"Earth to Leila," Nicole waves her hand in front of my face. I blink rapidly, returning my focus to our current environment. English Lit has just ended, but I could not tell you anything our teacher said throughout the period. Ever since I received that email from Carter five days ago, I have been zoning out of real life and overthinking the end of my existence. Since Saturday, he has sent me three more emails, all containing a similar message to the first, all with a new attached photo of me from various parties with different people.

I spent countless hours over the past five days staring at those pictures, analyzing them, and tallying up the numerous objects displayed in them that have the potential to ruin my new life. I look exactly the same in each picture, the same sloppy smile, unfocused eyes, long messy hair, dark makeup. Losing sleep over these emails and the pictures of my former self has me looking not too different from that girl.

"Are you okay?" Nicole asks, stopping me just outside our classroom. "You've been kind of distant this week."

"Nicole, you're going to be late for class," I state, looking at the clock on the opposite hallway wall. I really do not want to talk about this now. It's too early in the day to get into my horrific past and all the events that lead to me moving here in the first place.

"I really don't give a rat's ass if I'm late. I'm worried about you!" She startles me by pulling me into a hug. I relax in her embrace and wrap my arms around her. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, begging me to let them fall. I squeeze the shut, allowing only a single tear to escape before pulling myself together.

"I love you, you know that right?" I whisper to her. My friend pulls me in tighter as the late bell rings and the hallway empties.

"I love you, too," she says, stepping away from me, hands still on my shoulders. "What do you say we skip our next class and go pick up some takeout to bring to lunch?"

I smile in agreement, afraid that if I speak anymore of my gratitude to her I will be reduced to a crying mess of a human. She takes my hand and walks us out of the building and and through the school grounds.

It takes us only ten minutes of leisurely walking to find ourselves on Main Street. Thankfully, Nicole walks us into a place without saying anything. We stay silent, hands still locked together, until we place our orders for sandwiches and apple cider. Taking a seat at a table to wait for our orders to be called, Nicole looks at me, silently asking for some sort of explanation to my behavior.

"It sounds stupid, but I got an email from someone back in California that is no longer in my life and it kind of freaked me out," I tell her, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"It's not stupid," she says, a sympathetic smile on her face. Her kind blue eyes still look concerned. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine, but I hate seeing you like this. I want to help if I can."

I can't lie to her. My beautiful, kind-hearted, unassumingly filthy-mouthed friend. But I can't tell her the whole truth, either. At least not yet.

"Carter Hayes and I used to be best friends. Not like how you and I or even Nate and I are best friends. We were toxic for each other," I begin. "As you probably assumed, my parents died and that's why my aunt and uncle are my guardians now. I was a mess after their deaths, so I was placed in therapy to try and get help to cope with it. That's where I met Carter."

I pause, looking at Nicole to try and gauge where her head is at with all of this information. I also may have stopped for myself, too. This is the first time I have admitted to anyone that my parents are dead and I was in therapy for it. She stays silent, but her face is still kind and encouraging so I press on.

"Carter encouraged me to deal with the deaths, but not in a healthy way. We partied. A lot. With bad people. I didn't like the person I was becoming with him, so I stopped being friends with him. I guess he was hurt, maybe even a little betrayed by that, so now he has been sending pictures of me at my worst. I'm just scared he might send them to everyone and I'll lose all of you guys because of it."

"Leila," Nicole takes my hand from across the table. "There is nothing in this world that would make me not want to be friends with you. So what? You partied a lot back in California while you were going through personal issues. You probably made some mistakes, but that is nothing to be ashamed of. Carter is an asshole and you shouldn't waster your time thinking about what he may or may not do. Just block his email account and focus your energy on who you are now."

"You're the best," I say, finally letting the tears fall. "And I have blocked him, but he keeps making new accounts to send me more pictures."

"I'll help you make a new account and Nate can put some extra security on it," Nicole suggests. I look at her blankly. "Oh, Nate may be a soccer head jock, but he's a computer whiz, too. You don't have to tell him the full story, he'll help you no matter what."

I feel guilty because I haven't even told her the full story of my life. But I just thank her and smile softly. Our lunch orders are called and we pick up the take-out bags at the counter. We walk back out into the early fall air, a few fallen leaves crunching under our shoes as we make our way back to school.

"Okay, this may be ridiculous," I say after taking a sip of my apple cider. "but seeing those pictures of myself makes me think I haven't changed all that much. I look exactly the same as I did back when I was at my lowest point."

"I have a brilliant idea!" Nicole exclaims, grabbing my forearm suddenly. "Come to the salon with me after school tomorrow! Remember I told you my girlfriend works there? She's redoing my roots and I'm sure she can book you in so you can change up your hair."

"Do you really think a new haircut will make me feel any different?" I question. I haven't had my haircut in years, just a small trim here or there. For as long as I can remember, it's always been long and dark brown.

"Oh, trust me," Nicole says with a mischievous smile. "A cut, color, and gorgeous blowout will have you feeling like an entirely different person."