Our Game {MARTINEZ SIBLINGS 1}

xx: soup

"Sorry uh let me backtrack. We were getting changed beforehand and we tried talking to her like we planned, but she told us to leave it alone. She didn't look too good, and we both noticed it," Fallon starts.

"We went outside and were told to run, but Dahlia really couldn't. I mean we had started our second lap and she was barely a third the way into her first." Aaliyah continues.

"She didn't seem too good, so we slowed down with her. But then she started saying our names, and we couldn't really hear. And then we did, and she mumbled something about how she hadn't eaten, and she passed out."

Shit. I'm so fucking stupid.

I bring my hand to my forehead. I am so so stupid. I should've helped her, this wouldn't have happened.

"Did she ask for me?"

"Well uh, no. But she won't talk to us, and the nurse needs some insight." Aaliyah says.

"Why in the hell do you think she would talk to me? She hates me." I sigh.

"Blake, she can say she hates you all she wants. But, we all know she's head over heels for you. She could use some help right now." Fallon consoles.

I wouldn't have thought she just had much adoration for me as I felt for her. And even if she doesn't, isn't it worth something to try?

"Ok, I'll try." I mutter.

I quietly open the door to the nurses office. There's a few people sitting in chairs waiting to talk with the nurse. I can't see her anywhere.

"Excuse me?" I whisper.

The nurse looks up from her computer to me. "Can I help you?" She asks.

"Yes, uh, I was looking for Dahlia Martinez?"

"Ah, yes, she's in that back room over there. Please let me know if you can get anything out of her." She says.

I nod slightly, anxious to walk to the room.

When I creak open the door, all I see is her. She's laying on one of those doctor office beds that you needed a stool to get up on.

Her hand is on her forehead, and her eyes are closed. I know she isn't sleeping though, because her face is in pain.

I once facetimed her and she fell asleep. She looked peaceful.

"Please go away guys, I don't want to talk about it." She whimpers.

Her voice is barely anything. I want to break down and cry at the sound of her pain.

"It's me." I admit. Her eyes open, but she stays staring at the ceiling.

I don't know if I should go towards her or stay where I'm standing.

A few tears fall from her eyes, and that's my deal breaker. I go towards her, aching for her.

She shakes her head. "Go away."

"I can't." I respond.

"Yes you can, just go."

"I don't want to."

Finally, she tears her eyes away from the ceiling, looking at me. Her face is pale, eyes more dull than normal.

I'm sure my face is contorted in some sad expression, it has to be. My Dahlia feels terrible, and all I want to do is take her pain away. She starts crying even harder. I don't know if it's because she really wants me to leave, or if she's thinking about something else.

"Why can't you just go away?" She begs.

"I. Don't. Want. To."

"Well I don't want you in here."