chapter 30

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Chapter 30

Lucy cleans up the scrapes on my knee. My eyes are puffy and everything feels heavy, my head, my eyelids droop. I can't stop sniffling, and tears keep filling my eyes, like a never ending rain storm.

Chris won't stop hovering around us both. "It's okay, honey. Go watch TV." He listens to me, putting his hand on my head, once.

Lucy stares at me, and I know she won't force anything on me, won't ask what's wrong. It comes out anyway.

"We broke up. Or something." I put my face in my hands. "I love him. I love him." I start crying again, and everything hurts the way it did when you're a child and you don't get what you want - and it feels like why can't I have this? What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this?

"I know," she says and smoothes down my hair, and rubs my back, knowing just what will comfort me.

But I can't stop shaking.

I left him. I love him. He is my first.

* * *

"Chris, eat."

"Where's Nash? Is that what you were crying about, before?" Chris asked from his place at the table. His curls were completely out of control as of late, spilling right into his eyes and making him look like a sheepdog.

I didn't deem him an answer, which of course frustrated him even more. He'd been bugging me about Nash's whereabouts for the past week, and why I was so upset, and I didn't have the heart to yell at him to stop asking because Nash - because Nash wasn't coming back.

"Where is Nash?" he asked, and his voice was taking on a whining tone that grated at my nerves.

"Stop," I snapped before I screamed he's gone he's gone he's not coming back. We're done, okay? We're done! Lucy met my eyes from across the table, warm and sympathizing. "I need - I need to -" I got up. Lucy smiled in that way of hers. The one that said: I understand.

I forced myself to walk up the steps before I cried. I clutched at my chest. Breathed in once, gasping, let it out. I didn't know when it would stop hurting. When I would stop wanting to hear from him. Wanting to never hear from him. Wondering why he hadn't tried to contact me. Wondering if he was okay. If he was hurting, like I was. If, if, if.

I can't stop picturing his eyes, his face - his beautiful, unreal face.

But he needs to heal before anything can happen between us. Because anything that happened now would be poisonous and hurtful, and I was beginning to realize something.

I deserved more.

And so did he.

* * *

Nash

"Hey, Tommy."

I scuffed my shoe on the grass, staring down at his grave.

THOMAS REYNOLDS, FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS.

"God," I said, rubbing a hand over my face. I sat down, and put my head in my hands, pulling my fingers through my hair.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," my voice cracked. "I miss you." I scrubbed at my eyes, willing the stinging sensation to go away.

I stayed until the cemetery closed. I kept my head down, stuffed my hands in my pocket. Felt like someone was sitting on my chest the whole way home.

* * * *

Aria

It had been weeks since...

Since.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 15, 2014 ⏰

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