-How to laugh-

                                    

                                          
October 2nd, 2017
                          
I could tell Will Solace was infiltrating Jenny's office before I entered the premise. 
                          
I wouldn't have been able to smell him... which is probably a weird statement on a normal day, but I had a bad cold. Thankfully, I wasn't coughing or puking or dying, but I had a stuffy nose, my face was congested, and I keep sneezing. 
Obviously, sneezing didn't warrant death either, but it was embarrassing. It draws attention. It's small. It's... cat-like. Terrible. 
                          
I hated being sick, especially at night. I hated waking up in the morning, not being able to breath through my nose, head pounding, eyes burning. 
                          
I put my hand on the icy door handle, trying to prepare for an hour of talking. Talking about nothing besides myself. Then a tickle in my nose caught my attention. Covering my mouth, I sneezed.  
I shook my head, rubbed my hands over my face and eyes, and then through my hair, and hoped I wouldn't sneeze in front of Will. That'd be embarrassing. 
I got over myself and walked in, interrupting whatever they were talking about. 
Will caught my attention first, since he was right in front of the door, hand outstretched. His hair was so blonde it looked like a barbies, sun bleached, but soft looking. It was very obviously not dyed, and I'm sure girls at my school would kill for hair like that. 
His eyes locked with mine, and I realized that other than the sky blue, he had flecks of gold in his irises like I do. A weird quality, but it looked cool. 
                          
"He's here," he exclaimed, looked behind himself to Jenny, who had stopped what looked like pacing. Her index finger was brought up to her mouth in worry and her other hand was placed on her hip. 
Her hair was in a messy bun, with loose strands falling around her face. 
                          
"Nico! Are you ok? Is it a bad day?" She rushed over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders and stared at me even more intensely than Will had. 
                          
"No? Why would you think that? I didn't text you that I remember..." I got a little worried and took out my phone to make sure I didn't. My memory was shit enough as it is, we don't need to add any more short term memory loss. 
                          
"No no no, it just, you're 15 minutes later than usual, and that usually means it's a bad day, and so I got worried and was going to get Will to go and see if you were out front," she replied, closing the door and moving me slowly to the couch. Her arms were around my shoulders. Will trailed behind us. I could feel his eyes on my neck. 
                          
"Oh, I didn't even realize," I said, because truthfully, I didn't. I guess I was walking in a slow haze from my cold,
"Don't worry Jen, I'm just sick, I've had a cold since Saturday that hasn't gone away." 
                          
"Ok good. I mean, not good, but better than what it couldn't love been..." I knew why she was scared. More than once, during really bad days that include panic attacks, I would end up walking somewhere I didn't recognize, and then get even more freaked out. That usually ended in a very panicked call to Jenny. 
Other times, I would wonder off on purpose, to get away from the people, the pairs of eyes that always seemed to be watching me. The ones that would never help a teen boy in all black even if he was having a mental breakdown. Even if his thoughts were plagued with evil voices. Even if he showed visible signs of needing help. 
                          
I sniffed as I sat down, shrugging my back pack off and placing it beside me. Jenny was calming down, and she looked a lot less tense as she walked around the coffee table to sit in her chair. Will stood staring at me, but I could tell he wasn't looking at me, he was just staring off into space. 
He looked extremely tired today, I noticed when I took a better look at him. Even from farther away, I could see the bags under his eyes, and his eyes, that I had seen in so much detail a few seconds ago, were glazed over. His shoulders were slumped and his mouth was turned down. Last week he had looked happy and energized enough, but now he kind of looked like the walking dead. Literally.