There was a time when Halloween meant something to me. Now, as I walked slowly down the hallway to the gym after my classes had breezed by, where supposedly a cross country meeting was being held, I didn't feel the energy.

Perhaps it was just that I lacked enthusiasm, but either way I felt sick every time I passed a student with a stupid costume on.

I knew why it bothered me, obviously. I didn't want to think about it, but my mother not being in my life anymore definitely contributed to my Halloween depression.

My parents and I used to all go together. I remember my mother walking up the steps with me to the doors of houses, nudging me forward and telling me to say thank you every time I walked away.

When I'd get home, we'd separate the candies in piles- a pile for Twix, a pile for KitKats, a pile for Skittles and all the other named candies. Every candy that didn't have a specific name, like the colored gum balls in clear plastic wrappers, would be placed in a pile away from the others because it was different. According to my young mind, the candy had to have a name.

Come to think of it, I isolated a piece of candy just because it was unalike from the others. And now, looking at me, I am the colored gum ball in a trick-or-treating bag.

When I reached the gym, I spotted Vera and silently took a seat next to her. I placed my belongings down and immediately my attention was somehow dragged to Mr. Lee, as if it were a magnetic force. It felt like it, to say the least.

Mr. Lee stepped in front of the students and everybody quieted down.

"Only because it's Halloween, there will be no practice today," Mr. Lee spoke, his eyes falling over all the students, absorbing each and every detail of their teenage faces.

Most of the students cheered or hooted, but out of all the noises, a tiny, sad and unheard sigh escaped my mouth.

"However," he intervened, everybody quieting down again. "Practice will still take place, but it is not mandatory. That is all. Stay safe and please do be careful. I know most of you are going to drink, but please limit the amount and always have a designated and responsible driver." After he said that, his beautiful eyes rotated to me and although he was far away, I held my breath in anticipation.

The students began to hoot again. They all jumped off the bleachers and made their way out of the gym, but I stayed glued to the seat. Vera turned to look at me.

"I would ask you to come to a party with me, but I know you're not really into them," she said, nervously playing with the tips of her blue hair, curling and unwinding it around her pointer finger. "We could just hang out and order a pizza or something, if you'd like."

I could immediately tell that she didn't want to do that. Why should I take away her opportunity to have a good time? Just because I was antisocial didn't mean she had to be dragged along with me. She was probably going to see that guy again, anyways. Donnie, I think his name was. I didn't feel uncomfortable about him anymore, but I still didn't think he was the best influence. But as they all say, to each his own.

I didn't have the room to talk anyways, though. I wasn't exactly in the best position. At least Vera liking Donnie was legal. I sure as hell couldn't say the same.

I took out my worn-out notepad. Go ahead. We can hang out on the weekend or something, I wrote.

"Are you sure?" She asked, her blue doe eyes glancing up at me innocently.

I nodded and she patted me on the hand. "Hang in there." She said softly, her eyes dulling with pity as a sad smile replaced her lips. And she got off the bleachers, and she left, leaving only me on the rows of bleachers, and Mr. Lee and Mr. Falliner talking from afar.

I slowly stepped down the bleachers, swallowing the lump of nerves that had bunched up in my throat. I threw my backpack over my shoulder and advanced over to the two teachers, silently telling myself that it was okay, that they knew I had selective mutism, that I didn't have to be insecure around them.

But either way, my insecurities were always there, waiting around the corner of my mentality like a monster silently stalking its prey.

As I got closer, their conversation started to tune in.

"-the kids said they wanted to go for ice cream after trick or treating, and when I said it'd be too late to go out, they both sat cross legged on the floor in front of me and started crying." Mr. Falliner was saying. "So now we have to go early so we have time for ice cream. I always give in to their innocent faces." He chuckled.

I already felt Mr. Lee looking at me through the corner of his eye, his responses to Mr. Falliner's talk of his kids obviously limited. But when Mr. Falliner noticed me, they both turned and my cheeks heated up out of discomfort.

I sheepishly waved at Mr. Falliner and then turned to Mr. Lee.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said quietly to both teachers, but instantly regretting how pathetic I sounded. Grabbing my pen, I finished on my notepad. I will be going to practice today.

"Looks like you two will be the only ones going. Sorry I can't make it," Mr. Falliner said as I showed both of them the notepad. It felt good to not have to worry about looking like a freak with my notepad. At least they understood the reasoning behind why my words had to be written instead of spoken.

Mr. Falliner distractedly said a quick goodbye and headed out of the gym, leaving the two of us to drink in the silence.

When it was just the two of us, I became aware of my surroundings instantaneously, as if it were a distraction. The hum of the annoyingly loud air conditioning vents on the ceiling. The tiny dust particles that flew around on the gym floor from the air. The American flag in the corner of the giant room that flapped against the wall. And, of course, the steady sound of my heart beat, the rate increasing every time I sucked in a breath.

"Practice should be fun today," Mr. Lee finally said, breaking the silence completely. "Meet me on the track in twenty minutes. I'm going to work you hard today- this beautiful day should not be wasted."

Work me hard? My mouth intuitively opened and I sucked down a breath. I knew this was common for coaches to say, although sometimes I still couldn't wrap around the fact that he was my coach, let alone him saying he was going to work me hard.

He smirked and walked away, and I literally gaped at him. When he left the gym and disappeared into the hallway, I stood in the same spot for an extra five minutes, trying very hard to ignore the clenching of my stomach and my annoyingly heated cheeks.

Before I went to the locker room to prepare for my one-on-one practice, I stopped by Mr. Garcia's office. He was locking his office door, bags in hand, when his energetic eyes met mine and a familiar smile curled his lips.

"Hi Poppy!" He said. "What are your plans for Halloween?"

I grabbed my notepad. Cross country practice, I wrote.

"On Halloween?" He asked, chuckling. I nodded. "Well, you might as well do what you love. Don't get too tired out. My husband and I are going out to eat tonight."

His husband? I knew it! I knew he was gay! The way he said it so casually caused me to feel so envious of his natural pride. I smiled at him.

"Have fun," I said quietly. He quickly ruffled my hair and walked away, calling out, "you too!" His voice bounced around in the almost empty hallways.

As I made my way to the locker room, I happened to love the complete silence. Occasionally a janitor would pass by while rolling down a trash can, the wheels breaking the silence, but he would smile kindly and walk on, completely oblivious to the person that I was. I liked not being judged, it was very relaxing.

After changing into a t-shirt and shorts, I bent down and began to tie my shoes, but my fingertips somehow kept shaking to the point where I couldn't control them. I had about five minutes until I had to meet Mr. Lee.

"Relax," I whispered into the empty locker room, my fingers fiddling with the laces. I plopped down on the ground and laid down completely, the dirty locker room floor feeling somehow comfortable. I stared up at the ceiling and waited for my breathing to calm down.

When I finally collected myself, I stood back up, tied the laces in a careless, lose knot, and walked out onto the track, my head held high in a pathetic attempt at being confident, and mentally prepared for the beautiful human being standing on the track, ready to "work me hard."