It all started with a game

Chapter 17

Klaus opened the door, smiling at the two of us. "You've officially been discharged. We can go home."

Thank goodness.

Klaus had been taking care of everything: paperwork, food, entertainment, school. He even listened to the doctor's instructions while I stared off into space thinking about fictional characters.

I had to say, I was glad to be going home. This place brought up too many memories I never wished to revisit.

I grabbed my bag, placing my book inside. As we made our way to the elevator, my hand unconsciously found its way down to fiddle with the small plastic ring upon my finger. My brothers had told me the story. I should have taken the ring off but when do I ever do what I'm supposed to.

I like to think that I looked extra cool with my cheap, paper shades to keep the sun from killing my eyes. Turns out I had a concussion, and let me tell you, trying to read with sunglasses is a pain in the butt. Granted I wasn't supposed to be reading, or looking at my phone but again, I don't like to listen. "Thank you for the book by the way." I told Klaus, finally remembering to tell him; I'd been meaning to for days. "I really like it. I think it may be my new favorite, just barely. You can't top-" I cut myself off, knowing which book I was going to say, my all time favorite one, or at least it had been before I met Ryder. Now everytime I think of it, all I think of is Ryder, after all, it was the book that started this whole thing.

"The book wasn't from me," Klaus said casually as he started the car.

Huh? Was it from Sonny? "Who brought it?"

"Ryder did. He asked me to give it to you."

My face fell as I tried not to think too much into it. I didn't want to hear about Ryder. I didn't want to think about the fact that he brought me a book and I didn't want to think about the fact that he picked out one of the best books I've ever read. I didn't want to think about that and I didn't want to think about him.

Klaus had other plans though, "Speaking of which, have you spoken to him yet?"

I stared out the window, mumbling like a child. "No."

"Are you planning on talking to him soon?"

"No."

Klaus let the silence speak for him, the almost disappointing tone of his voice still lingering in the air, like a scratch you couldn't itch that was slowly driving you to insanity. "I just can't talk to him." I tried to justify my actions. "I don't want to see him anymore and I don't want to play the game anymore, okay? Can we just leave it at that?" I crossed my arms, refusing to look at either of my siblings.

"Don't you think you should at least tell him that in person?"

I hated that Klaus was always the mature one. "I can't see him." If I saw him, I'd crumble like freshly baked cookies, and all I'd want to do would be to tell him about the nurse who wouldn't stop trying to force feed me jello, because Ryder knows how much I hate jello and he'd find the story hilarious. So I couldn't see him.

"Beatrice," Klaus tried once more.

I couldn't. Ryder saw. He saw all of it. I tried everything to keep him from seeing: makeup, sleeves, pants, tights, socks. I never let him hold my left hand, I always stood to the left of him, I made sure to wear an extra tank top under my shirts most of the time just in case. I had done everything. But he still saw, and he touched it.

He saw me for I am, he saw every inch of my grotesque body. How could he ever look at me the same after that? Now everytime he sees me all he's going to think about is the fact that under all the makeup and the clothes, I looked like a dried up slug you'd find on the blacktop at recess. He'll never be able to look at me the same.