Chapter 11: Boys and Mental Breakdowns

- Taylor's POV -

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Strangely, my tiredness wore off soon after I gave the smiley guy his extremely caffeinated drink. In fact, it was like I drank one myself—I experienced a rush of adrenaline that felt almost like caffeine. Interesting, I thought as I drove to school. Wish I could do that on call.

I stepped out of my car and grabbed my backpack. Someone rolled down the window of the car beside me. “Hey sexy,” Jamie piped up from inside. “Mind if I join you?”

I smiled. “By all means.”

“How’s your day going?” she asked, swinging her backpack over her shoulder as we left the parking lot.

“Well…” I told her about the nightmares and my lack of sleep. She hugged me sympathetically while we walked.

“You poor thing. I’m so sorry.”

Shrugging, I smiled at her. “It’s not your fault. It happens.”

Jamie shoved me. “When people say ‘I’m sorry’ in response to something that happened to you, it’s called sympathy, not an apology!”

I laughed, holding up my hands in my defense. “My bad! I have been educated. Now I know."

We giggled together. On that train of thought, Jamie and I began talking about our strange dreams.

“Mind if I join the conversation?” asked a new, deep voice. We turned to find the source, and there stood one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen.

I had to look up to see his eyes—he was taller than me, with eyes of a bright blue-green that reminded me of the ocean. He ran his fingers through his short dark brown hair and smiled. I blinked.

Jamie elbowed me in the ribs and I wheezed and realized I had stopped walking. We jogged a few steps to catch up with the guy.

“Are you Taylor Manning?” the newcomer asked. Pointedly, Jamie looked at me.

“That’s me,” I clarified. “Am I in trouble?”

“Nah.” He laughed. “Not at all. I’m Henry, by the way. I’ve heard a little bit about you.”

“Oh?” I hoisted my backpack up higher on my back. “You sure I’m not in trouble?”

“Definitely. You’re safe.” Henry smiled at me and I felt something inside me jump. Weird feeling.

Jamie looked from me to Henry and back again. “Should I leave…?”

“No please stay,” I said hurriedly. I shot her a look, to which she nodded and wiggled her eyebrows. I slightly rolled my eyes.

We walked in silence for a few steps. “So, what classes are you taking?” Henry asked.

“I’m in World History 112, Calculus, English 112, and Programming,” I replied.

“Hey, I’m in World History 112 too,” Henry exclaimed. “What teacher?”

“Jones, Monday Wednesday Friday from 10 till 10:55.”

“Nice. I have Jones but on Tuesday and Thursdays. The longer section.” He grimaced.

“No way! I really don’t like the Prof, he’s finicky and makes us write too much.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, he’s pretty annoying.” Henry and I laughed. “What classes do you have today?”

“Hmm…” I tapped my chin. “I’m losing track of the days. It’s Friday, right?”

“Yep.”

“I have Programming, Calculus, and obviously World History.”

Henry raised his eyebrows. “Mostly techy.”

“I’m a STEM minded girl,” I said, shrugging. “What classes do you have today?"

“Let’s see…Astronomy, Sociology, and Spanish.”

“Neat. Astronomy sounds cool.”

“It really is.”

Just then, I realized that Jamie had left and I was nearly to class. “Hey, can I catch you later? Class is going to start soon and I don’t want to be late.”

“Sure,” Henry said. He paused and locked eyes with me. He had to look down. “Wanna eat lunch with me?”

I almost choked, but turned it into a cough. “S—Sure.”

“I usually eat outside, right next to the flower beds out front of the Kennethson building. Sound good?”

Quickly recovering, I nodded. “Sounds great. See you then!”

“I look forward to it.” Henry smiled at me. My heart did a funny flip again.

We separated and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I don’t like the way he makes me feel, I decided. I feel…weird. All fluttery. Wrong.

Sitting down at a desk in the Programming classroom, I set my bag down beside me and logged into the computer. Time to get to work.

Class began. I took notes and squinted at the screen when the professor introduced some difficult material. Half an hour into class, I was typing in some bullet points when suddenly I was hit by a wave of emotion. It was so strong that it took immense effort not to lean back in my chair from its intensity. A terrible sadness washed over me; I blinked, and a tear rolled unbidden down my face. I was crying in the middle of class. I’m crying in the middle of class, I sobbed inwardly. There is no good reason for me to be crying in the middle of class. Why am I crying in class?!

As quietly as I could, the tears still coming, I stepped over people’s legs and excused myself from class. I tried to keep my head down so no one could see my makeup running. I was sure it had to be running; there was no way it couldn’t be. I practically dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door to a stall.

I sat down on the seat and cried. I felt desperately crushed, like someone I knew had died. Adding confusion to that made me a complete mess.

“Why…the heck,” I wailed, “am I…crying?! Nothing…is wrong, I’m fine, nothing is bad, life sucks but that’s normal, why did I start crying in class?"

I did all I could to stop the tears—I measured my breathing, I closed my eyes and concentrated on a happy memory, I held my breath, but still they came. I cried and cried. It seemed like ages before I began to slow to a stop.

Stepping out of the stall, I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a mess. My mascara had run all down my face. I grabbed some paper towels, taking shuddering breaths, and wiped off the black streaks. “Now, Taylor,” I told myself as I applied more mascara from my backup bag. “Take a chill pill. Nothing is wrong. You’re not sad. You’re fine. Concentrate on the programming, which you’ve so helpfully missed a large bit of, and you’ll be fine. Just concentrate.”

I took a large gulp of water from the sink, squared my shoulders, and strode with purpose out of the bathroom.

I forced myself to be extra attentive during the rest of class. Focusing on something real-life kept my emotions in check, and soon I was making up for all the time I’d lost while crying. When 12:05 struck, I was up and ready for lunch and then my next class.

The moment of crying was not forgotten, though. I tucked it away at the back of my mind, along with the song I didn’t know, the rogue papercut, and the frustration for no reason. Something’s wrong with me, I thought as I walked out of class. And I’m gonna find out what it is without going to the doctor. It’s gotta be a weird side effect of the lightning…

“Hey!” The call came from across the courtyard. I shook myself out of my thoughts and smiled when I saw Henry running up to me. “How was class?”

“It was pretty good,” I answered. I desperately hoped my nose wasn’t red from crying. “We learned some new things…”

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Lunch with Henry turned out to be enjoyable, despite my awkwardness. He was easy to get along with, and made me laugh quite a bit. I learned a little about him and he asked questions about me. We had fun.

I found myself smiling in Calculus as I thought about our lunch. When I caught the smiles tugging at the edges of my lips, I scolded myself.

He’s just really friendly, I told myself firmly. He’s not interested. Curse you for being so shallow. He only met you today! Chill. He. Is. Not. Interested.

But I’ve never had a boyfriend before…

CALM IT!

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(title of chapter is accurate lol)

(btw, college searching is scary, folks)