I know, I know. Bad Tickgrey. I should have updated a lot sooner, but it's looking like with school and other commitments, I'm only going to be able to update about once a week now. I will, however, try to add more bulk to my one a week updates in the future. This will probably help the story advance a lot better if I'm not having to worry about leaving something left for a chapter the next day. And there will be some weeks where I'll be able to post multiple chapters, but I'm planning on a once a week deal from now on. Thanks for reading! Love always, Tickgrey

My friends and I walked solemnly down to the main hall which had only a few students in it at this hour. The event was to take place in the garden, but we were going to eat some breakfast first, so we proceeded into the dining hall. I was famished, so I piled as much food as I could onto my plate as we walked through the line.

Liz hesitated before saying, "Don't you think you should take it easy on the food today?"

I shot her a confused look as I began to shove waffle bits into my mouth. She rushed to finished seeing my confusion, "Well, in case, you get- I don't know- overcome with emotion or something?"

I shrugged, "I'm trying to move on and this ceremony isn't helping. If I have any emotion today, it'll be irritation or anger."

Poor Liz wasn't expecting such a blunt reply, so she just stared down at her plate dejectedly. She had, apparently, lost her appetite. Macey jumped on me, "Are you sure you aren't using your anger as a coping method?"

"Honestly, Mace, I don't have a clue what you're talking about," I swallowed. "I'm fine."

Obviously, I wasn't totally fine. I was about to betray everything I had been fighting for, but I was fine emotionally I suppose even if my psychological state was a little bit... hazy.

Bex stated, "What she means is, you've been really irritable lately. We think you're taking your anger out on us and even Zach. We're trying to help. Please, let us help!"

I gulped (and not because of the waffles this time). She was right. I had been very irritable with my friends lately, but I merely brushed her off and said, "I don't really want to talk about this now. Not today."

Liz and Macey nodded in understanding. Bex, however, remained resolute, "But we will talk."

"Maybe," I replied ignoring her determination.

She shot back daggers, "That wasn't a question."

After one of the most awkward breakfasts of my life, the friends and I made our way to the garden outside where there were rows of chairs as well as some memorial-type stuff set up. I nearly puked up my breakfast when I saw the giant pictures of my mom hanging near the front podium. Liz noticed and shot me a 'I told you so look' before looking genuinely worried.

"I'm fine," I said before they could ask as I clenched my teeth trying to hold everything back. "Excuse me."

I turned and walked back inside. Liz was right. This whole thing was too much for me. I couldn't bear to see my mom again. Not like this. I pushed through the growing crowds of students and made my way to a corridor that was lined with classrooms. Typically, it would have been buzzing with people even on a Saturday, but today, everyone's attention was elsewhere. I threw myself back-first against the wall and suddenly the tears were back. I had done so well lately about not crying, but suddenly I couldn't contain them anymore. I sunk down into the ground and curled up into a ball on the floor.

"Cammie?" I heard a quiet voice say in the most innocent-sounding Southern accent imaginable.

I looked up. There was Liz. Sweet, beautiful Liz. She must have followed me back inside knowing something wasn't right with me. I managed to get out "Liz" in between sobs.

"Are you okay?" she asked mostly out of the lack of anything else to say. It was pretty obviously that I wasn't okay, but I didn't really mind her asking. I shook my head 'no' and returned to my tears. It wasn't so much a pity party as a full-out gala of sorrow.

She sat down next to me and grabbed my hand. "You don't have to do this alone, you know. We want to help. We want you to feel better again. We just want you to be happy."

I nodded. She wasn't lying. I was the one who was lying to everyone. "Really, I'm okay. At least, I will be okay in a couple of minutes. I just need some time on my own. I'll be right out there."

She nodded sensing my dilemma. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay a few minutes?"

I shook my head once again before returning to my cocoon. I hated shutting everyone out like this, but it had to be done. I had to walk this line alone.

Only when I could be sure that Liz was gone did I finally get up. The tears were real, but I had played it up a little bit. I really wanted to be left alone but in a state that people would understand. No one would question a girl going off to cry at her mother's memorial service. And no one would question that I had found a good place to hide and cry privately.

I looked around to make sure I really was completely alone before slipping into the passageway that I had prepped the night before. I slipped into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before grabbing the backpack and heading out of the passageway leaving my school uniform behind. I no longer had any use for that.

The passage led just outside of the grounds and just beyond the wall. It was a miracle that it was still operational quite frankly. I was relieved to see sunlight when I poked my head out of the tunnel cautiously. There was no one around which was a very good sign. As soon as I got walking, I was just another Roseville resident. There was no way that anyone would be able to pick me out as a Gallagher girl (unless of course if I were to run into Josh which seemed unlikely since he was probably busy or asleep still on a Saturday morning).

I noticed plenty of limos pulling up to the school now. The trustees and other important attendees must have been arriving already. I was quite thankful that I wouldn't have to meet them.

I made my way into Roseville proper before sitting down at a park bench at the prearranged meeting spot. I looked around hoping that Catherine Goode wasn't habitually tardy. To my delight, when I looked up again, there was the woman who had tortured me not even a year before.

She, brimming with confidence, sat down next to me and said, "Another park bench? I hope this isn't becoming a thing."