Joey remained silent during the entire lunch period. The bubbly group of giantesses who welcomed us with open arms to their table had plenty to say to fill in the empty space. They were still exhilarated from their victory over Drake, the jerk that was universally hated among the girls. All the noise and attention was a bit overwhelming for me, but fortunately the giantesses were respectful enough to keep their hands to themselves, unless I gave them express permission to touch or hold me. I allowed them to satisfy their curiosity once I became more comfortable, as long as they were gentle. I was still a bit shaken by the events of earlier, but I recovered quickly. I was gradually growing accustomed to the wild ride that inevitably accompanied being surrounded by giant people hundreds of times my size.

I hated seeing Joey in pain like this. I wanted to comfort him and tell him everything would be alright. However, I couldn't lie to him; I didn't know if we would have a happy ending after all. The incident that had just occurred highlighted my predicament and cemented the nagging belief that I wasn't safe here. Why was life so horribly unfair and cruel? Bitterness and rage seeped into my heart like a terrible poison.

Lunch passed by faster than I expected, and before I knew it Joey was corralling me into his hand to take me to my third period class, the class that due to extenuating circumstances I had yet to attend. He seemed deflated and dragged his feet as he moved.

"Where's your next class at?" Joey asked wearily, sounding far away, like he was drifting into a void.

"Uhh... room 3. It's my elective class, art," I replied.

Joey stopped. "Really? I'm in that class." His voice was monotone, dead, devoid of feeling. He continued walking. When we made it to the classroom, Joey gently deposited me in one of the human seats and claimed a giant desk adjacent to mine. I was comforted by his presence, as morose and distant as he was. He slumped down in his chair and fingered his bruises with one hand. They were a distasteful, ugly reminder of an undeniable truth. He was clearly in pain—just as much an emotional pain as physical.

Other giant students filtered in around us until the bell signaled the start of class and the art teacher strolled in. She was an odd giantess, with untamed frizzy hair and dressed in bright, eccentric colors. She passed out sheets of thick, quality art paper to the students, until she got to me. Cocking an eyebrow, she left to rummage through her supplies and returned with a sheet of paper my size pinched between her fingertips. She carefully laid it on my desk, making an effort not to crumble or crease it.

"Nice of you to finally join us," she remarked dryly.

"It's good to finally be here," I answered with a canned response.

She went to the front of the room to address the class. "Today we're doing portraits," she announced. "I want you to pair up with another student. First half of the class, one student will be the model and the other will draw them. Then, you'll switch roles in the second half. Any questions?" Nobody said anything. The students broke away in small groups and began sketching each other. Joey and I were more than happy to work together. Joey collected me in his hand and tenderly set me down on his desk close to him. He had perked up a bit from his despondent mood when he heard we'd be working together.

"I'll draw you first," I decided. Joey struck a casual pose and observed me with his chocolate eyes while I sketched him. I enjoyed drawing but I wasn't especially talented. I drew large, filling the entire page, with the hope that Joey would be able to see my work. Drawing from my skewed perspective, staring up at Joey's chin, was challenging, but I managed to churn out a sketch that was at least proportional. I made liberal use of my eraser to fix the minor flaws and added some basic shading.

"Time's up," the art teacher declared. "Go ahead and switch."

Feeling slightly embarrassed by my mediocre art skills, I presented Joey with his portrait. He removed his glasses and moved his gigantic eye right up to the page, squinting to make out the details.

"Wow," he said. "Do I really look like that from your perspective? That angle is pretty wonky." He laughed, and I laughed too, finding his laughter adorable and infectious. "I like it. Nice work." I blossomed with delight under his praise. "I suppose I should draw you how I usually see you, in my hand. Do you mind?" He curved his fingers underneath me and I acquiesced, scooting over and laying down comfortably in the palm of his hand in what I hoped was a seductive pose. Joey put his glasses back on, pulled a set of fancy art pencils out of his bag, and got to drawing.

I couldn't see his sketch from his hand in the pose I was holding, so I focused on his face instead. His eyes were intense, darting between me and his drawing. His drawing hand moved a lot, and I appreciated the satisfying scratch of the pencil against the paper. He switched pencils a few times and slowed his pace, filling in the finer details and shades. Eventually he paused, regarded his work, and bobbed his head with satisfaction.

"You want to see?" I nodded eagerly and crawled over to the edge of his hand to take a look. My jaw dropped; I was amazed. I had no idea that Joey was such a talented artist. The bold lines and soft shades made it appear as if the drawing was three-dimensional, alive, popping off the page of its own volition. The drawing was huge, since a giant had created it, making me appear larger than life. I was touched by the consideration and care given to every detail. He made me look petite and beautiful, more so than I ever would be in reality. Was that how Joey saw me, when I was cradled in his palm? The addition of his hand was a heartwarming touch as well.

"It's... it's remarkable, Joey! I love it!" I expressed. "I didn't know you could draw so well!"

"Yeah... it's a hobby of mine," Joey replied, a bashful smile creeping up the edge of his lips. "Of course, it's easy to draw when I have such a lovely model." I blushed, charmed by his honest flattery.

His expression clouded over. "At least... if you go, and I never see you again... I'll have something to remember you by." His lips tightened into a forlorn frown, and his eyeballs swam in liquid in their sockets.

"Joey..." was all I could muster in response, my heart developing fresh wounds again. Our moment was interrupted by the teacher patrolling the class, who had spotted Joey's sketch.

"Great work as always, Joey!" the giantess praised. She struggled to squint at my work. "You're going to have to use your laptop for that picture, sweetie. I can't see it." She walked away to the next pair of students. Mr. Henderson must have spoken to her and explained my situation. I figured he would have to, with all the classes I had missed.

Joey reached over and gently collected my backpack from the human desk so I could use my laptop. His arm was long enough that he didn't need to get out of his seat. He watched, slightly bemused by my tiny little gadget, as I snapped a photo of my sketch and emailed it to the teacher. I sent it in just in time for the bell to ring, heralding the end of the school day. Joey carefully packed up his drawing in a folder where it wouldn't get squished in his bag. I did the same with my drawing, even though it wasn't to the same caliber as Joey's masterpiece. Once I was ready to go, Joey picked me up and left the classroom.

"Well... I suppose there's no point in waiting any longer. You should probably take me to Mr. Henderson's office," I said to Joey. "We might as well get this over with."

The giant stared down at me, his eyes brimming with pools of melancholy. "Alright."

I hoped desperately that I wasn't making the wrong decision. I had weighed the options heavily in my head and my heart, and the scales tipped ever so slightly in favor of one outcome over the other. I could chew it over for days, weeks, months, like a dog gnawing on a bone, and the pendulum would swing back and forth, but ultimately I must choose. My body or my soul, my reason or my emotions, safety or blissful freedom—I recognized, in this instance, that none of these would ever be in alignment, and I couldn't wait for everything to magically work itself out, while the weight of indecision slowly crushed me into a bloody pulp. Whether I liked it or not, I had to finalize my decision, and never look back on what I had lost.

As Joey traversed the halls, he moved in the opposite direction of the majority of the crowd, which consisted of students making their way out to enjoy their weekend of freedom. With his gigantic physique, he separated the living, flowing mass of students in two before us and forged ahead, like parting the Red Sea. Somewhere out in the wave of giants I spied blue eyes like ice glaring daggers at me. It was the dangerous stare of a predator lying in wait, a monster from my worst nightmares waiting to consume me whole. However, the shark in the sea of giants dared not approach, and disappeared into the waves as swiftly as he had materialized. I shuddered, curling up into the safety of Joey's hand. Had I just imagined the sight? Was my paranoid mind playing tricks on me? Perhaps.

We made it to the administration offices at the end of the hallway, where the space was no longer crowded. The door to the office that once belonged to the principal was left ajar. The office had been gutted, the desk and walls bare and empty. At least the lair of that particular beast had been purged. The door to Mr. Henderson's office was closed. Joey glanced at me, then rapped his knuckles on the dark wood.

"Come in," Mr. Henderson called out from inside. Joey exhaled, then gripped the doorknob and turned it, opening the door. Mr. Henderson was buried under a mound of paperwork piled up on his desk.

"Joey! Eren! I didn't expect to see you so soon," he greeted us warmly. He seemed eager for an excuse to procrastinate on his work. Joey sat down and placed me on the desk so I could talk to Mr. Henderson. When the vice principal saw Joey's distressed features, his smile faded and he grew serious. "Eren, I spoke with your mother, and with some convincing she agreed to cooperate with what we discussed. Now, have you decided what you're going to do?"

"I have," I declared. Was I really going to go through with this? I looked back at Joey, who was inches away from crying. Then, I studied Mr. Henderson's face closely. He had coached himself into a neutral expression, so as not to sway me in one direction or the other, but I could see anxiety swimming just under the surface.

I cleared my throat, stood up straight, and took a deep breath. "I want to stay."