She was still smiling slightly as she grabbed some pajamas and headed to the bathroom. It wasn’t that late, but she felt so contented and sleepy all of a sudden she thought she’d just take a shower and maybe read in bed for a while. She slipped out of the oversized dress and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful, especially since she’d been outside on such a chilly December night. It sluiced through her hair and washed the itchy mascara from her eyes. She felt light and free and clean.

She felt like she could float, away from the dirty, confusing, spinning ground.

She was lightheaded. Somehow she was leaning against the wall, the water was really too hot, and she hoped the cool tiles could drain all this heat away. She felt like she was trying to breathe glue. The walls felt like they were tilting. It was too hot. She felt nauseous and shaky. She tried to step out of the shower it was too hot but her weak knees collapsed and she felt the faucet strike her as she fell.

Water was drumming down on her head, clogging her ears and making her sneeze. Cold water. Her mouth tasted bitter. She shivered but she didn’t think she could stand. Instead she curled into a tight ball, lying on her side in the fetal position. From here she had a strange lopsided view, of her dark gold wet hair plastered to the shining white floor, the walls rising around her like the sides of glaciers or the clean walls of a padded cell, and far away the cracked plaster sky. She felt small and insignificant.

She hated this weakness, this vulnerability. She hated her damn body. Just in case she had forgotten how it controlled her, the inevitable chemistry had run its course and the sugar racing through her veins had spiked, crashed, and left her helpless and weak as a kitten.

Just in case for one night she had thought a body was something to be enjoyed, something to be kissed and held and to taste sweet apple blintzes with, instead of something to be obeyed.

Just in case she had forgotten that she was enslaved by this hideous thing.

She was so cold. The hot water had run out…she must have been unconscious. She was shivering violently. She tried to stand, but the world lurched sickeningly and she fell back down. Her stomach heaved, and her whole tiny body was wracked by the spasms. Dry heaves- she must have vomited while she was unconscious, or before she fell- her memories after getting in the shower were a nauseous blur. The spasms mixed with sobs until she was gasping for breath. Her head was pounding and she was so cold. She lay slumped in the shower, utterly defeated.

He curled up under the covers, idly flicking through the television channels, before settling on the Sci-Fi channel like he always did. On the tiny screen, monsters battled and Our Hero prepared to die alone in the depths of space, but all he could think about was her, and the way she had fit so perfectly in his arms. Already he was eagerly anticipating sixth period, when he knew he would see her at the end of lunch so she could drop off her Diet Coke can.

She reached up to the soap dish, far above her head, and using all her strength hauled herself up. She painstakingly stepped out of the shower, and staggered to her room, collapsing cold, wet, and naked on her bed.

She was rudely awoken in what seemed like only a few minutes by the chafing shriek of an alarm clock, but she switched the alarm off and pulled the blanket over herself. She’d be lucky if she could stand now, let alone go to school.

He sat bolt upright at the stroke of six a.m., and frantically listed all the assignments that were due that day, trying to remember if had completed all of them. He had, as always, but a nagging nausea curled in the pit of his stomach, a lurking feeling that there was something he hadn’t done. Logically he knew he had written everything in his day planner, but somehow even the hypothetical thought of forgetting an assignment could send him into a panic.

Once he had calmed down enough to get up, the thought struck him that he would be seeing her today, at the end of sixth period. Technically, it was somebody else’s shift today, but he was sure they wouldn’t object to letting him man the recycling table today. Probably think that he was completely insane for taking on extra responsibilities, but didn’t they already?

He shaved more carefully than usual today, actually combed his usually eccentric hair, and frantically searched his room for a clean shirt that wasn’t from a science competition.

It was about ten when she woke up again. She wasn’t nauseous anymore, but her head was pounding and she felt weak and shaky. She emailed her mother to call the attendence office at school, and then curled up in a quilt to watch hours of reality shows and sip hot, calorie-free, herbal tea.

First period, and he got a test back. He got an eighty-nine in a non-AP class. Not quite good enough. The dread in the pit of his stomach unfurled a little, but he reminded himself that the forest in the moonlight was infinitely more important than this, and he’d be seeing her at the end of sixth period.

As he expected, the person who’s shift it was didn’t argue. “You really wanna do this? Cool. You’re like, superhuman!” So he happily sat at the little flyer-bedecked folding table next to the giant recycling bin. He had a direct view of the clock, and it was all he could do to keep from looking at it every thirty seconds. The anxiety in his stomach was replaced by a warm, happy buzz. He couldn’t wait to see her again.

She was always a little before the end of the period- how long does it take to eat lunch when it’s a single can of Diet Coke?- but he watched the minutes creep by her usual time.

He watched students trickling out of the cafeteria, occasionally stopping by his table to drop off their empty cans, and he didn’t even have the heart to be irritated at the jocks who dumped their whole lunch tray, soggy French fries and all, into his recyclables-only can.

He watched students rushing by, jostling the can, and the harsh bell cut through his mind and he ran to his next class.

Of course she didn’t want to see him. He was shy, awkward, unpopular, and weird. She wasn’t the center of popularity, true, but she still deserved, expected, and was obviously going to look for something a lot better than him.

Of course.