Before the Morning [BEING EDITED]

36 | Another Cold Pizza

Nolan had always hated the first day of school, but this year's was particularly awful.

From the moment his eyes opened, it was all he could do not to throw up. He couldn't do it. He couldn't run into Nora and their friends in the halls. He couldn't sit at his picnic table, eat his pizza, and pretend she wasn't sitting just a few feet away, actively hating him. Just the idea of it...

He locked his jaw, opened Greeley High's entrance door, and stepped into the lobby.

The thrall of students walking to and fro or standing idly by was already too much. He winced against the noise, the stimulus, and headed straight for the stairwell. The Senior classes were on the same floor as the Juniors, so he wouldn't have much trouble—

The stairwell door opened, and he spun in the opposite direction.

"Nolan?"

He forced himself to keep a steady pace. He didn't hear Andy's call. He was just walking to class.

"Nolan!" Max yelled. "Hey, dude!"

He kept walking. Just walk. Don't think. Walk.

But the sickness was clawing at his stomach. He was doing it again: deserting without saying goodbye. But what else was he supposed to do?

Don't think.

He reached the next available stairwell and pounded up them. Thinking was too much. He wished his mind was blank, like an unused memory card.

His first class: English. Nathan had said he would like Mrs. Truly, and had assured him she wasn't the kind of person who pressured people into answering when they didn't raise their hands.

He reached the hall, and as he made his way to room 311, he scanned the area, searching and fearing any hint of a certain face.

Her steely eyes boring into him, fury wiping out their warmth.

When he saw her again, what would her eyes look like?

He slowed as he approached room 311. He reached the door—

And stopped midway into the room, hovering half in the hallway, half inside the classroom. His grip on his backpack, already taut, tightened. No.

Nora gaped at him from her seat near the back. She was there. Why was she there? No. Don't do this.

He shifted his feet and found the floor. Scattered dirt ruined the newly cleaned linoleum.

He glanced up. She'd looked away, clenched jaw aimed at a crumpled piece of paper.

His stomach dropped. Huh. He hadn't thought it could drop any further.

He dragged himself across the room, as far as the desks would allow. There was still a seat in the back. Not the last row, but the second to last. The metal legs scratched against the floor as he tugged out the chair and dropped into it. He set his bag on the floor and raked a hand through his hair.

Her eyes weren't steel. They were worse—fiery, with no hope of forgiveness in sight.

And who says you deserve forgiveness?

✝

Nolan almost ate lunch in the cafeteria. He would have, too, if he'd found an empty table or booth. But by the time he emerged from the lunch line, everyone seemed to have claimed a spot.

So, outside it was.

Nora was already outside when he arrived. He trained his gaze on his picnic table, determined to pretend it was the only thing that existed.

The clatter of his tray against pine made him wince. The volume of the world seemed to be cranked up to a hundred today. Even the softest of breaths made his cheek twitch.

He poked at his pizza, but couldn't bring himself to pick it up. No appetite.

"What are you doing?"

He tensed and looked up. Andy's eyebrows shot upward. He had a tray of his own in his arms, but had selected chicken nuggets instead of pizza. A respectable choice. "Hey," Nolan said.

"Table's over there, No-No." Andy nodded toward Nora, who was poking at her own food, fist against her cheek. "You coming?"

So, she hadn't told them anything. "Not today," he said. He gave Andy a polite smile. "Sorry. Thanks for asking, though."

Andy's eyebrows creased. "You okay?"

"Fine."

Andy narrowed his eyes, but nodded. "Okay. If you change your mind, you know where to find us." With a playful punch to the shoulder, he was gone, dropping his tray across from Nora's and taking his seat.

"You know where to find us." Nora had said something so similar when she first invited him to their table. Had she tried to tear that memory to pieces, to undo it all in her mind?

He picked up his slice off pizza. It was cold, but he didn't care.

✝

The apartment was silent as he trudged through the kitchen, his bag hanging off one shoulder.

All he wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep until graduation. No more roaming the halls, praying Andy or Max or Erin or Nora would pop up out of nowhere and send him reeling. Just 174 days of bliss.

Down the hall, to his bedroom. His door clicked shut.

And just like that, all of the pain, the anger, the guilt bubbled to the surface. He flung his bag across the room. It whacked his window and collapsed onto a pile of abandoned clothes.

Abandoned.

He slid to the floor and pressed his face into his knees. His shoulders shook as tears slid down his cheeks. How long had he been resisting the urge to cry?

She hates me.

He cried harder. He was being torn to shreds, his stomach screeching, fighting the entire way.

And why shouldn't she?

She'd trusted him, and he'd lied to her. Betrayed her. His intentions didn't matter, not really. He'd hurt her.

His next sob escaped as a scream. He'd hurt her.

The idea of it, the implications of it, refused to download. She was in pain, and it was his fault. I'm so sorry.

Knock it off.

He pressed his fists against the back of his neck. The stern order in his head did little to stop the deep ache inside him.

He knew today was going to be hard. It was a day he'd been dreading since Nora left his apartment. But this...this was unbearable.

Help. He shot a teary look at the ceiling. Help me.

He struggled to take a deep breath. His gaze landed on his camera bag, abandoned next to his bureau.

He wiped his eyes. Tears continued to blur his vision as he got to his feet and grabbed his camera bag.

He sat on his bed, legs crossing as he dropped the bag in front of him. He wiped his eyes again.

She wouldn't want it anymore. She wouldn't want anything to do with anything he touched.

He dished his laptop out from under his bed and turned it on. Password in, Final Cut Pro X opened, he opened the camera bag and pulled out his camera.

So many memories attached to such a simple thing. His parents last moments had been stored here. Some of his last good moments with Nora. So much good, so much pain, all wrapped into one.

He popped out the memory card. And then he got to work.