Life After Life

•C h a p t e r F i f t e e n•

"What the fuck," I continued to cough, pushing all the juice back up and out of the wrong pipe.

"Language, Thalia," my mom scolded.

My dad and Robert turned to look at me for a split second before they returned to their conversation. Jackson watched me with a weird look, still stuffing his mouth full of lamb chops.

"Are you okay?" Liam's hands were on my back within a second, his brows furrowed in concern. I met his gaze and for a split second, the only thing I could feel was his hand on me. It sent a rush of tingles through my body.

"Sorry honey, I didn't think I'd get such a big reaction," Susan giggled apologetically.

"I-it's fine," I croaked, swallowing hard.

He moved his hand from my back and immediately I found myself missing his touch.

"Shit," I let out a groan when I glanced down at my clothes. The juice had stained my dress and my black bra peeped out from underneath. "I'll go freshen up."

I avoided my mom's irritated expression as I got up from my seat, and hurried out of the dining room. Of all colours I had to pick black.

"I'll go help Thalia," I heard Liam say. His chair scraped against the floor as he got up.

"You don't have to follow me," I said to Liam as we walked through the hall. "I can take care of myself."

He caught up to me within a few seconds, an amused eyebrow raised, "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

"N-no," I sighed, realizing that I'd barely even seen the house besides the foyer and the dining room.

"Come," he nodded towards the staircase and I followed him up. We walked silently up the stairs and down the hall. My eyes trailed over the mounds of family photos hanging, consisting of Liam and his parents throughout the years on vacation in different parts of the world. My eyebrows knitted together when he led me into his room.

It was a beautiful room, even larger than my own. Unlike the rest of the house, the walls were an enchanting shade of midnight blue while the bedsheets were grey. Random posters hung on the wall on one side and a desk leant on the other side of the room. Above the desk was a billboard, covered with ribbons and certificates.

"Is there not a bathroom downstairs?" I asked, shuffling on my feet awkwardly as I stood by the door of his room.

"Your dress," he said as he brushed past me into his room. I swallowed hard, following him inside. He stepped into his walk-in closet and dug around before he pulled out a black t-shirt.

I glanced down at the yellow stain on my white dress, and the black fabric of my bra that was still noticeable.

"I'm just going to go home," I told Liam with a sigh. "I don't need your shirt."

"You think your mom will let you leave?" he raised an eyebrow, a small, crooked smile spreading over his lips.

No, but I wasn't to going to ask. I thought to myself.

He tossed the shirt to me from where he was standing. I caught it in my hands smoothly as he approached me, shutting the closet door behind him.

"Thanks, but I don't need this," I tossed it back to him and within a second, his shirt was thrown back, smacking me in the face.

"Put on the damn shirt, Ophelia," he said. "I'm just trying to help you. Your mom will be furious if she sees that stain on you."

I stared at him for a few moments, and he returned it with a hard stare. Finally, I gave in, sighing. I didn't want help from anyone, but Liam was right. My mom would be angry at me if I went back out without covering the stain. If I washed it off, I'd have to wait another ten minutes for my dress to dry.