I don't know if I thought I was going to cry more as the day drew nearer, but I just find myself feeling more and more numb. It's like my brain can't comprehend what's actually happening, so it's simply blocking everything out with no filter.

Maybe that's its way of protecting me, but it certainly isn't effective. The less I feel, the more I long to feel, and I'll leave the obvious unsaid.

On Monday, Mr. Philip avoided eye contact with me. Good. Charlotte, on the other hand, wanted to know what he'd wanted to talk to me about, being nosy as always, batting her annoyingly perfect eyelashes as she asked, "He didn't yell at you or anything, right?"

My jaw set, I tried my best to stare into that girl's soul. "Back off, Charlotte. I'm not in the mood."

On Tuesday, it started raining sometime after lunch and it continued on through Wednesday. One of the guys picked me up from school each day, Gerard suddenly not wanting me to be left alone all the time, even if that meant taking a bit of time off and letting work pile up. I told him it was fine, I could've walked home. He wasn't going to let me walk in the rain though. I could "catch a cold," but at this point maybe I want to get sick again to avoid another pointless day of school.

Yesterday, I went to one last therapy session before doomsday. I forced a smile and feigned indifference. Optimism, even. I'd had a change of heart, or so Sam was lead to believe (though I wouldn't be surprised if she guessed it was all an act) all because I didn't want to face the way I truly felt. Over dinner that day, Gerard and Lindsey reminded me with bright faces that we're going to watch a Harry Potter movie for our next movie night because they're my favourite: Yet another attempt at cheering me up.

I didn't even flinch.

I don't even bother trudging up to my room when Gerard and I walk in after school. I simply drop my stuff at the door and go to the living room, collapsing on the couch, exhaling all the breath I have in my lungs.

Lindsey pops her head in. "Hey, Eve. How was school?"

My head is in my hands and I don't look up as I reply, "Fine. Same as always."

Same as always as in I didn't even try to write my notes neatly, or revise any work before handing it in, or even erase anything rather than scribbling over my mistakes. What's the point in trying when it's all going to go away?

I hear her sigh softly before she goes back to the kitchen. At first I think she's just stopped caring completely. That she's left me alone to wallow in my misery. I do some similar, pathetic thing every day, so why keep trying to help? But then I realize she and Gerard probably had a snippet of a conversation I wasn't a part of. Something along the lines of him mouthing, "I got it," or, "I'll handle it."

He sits on the couch next to me, putting an arm around me and pulling me into him. "Nice hoodie," he says.

"I'll go change if you want it back," I say.

"No. Keep it."

Although Gerard knows me better than I know myself sometimes, it shows that he's still just human, not some hero with hyper-attention who has any reason to think it suspicious that I haven't worn short sleeves in a long time. Good thing he shares my opinion that you can never own too many hoodies.

When I don't say anything, he keeps talking as though everything is fine. "You know which Harry Potter movie you wanna watch tonight?"

I shrug. "First one, I guess."

"Good choice."

I nod. "I'm so tired, Dad."

"Did you sleep okay? You didn't have any more nightmares, did you?"

"Every night." Finally letting go of any drop of pride I had left, I mumble the truth. "They're just getting worse."

"Oh, Evie. Why didn't you tell me?"

Because there are a lot of things I haven't told you.

"I didn't want to keep you up all night."

"Don't worry about that," he says. "I wanna help, and if that means staying by your side all night, then—"

"I don't need you to do that, and don't even argue, 'cause you need sleep too."

He decides against arguing, but holds me a little closer. "Well, there's still time 'til the guys get here." I take that as an invitation to use him as a pillow, and shift so that my head is on his lap. Closing my eyes, I try and relax all my muscles so that I sink into the couch cushions. He brushes some hair off my forehead, and just before I doze off, says gently, "Everything'll be back to normal soon, Evie."

It feels as though all I did was blink rather than take an hour long nap, but when I wake up it's thanks to Frank, poking my face repeatedly.

"Eve." Poke. "Eve." Poke. "Eve." Poke. "Eve—"

"I'm awake," I groan, rubbing my eyes. When they finally adjust, I take in Frank, crouched on the floor next to me. "Dad, why'd you let him do that?"

"There are worse ways I could've woken you up," Frank reasons.

"He's got a point there," Ray pipes up from the end of the couch. "One time on tour he dumped a bucket of ice water on me."

Mikey, from the other side of the room, laughs. "I told him to do that."

My eyes flit from Ray to Mikey as they speak like I'm watching a tennis match. "When did you all get here?"

Mikey shrugs. "A few minutes ago."

"I wasn't gonna let them wake you up at first," Gee says, "but then Frankie was getting impatient."

"What can I say, I like Harry Potter, too," Frank says as though that defends his case.

Well, shit. Now I'm thinking about the case again. It's happening on Monday and every time my minds drifts to it (which is all too often), my stomach starts to twist itself in knots. I haven't been very hungry recently.

"Eve? Evelyn?" I snap back to reality to find Gerard waving a hand in front of my face and the others looking at me in concern.

"Huh?"

"You were totally spaced out."

I sit up out of my outstretched position, giving Mikey room to sit between me and Ray as Frank is still on the floor. "Sorry. I'm back now."

"What were you thinking about?" Mikey asks. There's a hint of caution in his voice, and that may be due to the time someone asked me this and my immediate response was "death".

"The same thing I've been thinking about since we got that stupid letter."

It's at this moment that Lindsey walks in carrying two big bowls of snacks and sets them on the coffee table, then settles in an arm chair before resting her hands on her baby bump. "Come on, Girly," she says. "We're all hanging out, we're gonna watch a movie, we've got snacks; try and focus on the good things!"

If it wasn't for Frank sitting at my feet, I would've launched myself off the couch in frustration. "I can't just cheer up like you all want me to, alright!? Because you know what all this feels like to me right now?" I ask, gesturing to nothing in particular. Everyone shakes their heads, slightly shocked looks on their faces in response to my outburst. "This feels like a going away party."

Their faces fall.

"But this is our thing, Evie. Our Friday night thing," Gerard insists.

"But it feels different this time."

"You really think we're gonna lose the case," Frank says. It's not a question.

I shrug.

Realistically, I can't be sure. But that's what I feel like I've been: Realistic. While everyone else was busy being optimistic about this whole thing, having high hopes, I've been letting my hopes drop to the floor.

The energy lingering amongst the group for the rest of the night is tense and uncomfortable with underlying sadness. I've ruined what might be our last movie night together, just like I ruin so many other things, and I deserve to be punished for it. Not even the twinkling, fantastical music that plays behind scenes of the wizard of world manage to raise my spirits.

• • •

this was 100% a filler chapter sorry