Pressure. Pressure in my head. Pressure in my nose. Pressure in my chest.
What’s the significance of the New England Confederation?
I don’t know.
I just need to finish this test. Then I can leave.
That horrid bell rings. I drop my bag in the band hall and go to my attendance clerk. Down the C hall, up the A stairs.
Turn the corner. Oh hi. It’s you. My heart races, but despite that I smile and croak a ‘hey’ and give a small wave.
All I get in return is a look that says, ‘why are you up here? You should be in band.’
Whatever.

The attendance clerk doesn’t give me any crap. Thank you. Neither does the security guard. Thank you.

CareNow’s being a b****, so Minute Clinic it is.
Drive down there. The CVS is quiet. We walk to the back, past the makeup and magazines.
The Asian woman with too much makeup and hair dye tells us to sign in on the computer. The touch screen that barely senses my mother’s touch asks for everything about our entire existence. Why on earth do they need so much information?
My mom is struggling with typing in her email. I type the o’s in ‘yahoo’ for her. Avril Lavigne’s voice sings sweetly from the quiet speakers above.
"Ohhhh kiss me… Out on the moonlit floor…"

We wait by the diapers. “All the best for your baby.” Another says “I’m always on the move, and I have support that moves with me.” The little kid is crawling away to some unseen adventure on the orange package.

"Alex Helm?" the Asian woman calls. Lisa.
I sit down on the paper. She asks me a ton of questions. Are you pregnant?
No.
Are you nursing?
Do you even see these breasts? Hell no.
Are you allergic to any medication?
No.
No. No. No.
She puts the blood pressure thing on my arm. It squeezes. It’s really painful. I look down. I can see my veins sticking out of my skinny arms. It’s like I can feel the blood crying, trying to circulate. Why does it do that? Why am I freaking out about this?
Lisa is still asking me questions. I can barely think.
That vein. Why is it sticking out so much?
A cold feeling is washing over me. I lean back on my right hand. I try to shake the feeling away.
It’s not working.
"I think I’m about to faint," I say. Or did I just think it?

"Alex? You alright? Come on."
My mother.
I’m so confused. Why aren’t I in bed? It’s so bright in here.
I did faint. Nice. Fourth time in 5 years. I can’t deal with things happening to my arms.

I text Jared.
"I just fainted.
Swag.”