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In the counselor's office, Marika and Stiles were sitting and listening to Ms. Morrell. Stiles was listening more. He was lacing up his lacrosse stick while Marika fiddled with her necklace.

Stiles met Ms. Morrell's eyes. "You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's -- it's actually kind of peaceful."

Ms. Morrell frowned. "Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?"

Marika shrugged, saying nothing.

Stiles nodded. "He held a gun to Marika, and shot her and our friend, so no, I don't feel sorry for him. I don't think her brother does either."

"Can you feel sorry for the nine-year-old Matt who drowned?" Ms. Morrell questioned.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train."

Ms. Morrell smiled. "One positive thing came out of this, though. Right?"

Marika did sarcastic jazz hands. "Oh, thank the gods we're alive."

Stiles nodded and glanced at Marika before saying, "Yeah. Yeah, but I still feel like there's something wrong between us. I don't know. It's just like tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott."

"Have you talked to him since last night?" Ms. Morrell wondered.

Marika's hand found her necklace once again. "I was in the hospital all night, so... Melissa and Dima would've liked me to stay, but I didn't want to."

Her necklace became more interesting as Stiles said, "I don't think he's talked to Allison either. But that might be more her choice, you know? Her mom dying hit her pretty hard. But I guess it brought her and her dad closer. Jackson? Jackson hasn't really been himself lately. Actually, the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia is the one who seems the most normal."

"And what about you, Stiles? Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night? Marika? How about losing a classmate of yours?"

Marika's hands balled into fists as she said sharply, "He deserved what he got."

Stiles' eyes narrowed as well. "Why would you ask us that? Ah. Uh, no. I-I never actually play. But hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one's missing, who knows, right?"

"You mean Isaac," Ms. Morrell said. "One of the three runaways. You haven't heard from any of them, have you?"

"No," Marika retorted. "You know, usually a counselor writes things down. Where are your notes?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, how come you're not taking any notes on this?"

Ms. Morrell smiled at them. "I do my notes after the session."

Stiles let out a scoff. "Your memory's that good?"

"How about we get back to you? Stiles? Marika?"

"I'm fine. We're fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen."

Old Scars, Future HeartsWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu