I was still upset the next day. I didn’t sleep much. I felt like things were starting to spin out of my control again—just when I thought things were getting better. Maybe I was stupid to think that my life could change. Patrick knew something was wrong with me when I walked into class. I didn’t feel like talking about it, so I immediately pulled out my notebook and pretended like I was reviewing my notes. Mr. D was lecturing today, so we didn’t have a chance to talk during class. When class ended, I didn’t say anything and I just grabbed my stuff. Patrick put his hand on my backpack and stopped me from leaving right away.
“Liz, what’s wrong?” He was desperate to get in my head.
“Nothing.” I shrugged my shoulders and avoided his eye contact.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” He still wouldn’t let go of my bag.
“Don’t worry about it.” I glanced at him and forced a smile on my face. “I got to get to class.”
He let go of my bag. “Okay. But remember, you’re not alone.”