Stanford
Melissa Henderson always lets the door of her dorm open when she's in her room, because she likes to have oxygen. Those past days have been so intense that she leaves it wide open because she is lacking of air.
Of course Christen knows that. She also knows that Mel likes to have a Thai Latte in the morning while walking to class - because she doesn't like either bikes or cars - or that she always stretches out after training, right after everybody leaves. It's those small things that Christen likes in her, and also the way she is standing for herself, and for the others. Those past few days, the blonde has been protecting the younger girls of the team, probably forgetting to take some time for herself apart from her revisions for the upcoming exams. In between training sessions and classes, Christen never has the time to talk to her.
So today, she managed to postpone an appointment only to check on the girl. Of course she doesn't want to make it seem that way, but deep inside she knows she only needs to know if Mel is okay, before nobody is really asking. Or maybe she's never saying the truth while answering, because nobody tries enough.
Christen doesn't even knock on the door and says :
"Hey, it's Chris. Can I come in ?"
"Sure" the blonde immediately answers.
Christen finds Mel sitting on her bed, books all around her. As Mel is focusing on her work, the dark-haired sits down on the side of her bed. The blonde ignores her at first, but after a few minutes of Christen staring at her intensively, she lifts her eyes and meets with hers.
She then sighs.
"Yes ?"
"How are you ?" Christen asks calmly, serious.
"Good, and you ?"
Christen smirks.
"I'm going to ask the question one more time, but this time I want a real answer, Henderson. How are you ?"
"How am I ?"
There is a tensed silence.
Of course Christen knows Mel doesn't like to talk about herself, or even puts herself first in any kind of situations. She's built walls all around her, that Christen is ready to climb if she has to, and even lose a leg in the process if it's needed.
Mel smirks.
"How am I ?" she repeats, thoughtful, putting her pen down. "I am good. I have to be. Sometimes I feel nauseous, pretty much tensed all the time. But overall I am good. At least better than Whitney Engen."
"Melissa, don't..." Christen starts.
"It's not a joke, Chris. I'm at that point where I survive, but I don't live. Yesterday, I spent hours trying to convince Andi and Jessie that everything would be all right. And they don't even know about what Hope and Jerramy did, so I guess I just tried to convince myself. They think I'm crazy now."
Her soft laugh invades Christen's ears and makes her shiver, but she doesn't lose focus. She closes Melissa's laptop, as the blonde grimaces.
"You don't have to lie to me" the Latina says. "I know you're not doing okay by the only fact that you're avoiding me because you know I'm the only person that can see through your mask. So I'm asking the question a third and final time : how are you ?"
