A/N: Well, if you're reading, can you please review? Uh, please? And… Audrey's not blonde.

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Johnny kept talking and talking, apparently not noticing how my face had slowly transformed into The Scream by Edvard Munch. No really, I actually resembled like the painting. Mouth hanging open, hands clutching at the sides of my face.

I was positively horrified.

It couldn't be! It simply could not be, in every way possible. I must've been… like… hallucinating, or something. Now, instead of flipping, my stomach was in the throes of gnawing queasiness. I groaned audibly and wrapped my arms around my abdomen.

"What? What's wrong with you?" His lips curled as if he was disgusted all of a sudden.

"Er… I'm hungry," I avoided his glance. I didn't want him to look in my eyes and see what I was thinking. I'm pretty sure he's a mind-reader. Don't ask how I know this, I just do.

He looked at me comically. "You're in a restaurant…"

"Yeah. So?"

"Come on, you can figure it out…" He waited for a few seconds, then sighed, clearly displeased. "There's food everywhere, you idiot," It sounded more like a question than a statement.

I scoffed. "Okay then. I don't eat this 'food,' if you haven't already learned that from the burrito incident," I added air quotes on 'food' for dramatic emphasis.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Who do you think you are?" He snapped. This took me aback. My posture went rigid, and my lips set into a firm line. "You discriminate!"

"I- what?"

"Discriminate! You show favoritism towards certain foods, and then, when you are faced with other choices, you judge them before you get to try them!" He upped the volume a bit.

I folded my arms over myself protectively. "This isn't just about food, is it?" I asked cautiously.

"Don't talk crazy. Of course this is about food," He seemed quite agitated now. "Just eat a taco," He suddenly became very calm. Sometimes, when he's not freaking out, he's more or less comatose.

"We're not starting this again are we?" I whined. "I mean, you have no right to judge my eating habits! Look at what you're always eating!"

"What? What am I always eating?!"

"Like…" I was suddenly lost for words. Why was I lost for words? I'm never lost for words. I can't stress this enough. "Like, t-tacos… and, and burritos…" I stumbled, sounding like quite a moron now.

"I never eat tacos," He said lowly, darkly. Such a drama queen.

"Hah. Yeah I'll bet," I turned my head away because I was getting scared of what his face looked like. "You told me that burritos lead to better things… I think what you meant was burritos lead to tacos!"

Johnny's face contorted laughably. "What are you talking about?"

"That's right. J'accuse, monsieur Johnny!" I pointed, then instantly wanted to cringe. Could I get any more trite? "Oh god I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying," I once again surprised at my use of the 's' word. Wow.

He tilted his head slightly, a suspicious look upon his face. "You're acting rather strangely today," He pointed out, and then seemed to have a moment of clarity, as he said, "have the aliens gotten to you?"

I shrugged, keeping my expression calm. "Maybe," I replied, perfectly serious, sedated.

Johnny smiled. He smiled. And then the flippy thing happened again. "Okay, well, listen," I stammered. "I've gotta get back to work because this is my second break today and my boss – her name's Lucy, hah – she's gonna get really pissed off because I've already taken a break today, and, like, she's taking it out of my paycheck so I've gotta go, okay?" I was totally rambling and I knew it. "Okay bye!" I said before he could say anything, and I ran away.

God. I feel sick.

---

I was sprawled out on my bed, pretty much dead, when Jason called. When I heard the phone ring, I got so startled that I fell right on the floor with a high-pitched yelp. I scrambled for the phone. "Hello?" I gasped, my heart beating erratically.

"Hey babe," His baritone voice was smooth and tantalizing, as always. "Can I come over tonight?"

I made myself comfortable on the floor and leaned against my bed. "Uhhh… no," I was still trying to calm myself.

"No?" He sounded shocked.

"Yeah, um, my parents are home tonight. So it's really not a good idea," I swallowed hard, twisting a piece of my newly colored auburn hair.

"What? I thought you parents were in Jamaica?"

"They're leaving tomorrow," I sighed. "Why don't I just go over to your place?"

I could hear him smiling. Really, I could. "Sounds great. See you in fifteen," He hung up without saying anything else. And that was precisely how I liked it. No strings attached, keep it casual, no one gets hurt.

All I had to do in order to get ready was put on some lipstick and mascara, grab a coat, and just walk out. My parents wouldn't ask where I was going, because by now, they'd grown accustomed to my sporadic absences.

That night I was with Jason. Whenever I spend the night with him, I think about nothing but him. Nothing exists but him and me. Ugh. I know, I know, it's totally cheesy. But that's just how it is. It's not so much romantic and loving as it is carnal and obscene.

That night, I was preoccupied. It wasn't Jason.

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I had spent the whole weekend with him. His parents were gone, my parents were gone, and all we did was just have some good old amatory fun. Two and a half days of nothing but alcohol, a few spliffs, and sex. Classic. It eventually helped me get back to my senses. Ironic, isn't it?

Anyway, when Monday rolled around, I was feeling both relaxed and exhausted, still coming down from my incessant 'Jason' high. I came to school looking like a twenty-five-cent hooker. Why? Because I felt like one at that very moment.

In Media Studies, Samantha kept talking about… something. I give generic responses and pretended to care. I felt queasy again. I tried not to think about him. I tried really hard. I did! But then he came into the room, and sat right next to me, and I felt my tummy clench painfully. I rubbed my abdomen absentmindedly, remembering how little real food I had eaten.

I smiled. That's gotta be at least three pounds that I'd lost.

"Isn't it great?" Samantha squealed.

"Oh… yeah, that's fabulous," I sighed, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

"Tired?" She asked.

"Yep," I nodded, eyes still closed.

"Jason?" Her voice was sly.

I just smirked and didn't bother giving her anything else to gossip about. I heard her shuffle about in her seat. "I totally understand. I'll leave you alone to recover," She giggled childishly. My smile faded instantly, mostly due to the revulsion that hit me like a bolt of lightening.

Letting myself float back into a trancelike state, I stopped all and any thoughts of him, and focused on the emptiness in my head. And I thought, 'what if that's all there is? Just emptiness in my head?' and that reminded me of the Philosophy project and, of course, that led to other things.

I felt something prickly but light hit me in the face and I jerked out of my daydream. I looked around the classroom, a rabid look upon my face. Class hadn't started yet since Porter was out of the room, people were chattering flippantly, and Samantha had her back turned to me. I looked down on the ground.

A crumpled up piece of paper lay at my feet. I looked around again, but no one was paying any attention to me. I picked it up, unfolded it, and nearly had an embolism. It was drawing. Of Noodle Boy. The cartoon, not the person.

It had a caption that said, 'Midday Doldrums', and Noodle Boy was exclaiming, 'my god, you're beautiful!' while pointing at some dead thing, probably a dog. My chest felt like someone was sitting on it. I swallowed audibly.

"What the fuck is this?" I turned to Johnny with a straight, somber expression.

He was scribbling in his notebook, and didn't look up, when he said, "What do you think?"

I raised a brow, unsure of what to say. "It's weird," I responded after a short pause.

He kept drawing. The pen was making scratching noises over the paper. I watched him hypnotically. "What about it is so weird?"

I looked at the cartoon again. "It makes no sense. Why's he looking at some dead dog and calling it beautiful?" I scrunched my nose at the picture.

Johnny pierced with an absolutely evil look. "Are you really that stupid? I can't believe it! I can't believe I'm in the presence of such stupidity! Such ignorance! Such-"

"Okay! Jesus fucking Christ, I get it!" I tried to yell at him but my throat was hoarse so it just came out as a gravelly growl. "I just asked you a question, you freak!"

He was about to retaliate when Porter came in and silenced the class. I smashed back into my chair and crossed my arms tightly. "What a little prick," I mumbled to Samantha, gesturing to Johnny. I felt like my brain was alighted with fire.

"Why?" She whispered, leaning closer to hear me.

I showed her the Happy Noodle Boy. "He tossed this at my face and just started cussing at me!" I hissed.

Samantha leaned out away from me. "God, what a freak."

"I know! That's exactly what I said," I huffed, feeling chagrined and trying to seem unmoved. What was his problem? I can't believe I had a stomach-flip for him. What was I thinking? I pursed my lips and frowned. I hated him then. I hated him for being so disrespectful, for being so crazy, and for being so fucking insufferable. I couldn't have a lower opinion of him.

The crumpled picture stayed on my desk until the end of class, when I folded it up neatly, and tucked it into my purse.

---

With the coming of Philosophy class, I was shaking from anxiety, restlessness, and agitation. I couldn't control myself. I had to take a long, long cigarette break before coming to class, which led to the consumption of three cigarettes, one after the other. Usually I smoke about six per day. Today was a fifteen-cigarette day. All my precious Sobranie Black Russians, gone, just like that.

But even that wouldn't calm my nerves. I have Philosophy class with a couple girls: Felicity, Hilary, and Sophia. When I came into class, ten minutes late, after a half-hearted reprimand from Alton, the three of them waylaid me.

"Where were you?" Felicity whacked my arm as I took a seat beside her. "I was saving this seat for you… when you didn't show up I thought you left school. I thought I was gonna have to sit all by myself!"

"Felicity, get a grip. You're always whining," I sniped. Sure enough, she shut her mouth. I turned around in my seat to face Sophia. "What are we doing?"

"Alton gave us another free period to work on the project, but she says this is the last one for sure," Sophia is pretty, but only in that generic 'tall, skinny, blonde, blue eyes' kind of way. What's funny, for me, at least, is how everyone is saying that she thinks she's my competition.

I have no competition.

"Fantastic," I sighed, rolling my eyes dramatically in Johnny's direction. He wasn't paying any attention to me. He was just sitting in the very back of the class, clearly waiting for me to make the first move.

What choice did I have? None, really. So I stood up.

"Wait," Hilary stopped me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…" I looked at her as if she was insane.

"Everyone knows that when something's bothering you, you smoke a lot," She said.

I burst out laughing. "Wow. Yeah, that's weird, huh? A smoker who smokes a lot when bothered," I snorted.

"So what's up?" Felicity asked, her green eyes igniting with interest.

For a moment, I considered just telling them everything. I could do that. I could make them shut up about it, too, so that they doesn't tell anyone else. Besides, telling them wouldn't hurt. It might help me.

I sat back down. "Well…" I looked down at my hands, which were crossed neatly on the desk. "I've been having some peculiar boy problems lately-"

Suddenly they all started laughing. "Oh god, Audrey. 'Peculiar.' I just love how you use those funny words all the time!" Sophia grinned at me as if I was supposed to grin back.

"Right…" I looked to the side. "Never mind," I stood up again.

"No wait! We'll listen this time, we swear," Hilary was still giggling slightly.

"I'm sorry, ladies," I gave them an affable smile that was meant to weakly disguise my disapproval. "I just don't have time for this," I knew exactly how to sound civil and completely vicious at the same time. They quickly became quiet, and I walked away from them.

Johnny looked me up and down once. "Let me guess. You lost your lipstick," He jeered.

"You're an asshole," I said, as-a-matter-of-factly. I pulled up a chair and sat down roughly at his desk. "Stop judging me," I added.

"All right then. I'll humor you," He bent forward onto the desk. "What's the problem?"

I gazed up at him. What would be the harm in telling him? It's not like he has friends to gossip to. Out of the blue, it all just came pouring out of me. "They're all really stupid!" I pointed towards the trio sitting on the other end of the room, eyes wide, voice breathy and desperate. "And I'm not claiming to be Einstein myself, but they're really stupid. I'm smarter than them by a long shot. Sometimes I feel like I'm the stupid one for hanging around these- these morons. Whenever I even try to speak to them, like any normal person, they… like… start laughing at me because they think I use 'funny words.' Funny words! Words that have more than two syllables to them are funny! God!" I ran both hands through my hair in frustration.

"Sometimes I wish that no one existed, you know? I wish that I was the only one so that just for once, just for fucking once, I didn't have to deal with them and all the problems that come attached to them," I paused, and then laughed dryly. "I sound so, like, emo right now. Sorry," I bit my lip and looked down at my hands again.

He just sat there quietly, and then said, "wouldn't that be convenient?" And the stomach-flip came racing back.

---

I glided through the rest of the day, barely noticing anything or anyone, just as I had this morning. Johnny was coming over, again, tonight, to get some extra work done since he'd missed a full week of school. I didn't want to be happy about it. In fact, I wasn't. It wasn't happiness, not by far. It was a sinking, sedating feeling that resonated from my gut, spreading outwards to my fingertips and lower.

I laughed too much, making some people suspect I was high. I vehemently denied it. I spoke like some cheesy eighteenth century poet, and it made people annoyed. I didn't notice. I just laughed whenever someone told me I was acting strange.

I was feeling strange, after all.

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A/N: So… um… yeah, reviewreviewreviewreviereviewwrevirewiwereiwverwieriiverREVIEW. Brainwash much?