Malory and Kyle must participate in the annual April Fest production as the leading co-stars. If they can cooperate by the end of the production, their long records of uncivilized behaviour towards each other will be forgotten. 
Malory and Kyle attempt to cooperate, grabbing the opportunity to make a positive impact on their own future. In the process, they become entangled in the chaos of the other’s personal life. Malory learns of Kyle’s disturbing reality, and Kyle learns of Malory’s scarring past. Can these two brilliant but messy teens learn to rely on each other in the face of their silent battles?

Between The Lines

 I shove my chemistry books into my locker and slam the door, connecting my fist with the metal. 


 Maybe I thought things were changing. 


 Who the fuck does he think he is talking about some bullshit rivalry? 


 And why did I get so riled up that I couldn’t even talk to Ron after that? 


 I genuinely feel like if someone were to poke me right now I’d explode. 


 Too much could go wrong. The dumb production would be jeopardized by my absense. The principal could call my uncle. Malory knows where I live. 


 I punch the locker again, and students around me all stare at the sound of the abrasion before they silently creep away. 


 I back away from the locker and rush off to the boys’ toilets, but as I bend the corner, I bump into him. 


 I trip backwards at the impact, and so does Adrien. 


 “Davidson! What the hell happened to your face!?” 


 Adrien’s annoyed eyes go wide with concern. 


 I fix my hair. Malory didn’t help me out with any cover ups because of our falling out. She didn’t show up and she didn’t try to talk to me. I regret what I said to her. But what can I do about that now? 


 “It’s none of your business,” I tell him. 


 He steps back and raises his hands in surrender, “Okay.” 


 I walk off, and head towards the field –stopping behind the bleachers. 


 No one ever really goes there. The bleachers were never as popular as people think they are. 


 I drop to the ground behind it. I know no one will find me. 


 My heartbeat is so fast I feel faintish as I clutch my chest. 


 If that prick rats me out I’m going to be in another huge, unwanted mess! 


 I run a hand through my hair and grip at it tightly as heavy tears make their way down my cheeks. 


 I let go of my hair and look down at my hands –they’re trembling uncontrollably with anxiety. 


 I clench them into fists but my hands don’t stop shaking. 


 I drag my legs upward to hug them to my chest. 


 Breathing is so, so hard. I feel like I’m choking. 


Brewing Angst [5]