{Wednesday, September 21st}

  I lean back on the sofa I'm currently sitting on, my eyes repeatedly scanning the room as pent up nerves continue to make my left leg bounce.

We're currently waiting in a small office at River High, the school I'll be attending, while we wait for the principal or someone to come fetch me for my 'evaluation test.' Polly and Mack, who met up with us after their classes finished for the day, are sitting on the plush sofa with me while Don and Lucy sit across from us on the other side of the coffee table on a smaller sofa.

Bookshelves sit along the walls, some framed papers, that must have some significance, hanging around. I look to my left, only to find Mack currently stuffing a pencil up his nose while he stares down at it with more concentration than I can say I've ever seen on his face at one time.

Looking further down the sofa, I spot Polly blinking incredulously at Mack a few times before she refocuses back down on the book she's occupying her time with. Probably used to Mack's childish behavior.

Flicking my gaze to the right, my eyes land on Lucy, who's currently crocheting what looks like a mitten, eyebrows pulled up in worry. Something in my chest shifts uncomfortably as I look Don, who's reading a magazine, over, and I can't help but lower my gaze back down to the coffee table.

The events of yesterday evening all flood back to the front of my mind, causing my cheeks to momentarily heat in embarrassment.

Such a failure. You lost it right in front of him.

I fist my hands together at my sides, digging my nails into my skin.

I did lose it. I acted like a baby. I tried to keep it together, but.....it just all piled up. It coiled tighter and tighter, until I couldn't hold it anymore. Maybe if he hadn't of touched me, restrained me like he did, I would've been able to merely shake it off.  Hidden it away.

But that didn't happen. And now, now I just feel like a even bigger fool. A fool that agreed to go back to a head shrink.

"I'm trying to understand here, Alex."

Don's words float inside my head, reverberating in my ears.

Understand? He wants to understand? How am I supposed to help him understand when I don't even understand myself?

Lost cause. Hopeless.

I almost jump when something suddenly touches my left knee, applying a small amount of pressure to make my leg still. My gaze swing up to instantly be met with the optimistic face of Mack, the pencil resting back on the table next to the cup filled with multiple more for anyone's use.

I feel bad for whoever uses that next time.

"Chill, Alex." Mack moves his hand back to his side. "It's not even a real test. They're just evaluating what grade they should put you in." He reminds me. Polly nods next to him, glancing up at me from her book.

I swallow the lump in my throat, looking down again as my right hand begins to absentmindedly pick at the sling on my left arm.

"I know."

He knows, they know, even I know. Yet somehow I can't push the bundle of nerves and worry away in my chest, the slightly sick feeling away in my stomach. It has to be more than that....doesn't it?

Nothing's ever as easy as it seems.

I blow a tight breath slowly out from my mouth, not missing the way my throat seems to be slowly growing tighter the longer I wait.

It's just a evaluation exam for school. Nothing more.

Or so you think.

The icy block in my chest expands, and I unconsciously lift my left hand up to rub it. My eyes flicker back up to the clock hanging on the wall, and I feel a drop of sweat run down the side of my forehead.

5:10 P.M.

My attention snaps over to the door in the far wall as it abruptly opens, everyone else doing the same. A man in what looks to be his late fifties stands in the doorway, a slightly tired and indifferent expression splattered across his face as his gaze slowly scans the group.

"Don, Lucy." He greets, conforming my suspicions about them already knowing each  other. He bypasses Mack, who's back to sticking pencils where they shouldn't go, giving Polly a nod in greeting.

Then his gaze settles on me.

I can't help but tense up, my heart unexpectedly picking up in my chest.

"Alex Rider." He steps back, signaling only one thing. I swallow, nervously glancing between everyone as I slowly stand to my feet. I carefully avoid Don's sharp gaze that's glued to me, lowering my eyes down to the ground before I begin my walk towards the man.

He closes the door behind me, giving me one more once over before walking up the long deserted hall. His skeptical gaze makes me feel like he's already decided I'm going to be another problem child for the school.

Gee, thanks.

River High basically looks like any average high school. The population currently attending is somewhere in the mid hundreds, as I've been told, though today I've yet to see more than maybe ten.

Though I guess arriving after school hours would be the cause of that.

"I'm Mr. Garner by the way, Alex." He peaks back at me with a raised eyebrow. "It is Alex, correct?" He questions, making me decide he does actually, maybe, care about his students if he's actually taking the effort to get their names right.

"Yes, sir." I reply, raising my voice just enough for him to hear me from the five foot gap between us.

He walks a few yards further down the hall before stopping at a classic classroom door marked: B4. Twisting the knob, he opens the door, holding it open for me to walk in. I walk in, pausing a few feet after I pass him.

He shuts the door, immediately heading over to the large, obviously the teacher's, desk to the right of the room. I walk up so I stand in front of it, my right hand back to picking the loose string on my sling.

Mr. Garner ruffles through a stack of papers before pulling a pamphlet out. He lifts his gaze up to mine, and I carefully avoid it while he holds the pamphlet out to me.

"Just take a seat wherever you want." He waves his empty hand out towards the rows of desks. "This isn't timed, but that doesn't mean you can sit here for hours." He takes a seat, signaling that he's done talking.

Blunt much?

I turn around, holding the pamphlet up at my torso. Walking down the middle row, I take a seat somewhere in the middle, purposely picking one that doesn't align with one of the many glass windows to my left.

Taking in a shaky breath, I flip the pamphlet open, grinding my jaw as a flurry of nerves start up in both my stomach and chest. I pull my sling off from my shoulder, stuffing it in the pocket of my hoodie.

Gripping the pencil with my right hand, I hover it over the first sheet of paper, the words all blurring together the instant I look down at them.

It's just homework. I can do this.

*Time Skip*

I sit hunched over the desk top, my pencil tapping against the side of my head as I stare down at the math paper before me.

The numbers and letters all start to swirl together, and a sudden bout of nausea hits me.

So far it's been a solid hour I've been sitting here. I've written a small, and pretty simple, seven paragraph paper, and I've completed twenty out of the forty pages of math and algebra problems.

My worst subject.

I grind my teeth together, wincing as my stomach twists uncomfortably again. My head feels warm, too warm for comfort.

I should know these answers. They're relatively simple in all honesty. But combine the fact I haven't been in school for over six months, albeit I did study some, and that my stomach is having a all out war with my intestines while my nerves keep me on high alert and cause my chest to feel like it's slowly getting crushed, it all makes it a little distracting.

Alright, come on. Focus.

My knee bounces as my foot taps the ground while my left hand repeatedly runs through my hair. I glance up at the clock again, feeling my throat constrict.

Failure.

My jaw locks in place, and I blow a slow breath out through my nose as my eyes stay glued to the desk top.

   Why do you even try?

Negative one times negative four equals four, and negative one times 2i equals negative 2i.

You'll only disappoint everyone.

I close my eyes, breathing deeply as I try to block the unwanted voice from my mind. My hand clinches around the pencil, and I fight the urge to snap it in half.

6i Times negative four equals negative 24i, and 6i Times 2i equals 12i squared, which then equals-

"I'm closer than you think."

I almost jump out of my chair at the sound of Razim's voice, my eyes snapping up to the right corner of the room.

Nothing. It's empty.

I take a slow breath, feeling my heart thump against my ribcage. I run a shaky hand through my hair, bringing my gaze back down to my paper.

Someone clears their throat across the room. "Alex, is everything alright?" Mr. Garner's voice questions.

I don't bother with looking up, nodding my head in answer to his question. I stare at the paper, seeing it but not actually comprehending it. The clock hanging on the wall abruptly grows louder as my nerves spike, each second sending a jolt through my overly tense body.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.....

Dropping the pencil down on the desk, I rub both hands over my face a few times. The air in the room seems to grow heavier, the ticking sound growing louder in my ears.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick....

I suddenly feel like I've been dropped down a steep hill on a roller coaster. All the air evaporates from my lungs, my mouth and throat going dry as my heart accelerates to the point I almost think it's about to burst out. One thought runs through my head as my stomach violently rolls.

I'm going to be sick.

My anxiety skyrockets as I realize the unavoidable, my wide eyes snapping up to search the room, lungs squeezing painfully in my chest.

I don't even realize I'm up until I'm suddenly halfway up the row of desks, my right arm up around my twisting stomach. I witness Mr. Garner's surprised expression before I'm jerking the door open, practically sprinting out of the room.

Fear and dread ball up in my chest, causing it to grow tighter, as I take in the empty halls, my mind racing as I work to keep the vomit down. My throat burns as I run down a hallway towards the nearest exit door, and I feel my eyes and face grow warm in embarrassment.

Such a failure. Running out like that. What're they going to say?

I don't have time to mull that thought over because I'm suddenly bursting through the exit doors, the fresh, early autumn air washing over my burning skin.

Then I'm falling into the grass before I empty my lunch out.

~~~~
Mack's (POV)

"Come to me, my pencil." I close my eyes, holding my hand out before me like I've seen all the Jedi's do in the movies, waiting to feel the thin piece of wood make contact with my hand.

Nothing happens.

"You're not serious, are you?"

I crack an eye open at the question, giving Polly a annoyed glare. If a one eye glare can be intimidating.

"Be quiet, pheasant. I'm trying to conquer my Jedi mind tricks. One can't concentrate with all this mindless jabbering." I close my eye, scrunching my face in concentration.

Five seconds go by and I suddenly find I'm making noises, with my mouth of course, as I strain a little too hard.

"Two things. One; it's peasant, Not pheasant. Look it up in a dictionary, Einstein. Two; would you please quit it. To put it shortly, you sound like you're in the middle of taking a very unpleasant bathroom trip." Polly practically deadpans, effectively breaking my concentration.

"Buzzkill." I discreetly mutter, opening my eyes back up. Polly gives me a glare before returning her attention back down on her Jurassic Park book she's currently reading.

But speaking of....

I stand up, stretching my back and arms out while yawning. "I'll be back in a minute. Duty calls." I smirk, saluting Don and Lucy as I pass them. Opening the door, I shut it behind me as I make my way towards the restroom.

Geez, when's Alex going to be done? It's been, what? An hour already? Isn't that long enough to-

I cut my thoughts off as I suddenly catch sight of said person.

Only he's currently running down the opposite hall towards the exit doors, looking like the building's on fire.

I stare after him, blinking a few times. Then I'm running down the hallway, passing a perturbed Mr. Gas-I mean, Garner on the way.

"I've got him." I yell back at him, not breaking stride. Alex disappears out the doors, and I speed up. Five seconds later, I'm at the doors myself, not even hesitating before I exit from the exit doors.

Ha, funny.

I'm immediately greeted with the sight of Alex on his hands and knees, his back facing me as he, very unpleasantly, empties his stomach's contents onto the freshly cut grass.

I have to force my gag reflexes back at the sight, my right arm automatically moving to curl around my torso, much like how Alex has his at the moment.

His back moves as he dry-heaves once he's emptied everything out, his right hand digging into the ground as his left seems to tighten around his stomach.

I move forward, crouching down next to him. "Alex." I say his name to let him know who's here, then I find myself placing a hand on his arched back, slowly moving it up and down like what Lucy and Mom do whenever I'm sick.

Only I don't think he has the stomach bug.

His left arm trembles as he continues to hover in that one spot, and leaning to the side, I see his eyes are tightly closed as he breathes deeply through his nose, face in a grimace.

I frown at the odd outlines I can feel through the thin material of his hoodie and shirt, a ping of sorrow hitting me.

"It's okay." I practically whisper to him, blowing a slow breath out as questions fill my head.

It'll be okay.

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A/N

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

Okay, so I'm really sorry for the late update. I've just been really busy as of late. Omg! Mack is so ridiculous it's funny. 😂😂

I NEED 26 VOTES BEFORE I UPDATE AGAIN!!

And I hope this time I'll update on time. 🤗

This is my treat to you, happy thanksgiving! 😘

Maggy