Cloud 69

55:

Mel glanced over to Cindy, who only raised her eyebrows in an opinionated way before quickly looking in the opposite direction. Mel tried Mike next, but he had already busied himself in staring off at whatever Cindy was staring off at.

Mel sighed, "Madeline, when I suggested that you kiss other people, I didn't mean quite so literally."

"You kissed me first," She said defensively.

"Once, and I didn't know," Mel paused, biting her lip as she struggled to find the right thing to say. "I didn't know that this would be the result."

"I don't know what you mean by that," Maddie responded.

Once again, Mel looked over to Cindy and Mike for help, but they pretended as though they hadn't been listening to the exchange. The two were quick to make a quiet excuse as to why they had to leave, forcing Mel to talk to Maddie alone.

Mel thought carefully before speaking next– she was too high to have any truly logical thought, but she couldn't sit by and let this continue on any longer. She kept her eyes on Madeline as she thought. The girl looked unbothered as she watched a group of guys set up a game of beer pong on the table by the side of the pool.

"Madeline," Mel started, waiting to continue until the other girl was looking at her again. Madeline's head turned slowly, a ghost of a smile on her face. "I think you need help."

"Help?" She questioned, her brows dipping down. "Like liquid courage?"

Mel shook her head, her lips remaining pursed. "No, not that kind of help, Maddie." She reached forward and took Madeline's hands into hers. "Help like therapy. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, you're depressed, Madeline."

Madeline flinched, pulling herself further back from Mel and letting her hands slip out of the girl's hold. She felt her breath hitch for a moment and her heart rate picked up again. "That's not true," She argued, anger flooding into her tone. "Y-you can't just say things like that-"

"Madeline," Mel said calmly. "What you're doing isn't healthy. Isolating yourself from your friends, getting high every night, sleeping with a bunch of different people. You're just making it worse for yourself when you finally grow tired of pretending."

Her hands shook at her sides and her heart thudded in her chest like it was trying to break through her ribcage. The familiar, sickening feeling washed over her again. The air was too warm and too thin again, and the pungent, overbearing smell of lavender came as the wind swept Mel's hair forward.

She needed to get out of here.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Madeline shot out of her seat, shaking her head disdainfully at Mel. "I don't need to hear this from you."

Mel stood up with her, her hand clasping around Madeline's to keep her from leaving. "Yes, you do. You need to hear this from someone." She brought a hand to the side of the girl's face, gently tracing the shape of her cheekbone with her thumb. "You're not okay, Madeline. You're just not."

Her stomach ached with a sensation worse than butterflies or bugs– it felt like piranhas were swimming inside of her. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, but she was not going to cry in front of Mel in the middle of a party. The touch of Mel's hand, the look in Mel's eye, the smell of Mel's hair– it was all too much. She was upset and angry, and maybe just the slightest bit sad, all at once and it was too much for her to stay any longer.

She decided she hated Mel. Mel wasn't supposed to have opinions about her. Mel wasn't supposed to judge her. Mel wasn't supposed to tell her she was broken. Mel wasn't supposed to tell her she needed fucking therapy. Mel wasn't supposed to do anything– she was just supposed to be there. Mel was supposed to just be there and not say anything, not do anything– not care.