#wretchds.

mason: hey bro mason: are you going to see emma any time soon?

the university town is so small, mason has gotten used to seeing people he knows in every room he walks into. he's never surprised to see jamie in the library or diana at the pool, so it's only expected to run into emma here. ( here, being: the café off fourth avenue with low ceilings and dim enough lighting that even someone like jamie would like it, the scent of fresh pastries and hot chocolate stronger than the coffee, the leather of the couch peeling at the seams and on the edges, the outside tables always twice as populated as the inside. the rain never bothers the natives. ) when his eyes lock onto hers, the first thing he thinks is that she changed her schedule; the second thing he thinks ⎯ notices ⎯ is that she isn't alone. despite his better judgment, he lets his eyes travel to the man she's with, someone that mason doesn't know from adam so it doesn't make sense that emma knows him, but the fact that they're standing closer than emma has ever allowed anyone to get tells him more than enough. it takes another second for him to look away. without a word or gesture, he walks past the ( new ) happy couple.

aji'ana: Hi, Emma! Sorry to bug you ... I just wanted to apologize again for being so awful at our tutoring session. You were so patient with me and I really appreciate that! I love you for even trying to help me and I'm sorry I couldn't do better. aji'ana: I haven't heard from you in a few days and I totally understand that! But I miss you and I hope you're doing well 🤍

aji'ana: hi, lovie! aji'ana: how are you today! i haven't heard from you in a few days ... i miss you!

ramona: shion ... ramona: can you swear to secrecy ramona: which means no telling cherry either !! ramona: i need to tell Someone and you're literally my only friend so !!!!

"  not  that  it's  my  business,  "  he  disclaims,  after  several  uncomfortable  minutes  of  staring  at  timmy's  face.  "  but  you've  been  looking  at  your  homework  like  it  punched  your  mother  in  the  face.  do  you  need  me  to  explain  the  concept  again,  or  ...  ?  "

she  knows  she  shouldn't  be  out  here,  but  the  cover  of  night  is  really  all  she  has  to  herself.  it's  more  common  sense  than  anything  that  tells  her  not  to  be  in  the  shadyside  woods,  but  reputation  is  a  damning  thing  itself  ⎯  a  shudder  teases  her  spine  at  the  very  thought  of  a  shadyside  slasher  finding  her  here,  and  she  wraps  her  arms  around  herself  as  if  that  can  protect  her.  she  rubs  her  arms,  venturing  further  into  the  woods  until  she  finds  a  place  deep  enough  in  the  copse  of  trees  that  she  doesn't  fear  being  seen  by  anyone  else.  she  rests  her  shoulder  against  a  tree  and  closes  her  eyes,  willfully  drawing  air  full  of  pine  and  cedar  into  her  lungs  before  letting  it  back  out.  she  repeats  the  process  a  few  times,  calming  herself  from  the  anxiety  that  threatened  to  drag  her  to  the  ground  today.  she  doesn't  even  know  what  set  off  the  attack,  but  she  supposes  no  one  ever  does.  still,  there's  a  sense  of  peace  that  she  finds  here,  swallowed  in  the  thick  body  of  forestry,  the  breeze  softly  ruffling  the  leaves  and  making  her  problems  almost  insignificant.  and  it's  a  peace  that  would  last,  could  last,  if  not  for  the  sound  of  footsteps.  her  eyes  snap  open  and  she  looks  around  to  find  the  source  of  the  disturbance.  (  sid  will  kill  her  if  she  dies  before  they  take  her  yearly  pageant  pictures,  sure  to  be  featured  in  the  town  newspaper.  it'll  be  even  worse  if  she  gets  killed  by  a  shadysider.  )  her  eyes  case  the  woods,  too  dark  for  her  to  see  clearly.  "  hello?  "  she  winces  immediately  after,  humiliated  by  the  thought  of  being  that  girl  in  the  horror  movies.

she's  late.  though  the  temptation  is  to  blame  herself,  she's  still  slightly  discombobulated  from  last  night,  clad  in  the  clothes  that  jameson  lent  her,  having  woken  up  later  than  usual  with  a  splitting  headache,  a  stuffy  nose,  and  a  cat  curled  up  beside  her  head.  without  her  phone  or  a  watch,  time  ran  meaninglessly,  and  by  the  time  she  gets  to  her  apartment  and  grabs  her  things  ⎯  not  bothering  to  change  into  her  own  clothes,  because  she  simply  doesn't  have  the  time;  that  did  not,  however,  stop  her  from  taking  two  minutes  to  make  her  apparel  more  fitting  for  herself,  with  nothing  but  a  hair  tie,  a  safety  pin,  and  a  quick  swap  from  his  sweats  to  her  own  leggings  ⎯  and  starts  on  her  way  to  emma's  place,  she's  already  well  over  an  hour  late. the  rush  of  midmorning  thursday  foot  traffic  is  nothing  to  gawk  at,  but  it  isn't  the  most  tardy  -  friendly  thing,  either.  on  more  than  one  occasion,  she  finds  herself  twisting  to  avoid  ramming  straight  into  others,  their  eyes  on  their  phones  and  minds  on  whatever  conversations  they're  having,  and  she  feels  every  second  that  passes  without  her  being  where  she's  supposed  to  be.  her  feet  still  ache  from  last  night's  hours  -  long  journey  and  the  bandaging  around  them  will  only  do  so  much  if  she  stays  on  them  like  this,  soles  occasionally  stabbed  by  rocks  kicked  into  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk,  or  uneven  concrete  that  will  never  be  fixed.  every  now  and  again,  she  does  stop,  breathing  through  the  pain  and  longing  for  a  handful  of  tylenol,  but  she  keeps  going  until  she  finds  herself  at  emma's  door. at  the  very  least,  she  thinks,  it's  not  raining  today. adjusting  the  purse  slanted  across  her  torso,  she  takes  another  calming  breath,  puts  on  her  best  smile,  and  knocks.  "  i'm  so  sorry,  "  she  says,  the  moment  the  door  opens.  "  i  ⎯  my  phone  is  gone,  so  my  alarm  didn't  go  off,  and  i  overslept  until  jameson  had  to  go  to  class.  and  i  know  i'm,  like,  two  hours  late,  i  just  don't  want  you  to  think  that  i  ditched  you,  because  i  really  ...  really  didn't  mean  to.  "  her  apology  now  somewhat  done,  she  breathes  again,  ignoring  all  of  the  aches  and  discomforts  that  have  now  grown  comfortable  beneath  her  skin.  "  i  know  our  study  session  is  way  over,  but  i  can  treat  you  to  brunch,  if  you  don't  hate  me  too  much ... ? "