Chapter Nine

Icouldn"t sleep last night. This time fear had nothing to do with me being restless. It was Donovan. My Doni. When I woke up this morning, I was afraid it was all a dream, that last night never happened.

Mom was working overtime, so I was home alone. Anxiety and excitement were bubbling out of me. I was dying to tell someone, so I sent a text message to Tia as I sat in my car in the school"s parking lot, waiting for the bell to ring.

Me: Hey. I have some news 2 tell U.

Tia: *Sad Emoji* *Happy Emoji* *Angry Emoji* ???

Me: *Happy Emoji*

Tia: ?Dímelo!

Me: Later today. Promise. *Kisses Emoji*

Tia: Ugh!!! Finnnnnne! *Kisses Emoji*

Laughing to myself, I tuck my phone in my backpack. Tia knows all about Doni, especially after learning whose house she lives in. She knows how much he meant to me, and we shared the same nightmare. She filled the void that Doni left. I know it"s not his fault. He was just a kid. Though I'm still trying to understand why his mom told him I was dead. What kind of parent does that to their own kid? I thought she loved me. She always treated me as if I was one of her own. She even used to say I was like a daughter she never had. There has to be a reason.

Thinking about him makes me nauseous. I had to take four tabs of Alka-Seltzer before school just to calm the pains in my stomach. I make my way out of the car and into the building. Seb and Gio are leaning against my locker as I walk down the hallway.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask once I reach my locker.

"What do you mean?" Gio asks.

I turn the lock until the locker opens. "Why are you at my locker and not in class?" I take a quick glance at them.

Seb snorts and Gio huffs.

"What?" I ask in annoyance.

They don't respond.

God, they're being a pain in my ass today.

"I hate you." I toss my backpack and jacket in the locker and grab the books I need for the first three periods.

"No, you don't. You love me," Gio says in a cocky tone.

I roll my eyes, and a deep chuckle vibrates in his chest..

"We were worried about you." I peek over and notice Seb leaning back against the locker beside me with both hands tucked into his jean pockets and one foot propped against the locker.

"How are things at home?" Seb asks, turning to face me.

"Good." I slam my locker shut. "I"ve survived this long." I start to walk away with both boys flanking on my side.

"Yeah, that's my point. What happens when there won"t be a next time?" Gio catches up to me with his tone full of apprehensiveness.

Seb hisses and swears under his breath.

Ever since they found out about my secret, they have been non-stop checking on me. It's sweet, but not necessary. There's nothing they can do about it. I just have to survive until graduation.

I stop in the middle of the hall while the rest of the students walk around us. "I"m fine, really. Please don"t worry about me. I love how much you guys want to look after me" —I give both guys a kiss on the cheek— "but I'm fine."

"We"re always worried about you, Reina. Don"t you forget that." Seb tugs on my curls and gives me a tight hug.

"Come on, we"ll walk you to class," Gio says with one hand on my lower back. That's the other thing—they never leave my side as if my dad is going to suddenly appear at my school. Just the other day,

Gio was standing outside the girl's bathroom. If I didn't lock the door, he would've come into the bathroom and sat on the counter waiting while I took a piss.

"Mercedes?" No one calls me by my full name, not even Mom when she's pissed off. Glancing behind me, a tall slim woman dressed in a black and white pantsuit stands there. Her golden blond hair is pulled up in a bun. She adjusts her black frame glasses, glancing over to my guys.

"Sadie," I correct her.

"I"m sorry?" she asks in confusion.

"Sadie is my nickname. I prefer Sadie," I explain.

"Of course. My name is Katherine O"Brien, but you can call me Kat. I am the new career advisor. Can you please walk with me?" She senses my hesitation to follow her.

"It won't take long, I promise." She steps to the side and holds out her arm, gesturing for me to follow her.

"Ok." I turn to face the guys. "I"ll see you later." They nod and walk away.

Kat doesn"t ask any questions or make small talk as we walk to her office. I prefer that anyway. I don"t like to talk much. Well, therapy is different. There I"m forced to talk about my life and find ways to cope with the pile of shit I'm buried under.

Kat"s office has a warm ambiance. It"s more personal and quainter with more light than the other offices.

"So," Kat says while gesturing for me to take a seat in front of her desk. "How is your senior going so far?"

"It's going ok, I guess." My knee bounces up and down. I don"t understand what it is about counselors and therapists that makes me nervous.

"Relax, Sadie." Kat chuckles. She sits back against her chair, crosses her legs, and studies me like she"s trying to figure me out.

"I"m glad to hear that." She uncrosses her legs, sits forward, and opens a dark maroon folder, which I presume is my file. "I see you excelled in many of your classes, including English, biology, history, and art. And you're currently enrolled in a few AP classes. Have you thought about what you want to do after you graduate?"

"The photography program at the school of arts."

"That"s great. What about a backup plan?" She stands up and walks over to a circular table with a Keurig machine and ceramic coffee mugs. While she brews a cup of coffee, I ask in confusion, "A backup?" Why would I want to have a backup when being a photographer is my passion?

"Yes, it"s important to have more than one career choice. You want to avoid being stuck in a rut if your first plan fails. Life can be unpredictable. You can never be too careful with your career plans." She pours cream and sugar into her coffee and walks back toward her desk.

"I guess I never thought about it. Is that what you did? Did you have more than one choice?"

"Yes. I wanted a career in radio broadcasting at first, but unforeseen circumstances forced me to choose a different path." Kat sips her coffee and casually leans back in her chair. "As I said, life is unpredictable."

"Do you regret it?" I'm scared to ask. Why? I guess because I have so many regrets. It doesn"t take long before she responds.

"No, I do not regret my decision," she says and smiles proudly.

Changing the subject, she asks, "What about schools? Have you thought about which schools you would like to attend? Have you started applying yet?"

This is the conversation I wanted to avoid. Knowing financially, I can"t afford to go to any school, including community college, freaks the hell out of me. I desperately want to leave my old life behind and start anew.

"My first choice is the Art Institute in Chicago, but I"ve thought about NY Institute or Yale. I haven"t applied yet because, you know, money is an issue." I don"t know why talking about this makes me feel ashamed that I can"t afford to attend a prestigious college when I have a 4.0 GPA.

"It"s called financial aid or a scholarship, Sadie. Your writing skills are impeccable. I was told you were asked to write a strong scholarship essay." She pulls out a blue packet labeled Financial Aid Applications. She hands me the folder and says, "Fill out these applications and turn them in by the end of this week. The sooner we can send these out, the better." Taking the packet from her, I flip through the pages. Anxiety starts to take over me. Each form requires a parent's signature since I'm underage.

Is this the universe's way of saying I'm screwed either way? Kat must notice the apprehension on my face because her hand covers my shaking hand, providing comfort and assurance that everything will work out in the end. Unfortunately, I'm not 100 percent sure about that. If anything, it's the complete opposite.

"Planning your future can be scary, but I will help you through this process. You won't be alone," she reassures me. "I will email you links to the school choices you have selected and some alternatives. You need to keep your options open. Make sure you complete the applications by next Monday." She gives me a wholehearted smile.

I leave her office feeling a mass of overwhelming fear growing inside of me and swallow a giant ball of vomit of fear mixed with angst.