My grandpa left the bedroom-esque medical room, and I thought I would get out of bed, but Ms. Susan entered the room.

"Rollie, are you up for another visitor?" Ms. Susan asked.

"Uh, sure, I guess so," I said.

She turned around and left, and then Farrah stepped inside, but she lingered by the doorway. I was ecstatic to see her beautiful face again, although she slightly frowned.

"Farrah!" I said emphatically, hoping to get her to smile, but her lips fell even further.

She came up to my bed. "Hey, Rollie."

"Hey, I'm so happy to see you. I've been so worried and sad and -whatever other bad emotion you can think of- that's what I've been. Are you okay? Are you feeling better?"

"I think I know why I wasn't feeling well for a while."

"Weren't you sick?"

She looked down. "Something like that. I don't really know. I just know I was feeling terrible and didn't want to do anything. My roommates brought me my food, and they brought me my homework too. But I wasn't coughing or sneezing or anything. It all felt like I was mentally out of it. You know what I mean?"

"I guess so. I'm sorry to hear that. Did you get my letter? I gave Jasmine a letter to give to you."

Farrah scrunched her brow and tilted her head. "I don't think I ever received anything from her."

I exhaled. "Well, I'm sorry it missed you, but I sent a letter to Jasmine to give to you because I wanted to check in on you. That's all."

Farrah closed her eyes and held her hand over her chest. "This is just getting harder and harder."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Rollie, I'm so sorry, but I thought I knew what I wanted, but I guess I don't. When I was staying in my room, I was doing a ton of thinking, which made me realize that..." She paused, and her lips trembled. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I don't want to be with you anymore."

"Wait, really?" I said immediately. That felt like a sick joke. "Are you serious?"

Farrah bit her lip, and the tears came streaming down her cheek. She nodded. "I'm so sorry, Rollie. Y-y-you really mean a l-lot to me b-but I j-just can't do it a-anymore."

"Are you serious? I just got attacked by three people, and you come in to visit me while I'm in the medical room and tell me you're breaking up with me?"

"Rollie, it's not like there's ever a good time to break up with someone."

"How about when they're not in the medical hall? Couldn't you just wait a few days?" Emotions spun around in my head. Tears surged through my eyes, and I felt like my chest was about to collapse.

"Rollie, we both know prolonging the pain wouldn't make sense. I just couldn't keep worrying about you and telling you how to behave, and then Orson asked me how to approach you to be friends with you, and you wouldn't even talk to him. I'm just -I'm just- done with it all."

I folded my arms and turned my head. I couldn't bare to see her anymore." Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, great, whatever, I get it. Can you please just leave then?"

"I'm really sorry, but you don't have to be so mean about it."

"Well, you've been kind of a jerk to me lately!" I snapped.

Farrah scoffed. "You know, this is why you don't have any friends, and I can't keep being your only friend in this world. I think this might be good for you."

I stared at the ceiling and said to myself, "I can't believe what I'm hearing." I glared back at her. "Just go, will you? I'm sorry you came, and I'm sorry if I was a lousy boyfriend, but I didn't know what I was doing. I've never been in a relationship before, and I'm really struggling. So sorry. Just go, please."

Farrah frowned at me, but I couldn't look at her anymore. I was so done with everything.

Life had felt meaningless and stupid and cruel.

Finally, I thought things were going well for me, but everything turned upside down.

Farrah stepped out of the room, and I sobbed. My voice was syrupy, I couldn't stop sniffling, and I couldn't catch my breath.

Ms. Susan rushed in. "Rollie? Are you okay?"

Through the crying and mental anguish, I managed to say, "N-No! F-Farrah broke up with me."

Ms. Susan came to my bedside. "Oh, Rollie, I'm really sorry about that. I wish I could give you a potion that would heal you right up, but there's nothing that can help you recover from heartbreak like time can. If you'd like, I can sit here and listen if you want to talk about it."

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I didn't have anyone else to say anything to. Even though I didn't know Ms. Susan, perhaps telling things to a stranger would be even better. My dad's advice about keeping feelings bottled up echoed in my head, but I knew that was stupid.

I told Ms. Susan everything that happened in my relationship with Farrah, all of the ups and downs. It felt like I had been talking to her for an hour, but she listened the entire time.

"I know you probably don't care to hear what I have to say, but it's an important perspective to think about. Mind if I share?" Ms. Susan said.

"Sure. Whatever."

"I don't think Farrah was a good relationship for you. It sounds like you two were vastly different and could never get by without issues. I know it can be difficult to see at the moment, but I think you'll find in the coming weeks it was ultimately the right decision."

"But I didn't make the decision."

"Well, she made the right decision for the both of you. Like I said, it's hard to see and understand now, but I think if you date someone else, you will see that they are much different from Farrah, and they are probably better and more suited for you."

I sighed. "Thanks, but I still feel pretty horrible about everything."

One side of Ms. Susan's lip curled up. "My words aren't just going to magically fix your problem. You need to let some time pass before you can truly start to feel better."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Ms. Susan paused. "Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?"

"No."

She bowed her head. "You're welcome to spend the rest of the night here if you'd like, or you can return to your room. You seem to be doing just fine."

"I'm feeling pretty hungry. Could I eat dinner here and then decide?"

"You certainly can, I will bring someone to get food for you. Talk to you soon."

I ate the meal in my tiny room and decided to stay one night there. It was nice not having to share a room with someone, even though Mortimer was asleep all the time.

Tomorrow will be a new day, and things will be different from here on out. Things are going to be better and more improved... I hope.

After leaving the medical hall the following day, I hit a mental low. I couldn't fall asleep, so I walked around the campus while no one was around. My breaths were short and restrictive, I couldn't get a regular breathing rhythm going.

Every time I walked around, I always had a fear of getting caught lingering in the back of my head. But on that Sunday night, I didn't care at all. Even if I got caught and got in trouble, it would make no difference. I would still feel miserable.

After an hour of walking around, a mild sense of tiredness sank in, and I went back to my room and tried to fall asleep, but I tossed and turned the whole night. I think I probably got an hour of sleep. The bags under my eyes certainly suggested so, but one of them was all black and bruised anyway.

As I got ready the following morning to go to class, I decided to skip breakfast and put on my clothes, wearing my Dead Kennedys t-shirt. Strolling to the educational hall, a few kids gave me dirty looks, and I didn't understand why at first. Usually, when people stared at me, they were glued to my mohawk. But this time, they met my gaze, and either shook their head or glared.

Then I realized, without even thinking it through, or perhaps I was too tired to remember, I wasn't allowed to wear just plain clothes on the weekday. I had to wear my cloak. But I was, dressed in black jeans and my black Dead Kennedys t-shirt. Most of my classmates probably didn't even know what band I was wearing. I was running a little late to class, but I knew I had to go back and change.

Professor Shia wouldn't be too thrilled if I came in late, but maybe I could tell her I had forgotten and run back to my room. Then I wouldn't be deducted any points for tardiness.

"Rollie Magpie!" someone shouted behind me.

Spinning around, Professor Hawthorne marched through the crowded hallway of students to approach me.

"Yes, I know, I'm not wearing my cloak." I put my hands up defensively. "I was just about to tell--"

"Certainly, you should know better than to wear your ugly rags around campus during the weekdays!" Professor Hawthorne scoffed. "This isn't the weekend, Mr. Magpie, but here you are again, disregarding the rules that apply to you and every other student. Why do you have such a blatantly disrespectful attitude toward the culture here at Attleton? In both academics and sports, even! It's such a disgrace."

"Well, like I was saying, I was going to--"

"It doesn't matter!" He pointed his stupid index finger at my chest and kept jabbing the air in front of him. "Because you've already misbehaved once earlier this year, and now that I've spotted you again breaking the rules, you will owe me detention, and you will have to write me an essay. Are we clear?"

"If you'd let me talk, maybe I could--"

"If I let you talk, you would waste your time and my time. It's clear as day, you do not have your cloak on, go back to your room and put it on. I'll even escort you back to the Fyron Dormitory myself! Just put your cloak on and have some respect for your school!"

All the kids in the hallway stopped and stared, hugging the walls to create a sizable gap between Professor Hawthorne and me.

"Can I please just explain to you that--"

"No! You will be going to your room and getting back your cloak. I will escort you, but you will not say a single word to me unless you want another detention. I do not care to hear whatever lazy excuse you have. Try harder. Do better. Figure out what it takes to follow the rules and obey simple instructions. Look all around you. No one else seems to have any trouble following the rules. Everyone has their cloak on except you. Now go!"

I took a deep breath, and as much as I wanted to roll my eyes into the back of my head and yell back at him, I figured it wasn't worth it. It felt like Professor Hawthorne had made a fool of himself for getting so worked up over something so menial and pointless.

Professor Henderson stepped between us. "What's the matter this time?"

"Never mind," Hawthorne flapped his hand for him to leave. "Professor Henderson, the situation has already been handled. Thank you very much. You can return to your classroom."

"Rollie, you're not wearing your cloak?" Professor Henderson asked calmly.

"To be honest, I totally forgot and--"

"Thank you, Professor Henderson!" Hawthorne interrupted. "But the situation is handled already! You may leave us alone!"

Professor Henderson didn't acknowledge Hawthorne. He only looked at me. "So tell your professor you're running late and go back to your room and put your cloak on and--"

"Henderson, you and I can discuss it later, but this is my responsibility for now, and I've already handled the situation. Thank you," Professor Hawthorne said rudely. He ushered me along, and I didn't want to move, but I could tell Hawthorne would explode if I didn't do as instructed. I had to make a compromise.

I followed his lead, but in front of all the students who stood around and witnessed the entire conversation, I shouted, "You don't scare me, Professor Hawthorne."

Some kids gasped, dropped their jaw, covered their mouths, or said, "Ooooooh!"

"That's another detention!" Professor Hawthorne snapped.

"Give me some more, I really don't care! You didn't even listen to what I had to say!"

"Another detention! Keep it up, Rollie, and you won't be playing in the next Dragonstryke match, and you will certainly be on the road toward suspension. I suggest you be quiet!"

I turned to look at Professor Henderson behind me, who seemed defeated. He nodded at me but had a slight frown.

I got the message and didn't say another word during the walk back to the Fyron Dormitory.