#hannahart

I had made it to the third page of the test before the pain started. Not the type of pain that moved through the base of your skull. Not the type of pain you got after a good run or a nasty fall. This was a searing pain. One that halted every train of thought I had on the papers in front of me.

The Manhattan project didn't mean so much anymore.

My face scrunched up as I glanced at the inner edge of my forearm. There was a sweater blocking most of it- it was cold that day. But it burned all the same. Like a hot press was being branded into my skin.

My whole body shifted as I glanced up at Mr. Brandon, he didn't seem to give a damn about anything that was going in the room other than the tinder profile he was contemplating swiping right on. I knew one girl who cared about this test more than I did though. She cared more than him too.

I could feel her eyes sear into the side of my face, my whole neck prickling as her stare continued to stay trained on me. My own gaze moved towards her- the blue orbs that looked back were full of conviction and curiosity. I usually had full focus when it came to tests.

It felt like there was acid dripping though my veins at this point, slowly working it's way past my wrist as it spread to my fingertips. I glanced back down at my paper. I knew the words wouldn't make sense, the dates being blurred and distorted.

The legs of my chair scraped against the tiled floor, everyone seemed to look at me, adding to that prickling feeling. Whatever I was doing was more interesting than the test sitting in front of everyone. Mr. Brandon decided it was more interesting than a potential hook-up too.

My footsteps were quick as I walked to the front, a few people going back to the task at hand. But she didn't. She continued to stare. Mr. Brandon looked annoyed as I pressed my hands against the edge of the desk.

"Can I use the restroom?" My voice was ragged, my stomach dropping from the movement.

"I don't know if you'll cheat."

"I won't." I growled slightly, seeing the skepticism on his face "Look, grade what I have. I need to go."

His dark eyes scanned me for a moment. A moment long enough for his phone to shut off- the red headed girl on the screen disappearing from my view. He let out a thick sigh before nodding. I swallowed and walked from the room- more like stumbled.

It had moved past half of my side at this point, sweat wicking into the fabric of my shirt around my collar. The bathroom was only right around the corner but it seemed like it was miles away. I let out a small breath, clenching my forearm as I pressed my back against the nearest locker- the cold almost shocking me awake.

I could feel the edges of each locker press against my skin and dig into it like it was malleable. It wasn't, but I didn't care at this point. I wanted to scream, every part of me afraid to look down at my arm, every ounce of my resistance lessening with the pain.

"You essentially just sacrificed your class ranking."

"I don't care."

"You should." She spoke "that little stunt you pulled in there. Walking out without even looking at the questions."

"I looked at the questions-"I cut myself off, realizing that arguing with the blue eyed girl wouldn't do me any good. She was petty, petty and angry all the time. For as long as I could remember Hannah Hart was the second in our class.

I was valedictorian. I didn't want it, of course, I wanted to be a lawyer. All my life I wanted to stand in front of a court and argue either side. It wasn't about the grades, it was about the destination that would get me there. Hannah, on the other hand, wanted to give the speech at graduation. She wanted the cords and the recognition. We were always neck and neck.

"Why would you do that, huh?" She asked, leaning against the lockers as I let out a small grunt, my fingers wrapping around my arm right near my elbow. Everything burned, stung more than a wasp sting amplified.

"Hannah," I swallowed, pressing my head against the cool surface of metal behind me. "Go finish your test."

"Oh, I'm already done." She knit her eyebrows together "I wanted to see if you were okay."

I scoffed, "I hope you're a better test taker than you a are a liar."

"No, really." She knelt down, her voice laced with a thick worry as my lungs filled with the sharp minty scent she carried with her. It was early morning, I didn't know if it was from her toothpaste of a piece of gum she popped in order to keep awake during class.

"Grace look at me," She placed her cool touch against my chin, turning my eyes towards her "What's wrong?"

"Everything hurts." I managed to choke out, glancing quickly at my forearm "This hurts."

Hannah nodded. She didn't seem too concerned about the test anymore- hell, neither was I. I just wanted relief, and answers. I wanted to pull the fabric away from my arm, but I was terrified. The blue-eyed girl on the other hand wasn't.

I stared at the ceiling, my vision focusing on the lights. A cool gust of wind hit my now exposed skin as Hannah pushed the sweater up to my elbow. It was nice to let the pain breathe, the let it lose its cage.

"oh, my god." Hannah whispered, her words hot on my collarbone as I struggled to keep my composure. Everything burned at this point.

"What is it?" I asked "A spider bite? Holy shit, it's a spider bite isn't it. I need to go to the hospital I'm-"

"It's my name." She cut me off, her voice firm, her eyes widened as I dipped my head down to meet her gaze, but her focus was on my arm. "Grace, it's my name."

I looked down, my own breath catching in my throat as I stared at the inked letters. Big block letters that were glowing in irritated red. Like I had gotten a tattoo. I never would have. Not there. It would look bad in a court room, bad in any situation.

"What the fuck," She whispered, knitting her eyebrows together.