of white slush. She was sick of hearing others bring up the damn toilet incident. Her teeth grit together to keep down her frustration. "Nothing happened. I just want to leave so I can go back to class. I have to pay attention so I can pass it—I don't need Mrs. Bell calling my dad because I'm failing."

"Lorna, right now your grade is the least important thing. Mrs. Bell knows you're here and isn't going to dock you for anything, okay? Please don't worry about your grades now," the counselor calmly informed her, trying to keep her emotions from spilling into her voice. She took a breath along with another sip of her tea before continuing to talk. "We need to discuss the incident from a few weeks ago. Suicide is not something we take lightly here."

"I did not try to commit suicide," Lorna responded deadpanned, tapping her fingers against the rim of Mrs. Mendoza's desk. She swallowed and let her eyes focus down on her lap. It was tiring having to hear that everyone in the school thought she was some suicidal little girl when really she was just the result of being bullied. She sighed, digging her nails into the jeans that covered her legs. The fault for that, however, was on her; she refused to admit that she was bullied, the repercussions of that would only lead to more, she deemed.

Maternal instincts kicking in, the caramel-haired woman gently reached a hand over to place on Lorna's shoulder while peering strongly into her eyes. "Can you tell me what happened, then? Another student said they saw you put your head in the toilet and hold it there for quite a while. I just, I don't know why anyone would lie about something so serious, honey. But, please, if that's not what happened please tell me the truth."

It proved to be a challenge for Lorna to refrain from saying anything on the matter. There was something about Mrs. Mendoza that made her believe that the woman truly cared and wanted to help her. Her calming, motherly demeanor, easily encouraged her to go on and explain what really happened that day. "The girl who told everyone I tried to drown myself would do exactly that because she-she hates me. I-I didn't think she was going to make me look like a mental person like she did. I was hoping everyone woulda just assumed I fainted again because they think I'm the fainter who gets out of class," she murmured, her voice gradually getting quieter with each word she spoke.

"Who is this girl? What actually happened, Lorna?"

Shifting her legs unnervingly, Lorna bit down on the side of her mouth. "She didn't watch me try to kill myself—she, she was the one who, uh, who kinda held my head in the water," her eyes gazed down on the floor, she silently counted the dots of the tile; it was the only thing she could do in that moment to soothe herself.

Mrs. Mendoza instantly felt her heart cracking at the teen's heartrending revelation. Her eyes softened enormously as they peered firmly into Lorna's. "Honey, what's the name of this girl who did this to ya? Tell me please; we can't allow behavior like that to continue." Though there was a noticeable sternness on her face, she kept her voice soft, not wanting the young girl to feel even remotely intimidated.

"I don't wanna say. I-I don't want anyone to get in trouble because a me," Lorna mumbled, shame quickly molding onto her face. She kept her head hung down, not wanting to see the anger in her counselor's eyes. It was her own fault the incident happened anyway if she hadn't have chosen to go to the bathroom that morning, Annalisa wouldn't have been tempted to harm her.

The shame on her face caused the pang in the older woman's chest to deepen. She shook her head sadly, letting her hand pat softly against Lorna's shoulder. "You will not be the reason anyone gets in trouble—the girl who hurt you is her own reason for getting in trouble, okay? I just need you to give me her name. Can you do that for me, Lorna? If you're worried she's gonna know it's you, she won't. I'll keep it anonymous, I promise."

Lorna sucked in a breath, mentally debating with herself on what to respond with. A lump sat in her throat and she felt her heart-rate climbing rapidly. Keeping everything inside surely wasn't benefiting her, yet, the thought of letting any of that out only caused more guilt to consume her. It was a lose-lose situation no matter how she thought about it. "But why does it even matter? I mean it's been weeks anyway, who cares if some other girl actually tried to drown me? The principal probably won't believe it anyway and ask me why I waited so long to say anything," her voice progressively grew quieter.

"It does matter; our school has a strict no bullying policy. And what that student did to ya would qualify as attempted murder, honestly. Lorna, I'll be the one discussing with the principal what happened and I promise you something will be done about this girl. But, please, I need you to give me her name."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Lorna lifted her hands to lay against her temples and massaged them in a rather violent manner. She swallowed a lump in her throat and felt a grunt make its way out from her esophagus. "What's gonna happen if I give ya her name? I don't want no one gettin' in trouble cause a me," she asked, brown eyes peering skeptically across the desk into those of the counselor's.

Mrs. Mendoza observed the young brunette closely, there was a twinge felt in her chest for her. She finished the rest of her tea and folded her hands in her lap. "You don't need to worry about that, Lorna. That is for me to handle. Please give me her name. I promise no one will know you told me. But I really need you to tell me it."

Don't say it. Don't you dare say her name Lorna. The words repeated quite loudly through her mind. She tried to drown them out but they only grew louder. A frustrated sigh escaped her. Even her inner-self wanted to continue to watch her slowly suffer the realization dawned on her. She swallowed thickly while timidly peering back over at the middle-aged woman. It wasn't hard for her to take notice of the sincerity sitting on her face. Yet, even with such an observation, the voice in her head contradicted what was asked of her. Even as she yearned to give the name of her bully finally.

Lorna went to open her mouth. Do not say her name. Her inner voice persisted and an irritated grunt came out instead of the name she so desperately desired to inform the counselor of. She focused her eyes on the palms of her hands that she rested on her thighs. You don't need any help. You deserve everything Annalisa dishes out. The thoughts clogged up her mind, she found herself instinctively nodding along. Of course she deserved to be bullied by the blonde teen; she was fat and ugly and probably the reason her own mother had gotten cancer in the first place, she silently affirmed.

"No, I was wrong. I-I think I did try to drown myself, but not on purpose. I just…I don't—I—"

"Yeah, no, I'm not believing that for even a second, Lorna. Why are ya so adamant on not telling me the girl's name that you'd even try to convince me and yourself that you tried to commit suicide when ya know in your heart you didn't? Are you that scared of this girl that you are willing to let her get away with harming you?"

"I just don't see what the big deal is. Who cares? I wish I didn't say anything about it. This is real stupid and I don't know why I have to be here. I hate it—I hate this," Lorna threw up her hands out of anger. It felt like her body was being eaten alive by the sheer intensity of rage and frustration she unveiled. The rage and frustration made her seem as though she'd been out of control. She strived for control, needed it, craved it. But in that moment—stuck in the school counselor's office—she had no clue how to obtain the control she so highly desired.

The anger hadn't gone unnoticed by Mrs. Mendoza. She watched with a sadness in her eyes. Clearly, the young girl was going through something that was much deeper than just dealing with a kid or two picking fun at her. "Shh," she gently hushed, watching her slight outburst in nothing but concern for her. It was easily apparent how hysterical the teen was getting and that broke her heart quite significantly. Her eyes gazed in sympathy at Lorna. "Shh. Calm down. Would ya like a hug, honey? You look really upset, maybe a hug might help some," her voice tenderly suggested.

Words weren't anything that Lorna could muster up the energy to form in that moment. On one hand she craved the warm embrace of another human being—especially from a woman who reminded her so much of her own mother—however, another part of her felt strongly that she deserved nothing good, even more so the comfort of a hug. There was a never ending battle between herself in her mind; she sighed from the exhaustion it endlessly caused her, both mentally and physically. She couldn't even reason with herself because she had also been the most stubborn person she knew.

"I just want to be an adult so I can be done with school and live on my own," she found herself responding with, much to her surprise. It came out almost as if it were an instinctive way to answer a question. Yet, the statement was an honest one, nonetheless. There was nothing she'd desired more than to be of age where she could make her own decisions. Where she wouldn't have to continue attending a petty high school full of immature students who found amusement in other's pain. Or where she could finally move out of her abusive father's house.

"I can understand why ya feel that way. The drama in high school can be very petty and childish. Some kids will find the dumbest reasons to pester another and it's just outrageous. But that's why I'm here. You can talk to me about whoever it is that is causing you so much grief that you are wishing your childhood away so soon. I can make sure something is done about it, okay?"

Lorna felt her heart slightly constrict. It was a simple request. A simple, easy, request. And she had the answer. She wanted to give the answer, she really did, but the part of her that was so unwaveringly self-destructive mentally contended with her to keep her mouth sealed. A breath of air exhaustively released from her lungs. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap as if that would do anything to make the situation any better. Her throat felt dry and raw when she swallowed and she realized then how dehydrated she was. She sighed, lifting her head enough to glance across at the brown-haired woman.

"Can I, uh, can I have a cup of water, please?" The query came rather timidly from her mouth. Guilt intensified after she asked that; what if there were miniscule traces of calories in the school's water? She swallowed uncomfortably at the questioning thought that just suddenly came to her mind. Since when had she cared about calories? Her face swiftly felt hot, she let her eyes focus back down on her thighs. She hadn't the first clue what was going on with herself anymore.

Mrs. Mendoza observed her with worried eyes of her own. There was clearly a mental battle seemingly going on in that poor girl's mind, she quietly pondered. With a nod of her head, she grabbed a dixie cup from the pile of them on the shelf below her desk and then took the pitcher of water she had sitting on the surface to the right of her computer screen, pouring a decent amount into the plastic cup. Gently, she reached over to hand it to Lorna. She gave her a sad smile. "It's gonna be okay, honey. Whatever it is you're going through, I promise it will get better."

Lorna gratefully took the cup and gulped down the refreshingly cold water. She felt it go all the way through her throat, the coldness quickly soothing away the raw sensation that previously had been there. As she peered back at the older woman, she shook her head at that comment. Everything would be okay? Not even close, her mind swirled with opposing thoughts. No matter what anyone said on the matter, nothing would ever be okay again. How could it? The mere thought of anything in her life being okay was ludicrous and impossible.

"How can you promise anything will get better when ya know nothing?"

"Because I know that even when we think it's totally impossible, everything will work out and things will be okay. But that's why it's also important to open up about things. How can anyone help you when you seem to keep it all hidden?" The woman pointed out, shoulders slightly moving upwards in a muted shrug.

It was a valid question, reasonable and logical. Yet, Lorna had not a logical or reasonable explanation to respond with. Sometimes she pondered whether she refused to open up to people out of fear or on some sick level because she enjoyed psychologically torturing herself. She placed the empty dixie cup on the top of Mrs. Mendoza's desk. A deep breath expelled. "I mean my sista makes me see a therapist now. But it's pointless just like this. I don't understand why I had to skip class to talk to you. What do you want me to say? I don't have anything. I'm so done with shrinks and counselors I just want to go to back to class."

"It must be exhausting," the Hispanic woman commented, eyeing the teen intently. She sat with her arms folded across her chest. "Keeping whatever it is that is bothering you inside all the time. It's tiring, isn't it? Does your best friend know? Anyone close to you?"

Exhausting was one way to describe what it had been like to be stuck inside her own mind, Lorna silently declared. No one knew what she'd been dealing with, especially not Nicky—Nicky was the last person she desired to know out of trepidation of burdening her. She refused to be the culprit of anyone's burden. And her redhead girlfriend, who she adored more than her own self, was the last person who deserved to be put in such a situation. However, that made keeping so much a secret from her one of the most draining tasks imaginable.

Her head nodded, as if her subconscious mind was trying to blatantly contradict what she was about to say. "I have no clue what you're talking about. I'm doing fine in life and nothing bad is going on. Everything is just perfect. My best friend doesn't need to know a damn thing because there's nothing fucking wrong," Lorna's voice rapidly grew louder, bolder. Anger easily oozing out as she spoke.

"Lorna, you may believe what you're saying is true but I certainly don't. And clearly neither does your sister since she sees fit that you meet with a therapist outside of school as well."

"Yeah, well, the only reason I'm seeing the fucking shrink is because this stupid school thinks I'm a damn suicidal psycho," Lorna threw back, the words bitter and leaving a sour taste in her mouth.

Mrs. Mendoza cleared her throat slightly louder than normal. She tapped a hand against the wood of her desk and gave a stern stare towards the brunette. "No one here thinks you're a suicidal psycho, Lorna. But the incident that took place here has everyone worried. And if you're not able to give me the name of the girl who actually caused that to happen, how can I properly help you? Do you want to be helped even?"

Finally, the petite teen thought, a question she could give a truthful answer for. "No, I don't need or want help. I never fucking asked to be in the first place," she stated, slamming her hands against the rim of the desk. Her feet pushed harshly against the floor, she forced herself up and swiftly made her way out of the guidance office.