Noted

TWELVE

June admits she needs guidance on being nice.

Her friends are catching up on their classes during free period leaving June to mindlessly go over the work she's completed in homeroom. Her focus doesn't stick, though. It trails off to yesterday's behaviour to Christian, and the little voice inside her head questioning whether it was justifiable in reacting the way she did. No matter the internal battle, only one thing is certain from their interaction:

He infuriates her.

She follows the movements of her classmates, reflecting on how she treats each one, and comes to the conclusion that they are, at its simplest format, all individuals who she cares little about. Each one of them can have a grudge against her and she won't bat an eyelash at them.

But Christian can so much as look her way and her defensive mechanisms will start flaring.

"It's called trauma," a student beside her said, helping his friend with something on their laptop. 

"We've studied this back in term one."

Their friend glared. "Not helping."

"June," comes Micky, dashing to her desk with a grin on his face. He gets looks from members of the class. "June, I have a favour."

Her face twists with complexion. "Do you have to be so chirpy about this favour?" In other words, she thinks, keep it down.

"Prue and I are having a debate about formal—"

"Jesus fuck," she whispered under her breath.

"—But we're conflicted about the idea of matching outfits." His wide hazel eyes tell her everything she needs to know. Still, she waits for him to continue. "On a scale of one to ten, how cringe is it?"

June takes a second to really look at her dear high school friend. "Depends who says it's cringe."

"Prue," he answers.

"Yes, it's cringe."

Micky clicks his tongue. "Biased. The whole lot of you."

"What does it matter to you anyway? It's just an opinion. It shouldn't influence what you think."

Micky takes the empty seat beside her. "Prue wants to wear this floral green ball-gown and I suggested to also one myself. But she's against it because she thinks we'll clash."

June stares at Micky. "The committee hasn't decided what theme formal will be."

"Prue is on the committee."

"Well, Prue needs to tell everyone what the theme is already so these debates can be taken somewhere else."

Micky grins. "You don't care about formal?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I've got a lot on my plate to care about one night. Maybe when a date has been set and the theme is shared I will." June shrugs. "Can't think about something that's not real yet."

Micky nods enthusiastically. "I agree. I'll tell Prue to tell the committee to make up their minds already."

June doesn't get the chance to tell Micky how unnecessary that is, but he leaves the seat with a peace sign and time that June can't get back. She watches him leave the classroom—Mrs Smith not bothering to check where he's off too— and catches a blank-face Zachary walking past with a furious Mrs Nilsson.

Again? June doesn't understand. What's he done this time?

She can't help herself. With burning curiosity leading her out of the classroom, with a quick excuse to Mrs Smith of needing to use the bathroom, Zachary and Mrs Nilsson stop at the nurse's office. It's only then does June see one of Zachary's arm covered in blood.

"Oh."

Mrs Nilsson turns to her. "Do you need to see the nurse as well, June?"

Zachary is escorted inside by the nurse, but just like Mrs Nilsson she waits for an answer.

"Period pains," is the first thing she says, followed by, "My stomach is killing me."