30

30. Art class is the first class of the day. And I get got detention for being late. I sit in the back with Grace on my right flank. On the left, Billie's seat is empty. Ashlae and Emma are in front of the class, presenting a film with a vision board that belonged to Billie and me for a bit. It all seems so botched. Emma has no idea what she says, talking about the beauty of the human form and how artistically inspiring it all is. She reading it all from the black letters on her forearm. But, Miss Richard's eyes are closed. Like she's listening to the fake passion in their voices, getting carried away.

I don't know. I think about why they aren't prepared. I think about how, if Billie and I completed our project, we would be able to recite every word because it wouldn't even be words to us. It would be our life. It world be the flesh we are made of. It would be the flesh Billie was made of.

Ashlae stares at me, face smug and intense all the same. She's pretending. They're all pretending. Miss Richards and her packaged smiles. Emma and her scripts. Ashlae with Billie's notebook.

I lose it for a moment. I don't know. My head spins and spins in my seat and I can't catch my breath. I was stupid. I was stupid. I was stupid.