Chapter 5

Nico's Point of View

I wake up freezing, even curled p in Jason's jacket. I've decided that I'm going to hold it hostage for as long as I can, though it doesn't smell like him as much as it used to. I realize that I forgot to close the window when I came in last night. Lucky for me, it didn't rain.

The winter sun is coming in through the window and shining on my face. The early morning air nips at my face and I bury it under the covers. The birds are chirping. I wish they wouldn't. It's like they're trying to say "Hey, Nico! Get up! Time to start a new day!" But I don't want to. I don't even want to move. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew that today was going to be one of those days. I mean, most of my days are bad. There are bad days, and then thee are days like this. Days when I completely forget how to function and wish that my life had a pause button. Or maybe a stop button. I really wish the world would stop turning when I do. But it doesn't even care enough to know that I've stopped. I turn upside down and further bury my face in my pillow. I don't want to face it. I don't want to face the world.

There's a weight on my chest. Something feels really, really wrong. It's not just the usual sadness, or emptiness; there's fear there too. Not just anxiety, but dread. I can't remember the last time I felt this afraid.

And then I remember why; today is our English presentation. Nausea hits me in one big wave. I can't do it. I can't. Why did I trick myself into thinking I could? Maybe I just shouldn't go. But I can't abandon Jason like that. I never even should have worked on it with him. I should have told Mr. Brunner that I couldn't do it, and let him pick Jason a new partner. But now he's relying on me to do my part. I should have just taken a zero. A zero would have been better than this; surprisingly, I still have an A in this class anyways. I could have survived that. But getting up in front of the whole class? That's a whole different story.

I have to spend ten minutes trying to control my breathing before grudgingly hauling myself up and heading towards the bathroom. I lock the door behind me and face myself in the mirror. I look the same as I did last night, and yesterday morning, and the same as I've looked for as long as I can remember, but I almost don't recognize myself. I never do anymore. I look like I might drop dead at any second; my olive skin has paled and is tinted green, my cheeks are hollow, and my eyes are shadowed with dark purple bags. I remove my shirt and stare at my naked chest. It's so skinny, it almost looks concave. My hair is past my ears now, but it's gotten so thin. And then there are the scars. They criss-cross across both of my arms and my chest, and really don't help the whole looking-like-a-zombie-thing.

I turn away. I want to tell myself that a mirror's just a lousy piece of glass, that the outside doesn't count. But my outside has become a reflection of what's inside. And it's my fault; I cut and starved it nearly beyond the point of recognition. Because I'm sick. And I'm fucked up. And now I look it.

I open my cabinet- the one on the left- and life up my bottle of mouthwash. Underneath it sits a razor blade. I pick it up and turn it over in my fingers. I just need to get through the day in one piece, and this is the only way that I can do that. It's funny how I have to tear myself apart to hold myself together.

I remove the rest of my clothes and turn the shower as hot as it can go. I climb in, wincing, and sit down on the floor. The water burns, badly, especially on my half-healed cuts, but I let it fall onto my skin and color me red anyways. Maybe if it hurts enough I can forget.

I just want to forget. I gasp in pain as I dig the blade into my already red arm. I want to forget about what's waiting for me in English. I want to forget about Jason. About Percy. Not about Bianca, never Bianca. But I want to forget how cruelly she was taken from me. I want to forget how much it hurts to wake up. I want to forget how hard it is to fall asleep knowing that you'll have to wake up in the morning. And I want to forget that it's all meaningless. Everything I've gone through- meaningless. Existence is meaningless. Even as I think it, I feel the air go out of my lungs. I'm so small. So small to hurt so much. I'm smaller than it's even possible to comprehend, and Bianca was too, or maybe still is. I still don't know which. Either way, she doesn't matter, and she's gone now, and it hurts- it hurts so badly I sometimes feel I might burst- but that doesn't matter either. There's no point to any of it. It's only humans who like to pretend there's a purpose. We make up gods, and ideas like destiny, and fate, and karma, and it's all bullshit. It doesn't matter that I feel so afraid. It doesn't matter that I hate Percy but love him too. It doesn't matter that Hazel is too good a world this cruel, a world that ruined Bianca. It doesn't matter that I've started to think about Jason in a way I know he'll never think about me. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.

But I want to forget all of that. The water burns, and the still-bleeding cuts sting, and the steam makes it even harder to breath. But it all feels real. Pain is real. I am real, I am real, I am real.

I stay like that until someone knocks on the door to tell me to hurry up. After I dress, though it's the last thing I want to do, I head downstairs to wait for Percy and Hazel to come down; I'm almost always the first one ready, and we always walk to school together, along with Annabeth. With long, beautiful blonde hair, gorgeous gray eyes, and a perfectly toned body from all of the sports she plays, it's no wonder she's Percy's girlfriend. Along with Jason, he's probably the most popular kid in school. Not only is he handsome, hilarious, and the school's best swimmer, he's also friendly, open-minded, and kind. He's such a good person, you can't really help but like him. He's the kind of guy you'd expect to be the main character of a book or movie. I almost wish he had some awful secret of characteristic that could make me hate him, but after knowing him nearly my whole life, I still can't find anything. And after all the hurt he's caused me, I still get butterflies when he looks at me with those sea green eyes, and I still feel a twinge of jealousy every time I see him with Annabeth.

To my surprise, Percy, Annabeth, and Hazel are already in the kitchen when I get downstairs; they're all making breakfast together. Hazel's at the stove with a frying pan full of bacon. Annabeth's spraying our waffle maker with Pam. Percy's pouring blue food coloring into a bowl of pancake mix. He has flour on his nose and I can't decide if he looks stupid or endearing. Probably both. As usual.

Hazel notices me standing at the base of the stairs and says, "Hey Nico!" in a voice that's unusually cheery, even for her. "Want a waffle? There's bacon, too."

Then it hits me, what they're trying to do. They think they can pressure me into eating. Maybe it's a test. But the smell alone is enough to make my nausea unbearable. And I was already nervous enough without the added stress of having to defend myself to them. I really don't need this right now. I know that they just want to help, especially Hazel, and I know that I have lost a lot of weight lately. But it's not like I'm doing it on purpose or anything. I'm not anorexic. After what happened to Bianca, I couldn't even think of eating. Every one assured me that was normal, and that my appetite would come back. Which it did, somewhat. For a while. But I haven't been able to hold down anything lately. I don't remember the last time I had a full meal. I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday, unless you count the three bites of hamburger I threw up at dinner. If I try to eat enough bacon and waffle to satisfy their worry, I'll just throw it all up again. I know I should at least try, but- I can't. I'm already trembling, and the thought makes me want to bolt for the door.

So I just say, "Actually, I need to be at school a little bit early today, to ask my teacher about something."

Hazel's face starts to fall, even though I know she must have expected me to give an excuse. She picks up her smile right away, though, and says, "That's okay, take one to go, then-"

To my surprise, Annabeth stops her. I don't know Annabeth very well, and while she's always been kind to me, she's never gone out of her way to talk to me. When she speaks, she's direct and to the point. "Are you trying to starve yourself?"

Yup. There it is. I try to stay calm and nonchalant, even though I'm getting increasingly frustrated. "No," I begin, attempting to sound confused. "Why would you think that?"

Hazel recovers from the shock of Annabeth's question. "Have you seen yourself lately?" she demands. "You look like you could be in one of those ads for feeding the hungry. I can't remember the last time I saw you do more than nibble on toast. And last night, when you excused yourself from dinner- we all heard you throwing up."

"I was sick. You can't just assume I'm trying to starve myself," I say calmly. Or at least I hope it's calmly.

Percy, who's been quiet this whole time, and whose expression remains unreadable, speaks. "You don't have to get upset. We just want to help."

I meet his eye. "What makes you think I'd want help from you?" This is aimed directly at Percy, and judging from his hurt look, he knows this. But Hazel doesn't.

"We're you're family! That's what family's for!"

Of course she goes there. She always goes there, because it's a sensitive spot for both of us. We've both got a shitty father and a dead mother, and an adopted family that neither of us feel we quite belong in. All we truly have is each other.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," I say. I feel kind of bad for being a smart ass to her, but, you know.

Annabeth, of course, is the only one who's still calm. "Look, we just think it's strange how much weight you've been losing lately. It's not healthy."

"Right, so obviously I must have an eating disorder."

"I know every one thinks that only girls have them," she says. "But we know better. If only you'd just tell us-"

"Look," I snap. "I don't have time for this right now. I'm fine, okay? And I'd be a hell of a lot better if you'd all leave this alone."

And then I storm out the door..

I break into a run with little regard as to where I'm going. All I know is that I can't go to school. Not like this. Maybe by English I'll be fine. I know I'll get in trouble for ditching, but I don't care. Depression has a funny way of making a person apathetic about everything. Then again, anxiety makes you care too much about everything. It's a very confusing combination. I keep running anyways, though my heart is already pounding hard enough. I run out of my neighborhood, past the school, past the 7/11 on the corner. I find myself in another housing track. I keep running until I barrel straight into someone and fall backward.

To my surprise, it's Reyna. As she recognizes me, her expression changes from one of annoyance to one of shock.

"Nico?"

"Reyna?"

"What are- Oh," she stops, and helps me up before continuing. "What are you doing over here?"

"What- what are you doing?" I stutter.

"I live h ere," she says, confused.

Duh. "Oh. Right. Yeah." Congratulations, Nico, you've managed to make yourself look like a complete idiot. Again.

She leans and looks behind me. "Are you running from something?"

"Um- no- just, you know, out for my morning jog." I try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. The running has exhausted me, enough that the anxiety has simmered down, though I feel like collapsing.

She looks concerned; I know that she knows something's wrong. She has a way of reading me, almost like Jason, but different. It's like she knows who I am and where I am because she's been like me before. Maybe that's sounds crazy. But it's not as strange as the way it feels like Jason has known me before.

"I take it you weren't planning on going to school?"

I shake my head. "Not yet anyways," I say. For some reason, he presence makes me feel calmer.

"Wanna go get a coffee? I was heading for school, but I'm happy for a chance to miss physics."

This surprises me, but I nod. I feel like complete shit and I'm freezing; I should have grabbed my jacket, but that would have ruined the dramatic exit. A hot drink sounds perfect.

She gestures towards a truck next to us on the curb. "Hop in."

I do. She goes around to the driver's side and starts the engine. She turns up the heater, and it takes a minute to warm up, but when it does, I feel automatically ten times better. I rest my head against the door.

She doesn't say anything; the whole ride to the coffee shop is silent. It's comfortable, though, even though we barely know each other. My favorite people are the ones you can sit in quiet with, both completely absorbed in your own minds. Part of me is worried about what she's thinking about me, but it's a small part. The rest of me, for some strange reason, despite the events of the morning, is occupied with thoughts of Jason.

It started when I wondered what he would think of me if I didn't show up to do our project. And I realized that I didn't think he would be too upset with me. Maybe it's crazy that I can feel myself beginning to trust him. I know he was shitty to me to begin with. But I just- I know he's good; he reminds me of a superhero, like someone who you know is going to save the day in the end. Not that he can save me. But he's got this laugh that sounds like it could cure cancer. And the way he looks at me sometimes, with concern etched into the wrinkles of his forehead. Sometimes, I even think it's more than that. I think, sometimes, that he cares about me. That's probably my craziest thought of all. But I care about him, even though I wish I wouldn't. The butterflies that for so long were exclusive to Percy- they beat for Jason too.

We pull into the parking lot of a cozy little shop. A bell rings as we open the door. When we get up to the counter, Reyna asks, "What do you want? I'm paying."

I try to protest, but she's more stubborn than I am. She silences me, and so I ask for a hot apple cider; coffee, with all of the sugar and cream and everything they put in it, is too much for me. She orders it, along with a mocha for herself. We then sit down at a table in the back corner.

"You know, I'm not sure why we even have school today, seeing as we finished the last of our finals yesterday," she says.

I shrug, tapping my fingers against the table. "I still have a presentation to do in English. In the rest of my classes we're just watching movies."

She crinkles up her nose. "I've always hated presentations. I take it you do too?"

I nod- just thinking about it makes me want to run away again. I am calmer now, but I still have a lot of nervous energy. And I know it'll all come back when I get to school. "I'd think you'd be good at them, though," I say.

She shakes her head. "I mean, maybe I am, but I still stress about them weeks before they even happen. You're lucky you've got Jason, though. He's a natural at that."

"Yeah, what isn't he good at?" I say before I can stop myself.

She laughs. "One of life's greatest mysteries. You know, I used to have the biggest crush on him."

A barista interrupts, coming to set our drinks down before us.

"You? But aren't you-"

"Gay?" She finishes for me. "No, I'm pansexual. And in case you don't know, that means I like people of any gender. It does not mean that I have sex with pans."

I have to struggle not to spit out the first sip of my drink. "Oh- I- Uh- I didn't think…" I must look pretty alarmed, because she laughs.

She considers what she wants to say next, as if she knows what it is, but she's not sure if she should say it. "I used to like Percy, too. I guess we have similar taste?"

This time I do spit out my drink. As I wipe it off the table with a napkin, I say something along the lines of, "What are- I don't-"

Am I really that obvious? First Hazel, now Reyna. Who else knows? And if they know that, what else do they know about me?

"Relax," she says, though amused. "They don't know- they're both as thick as walls. Piper's the one who picked up on it, and she's like a love expert."

"You won't tell?"

"Nope. Your secret's safe with me," she says, as she pretends to swear on a Bible.

"Oh, well, um- Thanks," I say, awkward.

There's a break in the conversation. I try to busy myself in my drink but there's a question that's been on my mind all week.

"But he's not… He likes girls?"

She considers the question. "To be completely honest, none of us really know."

"Um, what?"

"We know he does like girls. He pined after Piper for a long time before he knew that he had no chance, but he's over that now. Whether he likes boys… we don't know. He doesn't really fall for anyone very often. But, on the bright side, he has shown an unusual interest in you…"

I stutter, trying to come up with something, but end up staring at her open-mouthed. She smiles at me.

"You could always ask him."

"Uh, yeah, not going to happen."

She laughs. "I figured."

There's another break in the conversation as we both finish the last of our drinks. She studies me, and I train my eyes to look anywhere but at her.

"Will you be okay to go back to school?-"

I nod.

"-because I can take you home if you want."

I shake my head, even though I wish she would. Nobody's home right now, and I'd have the place to myself. But I can't abandon Jason. And even though I think that, with Jason's help, I did well on my Algebra 2 and Bio finals, maintaining an A in English will really help my GPA.

I can see that Reyna doesn't quite believe me, but she wants to. She doesn't want to think I'm as bad as I seem to be. So she accepts it. We finish our drinks and pile back into her truck. Jingle Bells is playing, and it's starting to rain again, and my heart hammers the entire way there.

We arrive just as the bell rings, telling to students to change from their third period classes to their fourth.

As I'm about to walk away from Reyna, she grabs my hand and pulls out a pen. She writes down a number.

"Call me if you need me."

I have to blink back tears as I walk to class, though I'm not sure why. Now there are two people who it seems are willing to go out of their way to help me. Well, unless you count Hazel and Percy, and, because I'm still frustrated with them, I don't, even though I know I should.

When I get to Mr. Brunner's classroom I sit down next to Jason; everyone's sitting by their partners. He smiles at me.

"I almost thought you weren't coming," he says.

"I don't say anything. I can't say anything. I think I might throw up if I try.

Mr. Brunner speaks, but I don't hear most of it. The world feels like a movie on mute, and in slow motion. I don't realize that he calls Jason and me to go first until the whole class turns and looks expectantly at us. Jason gets up, and I just stay there, frozen. I can't, I can't, I can't.

Jason looks down at me, worried. "C'mon, Nico."

I get up slowly. I can feel 20 pairs of eyes on me. 20 pairs of eyes burning into me, searching me, leaving me bare. I am left with nothing but fear. My face is burning and my bones are made of jelly. The world around me feels unreal. It takes all of my concentration to take a step to words the room.

It takes much less to turn and run out the door.

Running is the only think I can do right.

Running and hiding.

But familiar footsteps follow. Jason. He refuses to let me disappear, like I should have done long ago.

I collapse against a wall because I don't have enough oxygen to run anymore, but it doesn't help. It doesn't help, it doesn't help, it doesn't help. There is not enough air in the world. My breathing becomes shallower and shallower and I feel myself growing increasingly faint.

Jason kneels down in front of me but doesn't touch me, because he knows better, but I almost wish he would. I wish he would because he is real and his touch is real and I feel like I'm made of nothing but smoke.

His voice is calm even though I can tell that he is not. "Nico, you need to breathe."

But I can't, so he helps me.

I breathe in and hold it while he counts to ten.

In. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

In.

Out.

After a few minutes of this, a sense of calm settles over me, and then fatigue; panic is exhausting. Panic is your body using its every last resource to keep you alive. It's only a problem when you're panicking in normal situations. Then comes the anger, mainly at myself. For being such a fuck up. Then, of course, comes the shame. Overwhelming shame, crashing over me in waves.

Jason interrupts my thoughts, coming to rest beside me on the wall. "You have social anxiety." He says this as-a-matter-of-factly, which seems unfair to me. He can know that and say that without ever knowing what's going on in my head.

But I just not.

"Fuck, you should have told me, man," hr says, but seems to change his mind. "I should have realized. He punches the ground, and I whimper. I should feel like an idiot for getting so scared; I'm acting like a child. But I'm worn out.

I'm worn out, Jason is close, and he feels like home. I want to lean in to him and let him shelter me. But something stops me. We stay like that, shoulder to shoulder, for a while, until Mr. Brunner comes out to talk to us. Jason jumps to his feet, but I remain sitting.

"You should have told me," he tells me, just like Jason did, and it makes me want to scream. Maybe I should have. But don't they ever stop to realize that that's part of the issue? I can't ask for help. I don't ever want to let myself need somebody else.

"I'm always willing to make exceptions for students with severe social phobias. I'm going to leave this project out on your report cards, but I expect you to come in to me during lunch on the first day back from break and do it for me."

Jason nods, and I remain motionless, staring at the floor. "Thank you, Mr. Brunner, he says."

Then Mr. Brunner wheels himself back into the classroom. Jason reaches out his hand to help me up.

I take it.

He calls Reyna and she signs herself out from class, which she can do, given as she's 18, and meets us in the parking lot. She drives us to my house without asking any questions. She waits in the car while Jason walks me inside.

I sit down on the stairs, feeling like I could pass out at any second.

"C'mon, Nico, you can't just stay there."

I groan in response.

He sighs. "Get on my back. I'll carry you upstairs."

Because my defenses have already been weakened, I do as he says. He carries me swiftly and effortlessly to my room, helps me shrug off my soaking sweatshirt, and tucks me into my bed.

I drift off almost instantly.