I sat quietly in my bed, scratching away at one of the pages within my brown leather notebook, recording my thoughts and worries. I do care. I wrote in thin and shaky pencil handwriting. But I don’t think I’m supposed to. My label says that I don’t care. But can labels be changed? I paused, and chewed on the end of my pencil, adding another mark to the faded, yellow, number two pencil that shrank in size as each day of seventh grade passed.
Is there a way to change my label? Maybe even...get rid of labels for good? I wondered as I pulled the poufy bedspread to my chin. I thought about Daniel, and wondered if maybe he didn’t like his label either, he was just too nervous to bring up the subject. And what about Sarah and Courtney? I thought. What if they don’t want to be the “Girly Girls”? What if there’s something else inside of them? What if I’m not the only one who wants to erase the letters inscribed into my reputation?
I drifted off into a disturbed sleep, and blurry figures raced past me in the hallways of my dream. I frowned as I watched myself opening my mouth, possibly trying to scream for something, call for help. But my voice would not make a sound, and the other students in the hallway walked past me as if nothing was happening. As if I did not matter. As if I did not care.
My eyes shot open, and I was panting as if I had been running for a long time, tears glistening in my violet eyes. When I could control my breathing, I listened carefully to the silence of my lonely bedroom on the top floor of our clean, brightly colored house. But the echoes of voices in my head were gradually breaking the silence. Voices of the people from school: laughing and crying, shouting and whispering, singing and talking.
I sat up slowly, and before I knew it, I had arrived at prison, otherwise known as Middle School.

I sat through my classes in a daze, pondering the question I had been thinking about for the past few weeks. “Can labels be changed?”
As I walked through the halls almost robotically, I hardly noticed the chaos around me. I felt like a computer, only really seeing what I was searching for, while the rest of the world was blurred out.
A sharp pain cut through my brain, interrupting my thoughts, and I was suddenly aware of where I was. I shoved the memory of the sudden burst of pain out of my head quickly. It's just a headache, I told myself. It's fine.
I quickly refocused on looking for anyone who might be wondering the same thing I was. Figures zoomed past me as I traveled from class to class, assuming I did not care.
But silence does not mean that I do not care. Silence isn't always the truth.

I heard somebody crying. The sound of the gentle sobs echoed off of the walls in the girls’ bathroom as I walked inside (school was finally over), and then I heard her speak. “Who's in here?” the girl asked, sniffing. I stayed quiet, letting the silence tell its own story.
“Go away!” she cried. “And I'm not crying,” she added defiantly. I tiptoed out of the bathroom and crept behind a trashcan in the hall nearby. I listened to the sound of the stall unlocking and muffled footsteps as the girl made her way out of the bathroom.
Craning my neck to see who it was, I peeked over the garbage bin. It took me a while to process what I was seeing, but when I did, I was shocked. It was Amber, known to her fellow students as “Goofball”. It was Amber, the one who never cried--she laughed. It was Amber, and she was crying.
Maybe I wasn't the only one who was wondering if labels can be changed.
Creeping out from behind the trashcan and still remaining hidden, I ducked past Jane and bolted out the door towards home.

“Hi Jaelyn!” I smiled as I took my seat next to the girl labeled “Insecure” while the rest of my classmates filed in.
“Hi!” she said in her sweet Japanese accent, grinning. “How are you?”
“Uh...I'm at school.” I laughed. “I'm okay though.” I paused, wondering with all my might if I should go against my label. If I should let people know I care. I gulped. “How about you?”
Jaelyn suddenly turned towards me, and we made eye contact. “Now--I'm good. Very good.” She smiled at me, and I smiled back.
The rest of social studies past in a breeze; after all, time flies when you're having fun! Jaelyn and I talked and laughed throughout all of class, occasionally receiving a rude stare from the students sitting nearby.
“Thanks for that,” I said sincerely. “You know, we should hang out sometime.” Jaelyn’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“I'd love--” she began. “I mean...I cannot.” She frowned and stared at the ground.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to look her in the eyes again.
“My--my friends--” she stuttered, “I'm not supposed to--my label--” And then Jaelyn was shoved away by the crowd, leaving me to wonder.
My thoughts about Jaelyn occupied me; I did not pay much attention in any of my classes. And soon enough, the last bell rang, and school was over.
It's happening to Jaelyn and Amber, too, I realized that night as my worries of the day settled in. There must be something I can do.
And then it all hit me as randomly as a brick falling from a clear, blue sky: just tell them.

I approached the big, blue, scratched metal doors labeled North Star Middle School, and slowly swung them outward, revealing the busy hallways filled with blurs of people running, shoving, and slamming lockers shut. The shouts and laughs and whispers echoed off my skull, filling my head with worries that were not my own. Worries that I shouldn’t be having. Worries that I should not care about.
But I did care. And there was nothing I could do to change that.
I fastened the strap of my backpack and stepped through the doorway, allowing myself to be surrounded by the pandemonium of students acting according to their given labels; but not me. My label was not my description, or what I wanted to be--not even close. My true label was what I decided to be, what I chose to become.
“Hi!” I said cheerfully when I saw Bennett, known to be “Fun”, in the hallway on the way to first period. I waved at him, doing everything possible to fight away the awkwardness and nervousness that consumed my thoughts.
“Uh…” Bennett muttered. “Oh, uh, hi Ellie.” I smiled at him and walked away, but I could sense that he was still staring at me with confusion.
I progressed down the hallway until I reached social studies, my first period, and I took my seat; it was just behind the middle and a few desks towards the left. Jaelyn sat down beside me, like she did every day. But I did not stay silent like I did every day.
“You look really pretty,” I said, smiling at her. She stared at me through her big brown eyes, and I stared back at her with my own violet ones. Finally she broke the silence between us.
“Oh! Uh...thanks. You look good too,” she said quietly, obviously still confused about what had just happened. She turned back to her desk and began reading a book, brushing her thick, dark, brown hair away from her face every once in awhile, revealing her smooth tan skin. The more I watched, the more I realized how amazing and beautiful she was. Why would a girl like her be insecure? I wondered. Labels sure do change people.
I smiled to myself, happy that I had finally talked to her, and wishing silently that she would be able to realize her true potential.

Social Studies seemed to be over in a minute, and I walked confidently through the halls to college and career awareness, one of my least favorite subjects. But even with the dread of what we would do, I stayed optimistic with thoughts of what I would do--and then it didn’t seem so bad anymore.
I logged in calmly to the computer in the middle of the back row, just as Amber sat down next to me, laughing about a recent conversation. Her dark red hair fell just past her shoulders, and her indigo eyes seemed to carry a smile all on their own. She logged in as well, still smiling, and we began our assignment for the day.
As we added finishing touches to our self-designed virtual houses, I glanced at Amber’s creation. It was decorated with lots of mismatched furniture, and a small, hardwood-floored room in the corner of her house was filled with desks and lamps and art supplies.
When Amber noticed me observing her design, she quickly added several strange decorations to the walls and ceiling and chuckled, “Look at this!” she pointed to the images she had added to the walls and laughed some more. “I wanted it to reflect my personality!” she laughed. But I could see the sadness in her eyes as she looked at her completely changed creation. But she shook off the sadness with another laugh as her friends from earlier came to admire her design.
Once the girls had gone back to their own seats, I leaned over to Amber’s screen again. “I like that room in the corner that you made. The one with all the art supplies,” I said thoughtfully, scanning the room design once more.
She laughed. “Thanks!” she exclaimed. And then she looked at me for the smallest fraction of a second, wonder glistening in her eyes. She turned back to her own screen, and then, glancing behind her sneakily, deleted the decorations on the walls, and smiled at me. “Thanks,” she said again.
“No problem,” I said.

Third period was French, one of the few classes I didn’t mind. I sat down on a table near the middle of the classroom and pulled out my assignment from last night. I scribbled my name in the margin and tossed it on the top of the stack of the others’ homework.
When I came back to my seat, Luke, known as “Cool” was sitting in the seat next to mine and doodling what looked like an eye with a light blue colored pencil. I sat down next to him and turned to look at the image in the corner of his unfinished homework assignment.
“C’est super,” I said, smiling at the picture. “Qu’Est-ce que c’est?”
“What?” Luke looked up at me, having had his face down low to draw the details. “Oh, uh...it’s nothing,” he muttered, crumpling the paper and stuffing it in his black and gray backpack. He straightened his dirty blond hair, so that it pointed upward at the end. “I just...I don’t know. I was bored.” He blushed and turned away, resting his head in his hands and sighing.
“J'aime ça.” I said, brushing away a strand of my lemon-colored hair from my face and grinning at him, wanting him to know that he really was talented. “I like it.”
“Er...gracias?” he said, laughing. “Wait…” We both laughed together for a minute, and for the first time I saw his pale blue eyes light up with happiness.
“I don't think you're label makes any sense,” I said honestly. Luke looked at me, confused. “I think I'll call you “kind”,” I said. “Yeah, that's what you are.” I smiled at him, and he smiled back.
After what seemed like only a moment, French was over and I was off to fourth period, gym.

After forty-five minutes of running and sports that did a great job at revealing my weaknesses, we were back in the locker room. I leaned over to tie my light blue converse shoes, still watching Elsie, AKA “Just Fine”. Once my shoes were tied securely, I turned to her and smiled.
“How are you?” I asked, looking into her hazel eyes with thoughtfulness. “Really,” I said. “How are you?” Elsie looked into my eyes for a moment, quivering a little. And then, with a sudden exclamation of sadness, she burst into tears.
“Elsie, what’s wrong?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her. “Are you okay?” Elsie shook her head and sobbed louder. Others in the locker room were beginning to stare. I led her to an empty aisle of lockers and looked directly into her watery eyes and at her sparkly brown hair, shiny with tears.
“I--I--” she stuttered, attempting to hold back any more tears. “My parents,” she whispered. “They're going to get divorced--and nobody cares.”
“I care,” I said, trying to hide my shock that her life at home was not at all as easy as I had expected. She leaned onto my shoulder and wiped away some runaway tears.
A flash of pain consumed all of my senses; I gasped, trying to regain control of myself as I choked and coughed uncontrollably. “Ellie! Are you okay?” somebody screamed from a distant universe.

I was in the office lying on the sickbed, an ice pack to my skull. “Oh good, you're awake,” Principal Santos exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief. “What happened?”
“Oh, I, um…” I muttered, rubbing my forehead and standing up slowly. “I tripped,” I lied. But to be honest, I had no idea what had happened. It's just another headache, I tried to get myself to believe. But even I knew that it was something more serious than a headache.

School was over now. I sat in my purple themed bed, letting the poufy colors comfort me with their warmth. Outside the sun was setting behind the indigo mountains, casting a red glow on the glittery green grass. Thoughts about Bennett, Jaelyn, Amber, Luke, and Elsie swam through my brain, increasing the pain of the mysterious headache that wouldn’t go away.
Finally I let myself drift off to sleep, despite how early it was. But I was awoken suddenly with a loud clanking of what sounded like bells or chimes. It was pitch black outside the window; I had slept into the night.
I looked around and noticed a strange glow reflecting off the wall. Is it the moon? I wondered. But it did not look like any amount of light the pale moon could create. I turned to my bedside table; it was my phone. I picked up the smooth, neon orange-cased cell phone and checked the notifications. “Message from Luke” it read.
Luke? I wondered. But I shook that thought out of my head. There was no way that Luke, the coolest person in the seventh grade, would actually want to text me.
The fleeting moment of happiness now gone, I tapped the message, and waited impatiently as it refreshed. “Hey!” it said.
Hey? I thought to myself furiously. Hey! Of all the things he could have said, hey??? That word has like a gazillion different meanings! Does he mean, “Hey, how are you?” or “Hey, what's up?” or “Hey, get out of my life!” Of all the words in the world...hey?
A million thoughts flooded my brain as I wondered what it all meant. But there was only one way to find out. Shaking, I picked up the shiny phone and tapped “hey”, adding an exclamation mark to hide how nervous I was. Did he want to talk to me? Was this some sort of joke?
I waited, staring at the bright screen, not daring to blink, just wanting to know what he would say. And then the chimes sounded and the notification flashed at the top of the screen. “Btw, thanks for earlier,” it said. “I had a great time. And I hope you're okay. I heard you fell down or something.”
The first thought that came to my mind was, He had fun? I had never heard of a cool person having fun with an introvert. Like, a huge introvert. And then I thought, Now what do I say? But my question was answered quickly when my screen refreshed and showed a new message from Luke.
“How'd you fall?” it said. The question bounced around in my brain as I tried out a million different ways to answer: “I tripped,” or “I wasn't watching,” or…or the truth?
“I don't know,” I clicked, not wanting to tell him I had been getting strange headaches. Not wanting him to think I was stupid again.
Luke took a few minutes to reply. “Oh.” And then I felt terrible. Even though it was just a text, I could hear the sadness behind the words.
“Okay...well…” I began, still unsure about it. “I'll tell you the real story at school.”

My first two periods went quick; Amber and Jaelyn talked to me! But that meant French. Which meant Luke. Which meant telling him my secret.
Luke was waiting for me outside Mr. Hanks’ room eagerly. “So?” he said when I arrived.
“I...I…” I stuttered, chewing my lip as I always did in awkward situations. His blue eyes softened with compassion and his expression became serious.
“What?” he asked. I could tell that he knew something. He knew that it wasn't as simple as tripping. He knew something was wrong.
“Something is...wrong with me. I...I can't…” My mind went blank for a moment. What were we talking about? “My...my head...I get headaches...they're different though,” I stopped and breathed hard, the concentration exhausting me.
Luke was all over me throughout French, asking over and over again if I was okay. “I'm okay,” I told him for the billionth time. “You know, I think you'd do pretty well with the label, “dramatic”,” I laughed.
“Oh all right,” he sighed. “I'll leave you alone.” He smiled and I smiled back.
“Drama queen,” I muttered.
“Huh?”
“Oh, nothing,” I chuckled.
4th period came quickly, but I did not run quickly in 4th period. I doubled my normal time for the weekly mile run, and had to sit out of the last ten minutes of volleyball next to Kassie who had a broken ankle.
“Hi,” I said smiling down at her--she was quite a bit shorter having skipped a grade.
“Hi. Guess what?” Kassie said, twirling her strawberry blond pigtail. Before I could answer, Kassie laughed and said, “I'm going to have a little sister.” She looked up at me, grinning, as if expecting praise.
“That--that's great!” I laughed. “Cool!”
“Yeah, it's way cool.” She picked at something in the turquoise bands of her braces and swung her legs back and forth, revealing her mismatched shoes: one purple, one orange.
“Cute shoes,” I said, thinking to myself of the good old days when I would do that.
“You really like them?” Kassie looked at me with big sparkly eyes like my own.
“Of course!” I said. “They're unique!”
“Thanks,” she smiled. “No one's ever said that before.” She looked at the ground and her legs stopped swinging.
“Really?” I asked. “Well...what's your label?” Kassie shifted uncomfortably. “You--you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.
“No, no. It's okay.” She paused for a moment. “Useless.” I thought about what she said for a moment.
“Do you want to be friends?” I asked her.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head as if she had misunderstood the phrase.
“Do you want to be friends?” I looked her in the eyes and she stared back curiously.
“Yes,” she said firmly.
“You're not useless.”
School seemed to pass in an instant. I had a friend to talk to in every class! There was Bennett, who liked to talk about movies. There was Jaelyn, who loved to tell me all about her life back in Japan. Then there was Amber, who always had a new idea to share with me. Luke was always there to say something stupid and make me laugh. Kassie always had news about her soon-to-be sister. And as for the rest of my classes--everyone seemed to want to talk to me!
As I passed through the busy hallways, hands waved in the air, and happy voices cried, “Hey Ellie!” All of the sudden I wasn't invisible. I had made a difference. I cared, and people knew. I didn't have to hide it anymore. Did I?

It was a foggy spring afternoon and my head was throbbing, but I was used to it by now. “Hi Kassie!” I exclaimed as I passed Kassie in her usual neon green T-shirt and bright blue shorts.
“Hi!” she laughed; she laughed at everything. Kassie walked towards me and we walked into the North Star Middle School together, passing several others of my new friends.
“Hi Ellie!” I heard Amber call from across the hall as I walked to my first period. Her friends scowled at her, but she did not seem to care. I smiled to think that maybe I was worth something.
“Ellie!” Bennett chuckled when I met up with him in math. “Hey!”
“Ellie! Good to see you!” Jaelyn said as I headed to my last period of the day, focusing hard on the words so that she wouldn't mispronounce something; she had been working on her English skills with me.
“Hey Ellie!” Luke waved me down when I didn't hear him at first, panting hard when he finally reached me, all so that we could walk part of the way home together. I rubbed my head, listening to Luke's distant voice as he described something he'd done in science class. “It was weird! And then we dissected cow eyes…” Luke's voice trailed off. “Ellie, what's wrong?” he asked.
“N--nothing,” I lied. I stopped where we were standing and closed my eyes tight for a moment, slowly opening them again and walking forward,
“What's wrong?” Luke repeated.
“What? I mean--I--wait, sorry, what?” I turned to look at him, swaying where I stood with weakness and exhaustion.
“Ellie? I can't hear you. You're talking kind of quiet,” Luke seemed to yell.
“I--I can't--understand…” The world was getting cloudy and I couldn't hear a word Luke was saying. I needed to sit down. I needed to stop thinking. I needed everything to go away. The bright lights, the loud and echoic voices, the questions, the thoughts…
I heard a voice from a universe beyond my own say something like, “doctor” and “not okay”, but I didn't pay it any attention. I stared straight ahead. I had to get home, just a couple more blocks...one more block...just down the street...straight ahead.
I collapsed on my lavender bed and was out within the minute, my last thoughts being, Just a headache, just a headache…
Chimes rang in my ears, interrupting my peaceful sleep where I could forget the pain, causing my worries to fill my brain again. Finally I turned to my phone to see who had texted this time.
“Message from Annie, Message from Josh, Message from Ashlyn, Message from Luke,” my notifications read.
I was used to getting a lot of texts; after Luke became my friend, everyone seemed to want to talk to me. But I had never gotten a text from any of these people. These people were labeled popular. Popular and shy do NOT mix. Why would they be texting me?
Hoping for something uplifting, I tapped first on the message from Annie. “What do you think you're doing?” it said. What? I wondered. “You can't change your label.”
I clicked on the next new message; it was from Josh. “You just think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Well why don’t you go join the other perfect little angels—in heaven.”
The next one was from Ashlyn. Though it was only two words, it hurt the most out of all of them. “You're useless.”
My brain throbbed with what felt like knives and needles stabbing every inch of my head as I remembered the day so long ago when I met Kassie and she told me her label: useless. Maybe she was right. Maybe our labels do define us. Maybe I was useless.
Ignoring the last text from Luke, I shut off my phone and let mysteriously silent tears race down my cheeks, the pain in my head growing stronger by the minute.
“I'm useless,” I repeated to myself hopelessly. And suddenly, whatever sickness I might've been suffering from didn't seem so bad anymore. It seemed that maybe whatever was happening to me...was for the best.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking at me closer when I arrived in French. “You don't look too good.” He raised his eyebrows at me and I nodded, dropping my bag where it was and racing to the bathroom, holding in the puke until I reached the toilet.
I wiped away the remains of the accident on my face and stared at my image in the mirror. I was a splotchy red and very frail. My eyes were not the same vibrant violet they used to be. Questions filling my thoughts, I felt my forehead; it was hot. And there was something else too. A lump? No; just my imagination.
I headed to the office with a sigh, picking up my bag on the way there and slouching in the waiting room chair. Why couldn't I just get through a day of school? Why did those so-called headaches keep coming back? I thought for a while. But soon my thoughts became wavy and confusing, so I gave up on them, letting my mind slip into the darkness of confusion.

“So what'd the doctor say?” Luke asked worriedly as I took my seat next to him the next day in class.
“You know, I think I might just call you “caring” now,” I laughed. Luke laughed a little too, but then his face became serious again.
“What'd he say?” he asked, a strange firmness in his voice.
“I--I--” I struggled to remember what we were talking about. “Oh! I, um, I didn't go to...to a doctor.”
“What!” he exclaimed, the sound hurting my ears more than it should have. My thoughts were jumbled up, and it was hard to comprehend what he was saying. “Why?”
“What? Oh, I mean, um, I didn't, it, well, it's fine. I--I'm fine.” I rested my head in my hands, shielding my eyes from the unusually bright light.
“Ellie?” Luke asked in a distant echoic voice. “Ellie, are you okay?” My eyes shot open.
“I...uh...I'm good. Fine, I mean. I'm okay.” Luke looked into my eyes sincerely and smiled. “Thanks for caring,” I added with a tired and worn smile.
Next was gym; my teacher made me sit out. I puked twice more in the locker rooms with no one by my side to comfort me; Kassie was in the hospital with her new little sister.
As I walked through the halls I felt empty: just a ghost floating purposelessly past happy people, mocking me in my sadness. The only difference was that I felt pain; a lot of it.
My neck was stiff and my head pounded. I felt tired and the world around me seemed to be getting foggy. Nothing made sense, except for the fact that something was wrong, and I wanted it to go away. I needed it to go away.
Luke was running towards me, smiling and saying something I couldn’t comprehend. But his smile faded suddenly when he saw me. “Ellie?” I heard a fuzzy, tangled voice say. “Ellie!” he said again, this time panic filling his voice. I watched him in silence for a few moments expressionlessly, the pain in my head and back too great for me to speak; but soon, Luke faded completely leaving me in darkness. And then my thoughts disappeared, one by one, leaving only the pain and me.

I was awake now, but I could not open my eyes. Lights flashed and sirens blared somewhere, but I paid them no notice. A million voices echoed in my head; “Emergency,” “Severe,” “Meningitis,” “Surgery,” and more obscure words created by deep voices rang in my ears.
“Will she be all right?” I heard my mom say as I was lifted onto a stretcher and carried to the hospital; I would have felt bad for not telling her I was okay, but I did not have the strength to feel anything but pain.
“All we can do is hope,” somebody else said.
“NO!” Luke screamed. “She’s going to live! She’s going to be fine!” His normally confident voice cracked until it transformed into a weak sob. “Ellie!” he shrieked. I was being taken into the operating room now; there was no time for my mom to make a decision of what she wanted now. It was this risky surgery--or death.
I said goodbye to Luke, hoping he would feel it, hoping he would get the message, and then I fell into a forced sleep.

My head was pounding, or what was left of it. They said they had taken something out, but I didn’t quite understand what they meant. I didn’t quite care what they meant. I just wanted it to go away.
A soft beeping sounded next to me and I turned slowly towards the noise, only to find I was stuck inside a hard white bed with wires and tubes. I scanned the room around me and saw that the shelves on the walls were stuffed with tools, the ceilings completely covered with charts, and the floor barely visible beneath the many devices in the room.
Still unsure of what was happening exactly, I tried to recall why I was there, what had happened, when the door creaked open slowly. “Ellie?” a woman's voice said. “If you are feeling well enough, there are some people who would like to see you. If not, that is fine; you're going to need lots of rest.
“I--I--I'm ready,” I said shakily, but still determined. The lady turned to leave, nodding at me. “But wait!” I said, still quietly, but louder than before. “What--” I gulped, unsure if I really wanted the answer to this question. “What's going to happen to me?” I closed my eyes, hoping that maybe the shock of the answer would hurt less if I did so.
The lady sighed and straightened her thick glasses. “All we can do is check the labels. The ones on the screen over there.” She gestured towards a device showing my heart rate that I discovered was connected to a certain tube in my wrist.
Labels, I thought to myself, my thoughts full of melancholy. It’s the labels that change everything. The lady with the tight brown bun, white overcoat, too much makeup, and black glasses watched me for a while through her sugary brown eyes, and I looked back at her after a moment. “Watch the labels,” I said, forcing a weak smile. “Thank you.” The nurse smiled at me.
“Well, I guess if you feel okay, we’ll let that one kid in the waiting room come and see you,” she said, obviously exhausted from the stress of suspense.
“What about my mom?” I asked. Does she not want to see me? Did I do something wrong? I wondered.
“She came in and checked on you while you were sleeping and--” The lady paused and stared at the ground. “She doesn’t want to have to see…” She stopped mid-sentence and I nodded in understanding.
“Is there anyone else here?” I asked, a small bit of hope creeping into my broken voice.
“There was no time to...to get the message out…” she said. “And even if there was--” She glanced at the screen beside me. “I think this is it.” She stared at me solemnly for a moment and then left to allow the one visitor into my room.
I sat in the eerie silence of my hospital bedroom, waiting for my visitor for a few minutes. The door creaked open slowly, revealing that one familiar face, the one who had been my friend, the one who hadn’t let my label--or anyone else’s--get in the way of friendship.
“Hey,” he said. I thought back to the time when he had first texted me, “Hey!” and I had replied, “Hey!” using the exclamation mark to hide my fear. But exclamation marks would not work this time. Exclamation marks don't always tell the truth.
“Hey,” I said in return. I watched him as he walked expressionlessly into the room, attempting and failing to divert his eyes from the screen next to me. His eyes were red and dull, showing only sadness--and a hint of confusion. Luke sat down in the Visitor’s Chair--or so it was labeled--and kept his eyes away from me for a while.
“What’s up?” he said quietly, trying to hold back tears. But his voice cracked, and his eyes glistened.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to do this,” I told him seriously.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen…” he said quietly. “I should’ve gotten you to go to the doctor sooner. It’s all my fault.” He stayed silent for a moment and then added, “I guess you could call me “Depressed” now. Or “Stupid”.” He gazed at the ground.
“No,” I said firmly. Luke turned to look at me. “I think I’ll call you…” I looked him in the eyes. “I think I’ll call you Luke.” He smiled at me, and I managed a faint smile as well. Tears streamed down his face, and he didn’t bother trying to hold them back anymore.
“Thank you,” I said. “I had a great time.” He nodded and looked down again, unable to look me in the eyes without crying even harder.
I glanced briefly at the labels on the screen beside me. My heart rate was plummeting downward, and I clicked the screen off. I didn’t care about labels anymore.
“Bye Ellie,” he said.
“Bye Luke,” I replied. I let my own built up tears fall down my face freely, and then the world faded away into nothing.