Two Gangs and a Golden Girl

Chapter 38, The big reveal

"Let's go..." Blake says and because it's just him and me and I feel like I'm going to fall into a place I don't want to be, I reach out with my hand.

"Can... can you hold my hand? I need something to hold onto," I whisper.

And I don't just mean physically. I need someone to hold me here. To hold me where I'm still Amber - the nice girl with paint on her and not Amber - the girl with no feelings and that can't pick up a paint brush.

"Always..." Blake breathes and takes my hand.

We walk to Lynch's hospital room in complete silence. Almost two weeks ago, I would've burned his hand if it even came close to me. I would rather spend a night in a snake pit than in the West-side gang house, but now...

Now Blake doesn't smell like smoke and he's not calling me 'darling' and it scares me that the cocky smile is gone as well.

Slowly, we step into the hospital room.

The first thing I pick up is the slow, steady beat of the heart monitor, which is great, but also scary because he needs a heart monitor. The second thing is the smell of blood and medicine that's floating around. The blood sits like a bitter pill at the back of my mouth. The room is so cold, it's like death is waiting to collect it's next victim. And then I see him.

Lynch. Poor, sweet, innocent Lynch that's as still as a corpse on the hospital bed.

He's so pale with the loss of blood that he almost looks blue. But what gets me most is the lack of hair... There's a giant bandage at the back of his head, but at the front... His head looks so much smaller without all the curls, that I barely recognize him.

If he ever wakes up, he's going to hate it...

"Do you know why Lynch always goes on about his hair?" Blake asks in monotone while we stare at the 15-year-old boy. I suddenly remember we're still holding hands.

"Why?"

Blake swallows a knot in his throat before he answers. "His dad had exactly the same hair, but after he was diagnosed with cancer, lost everything due to chemotherapy... When his dad eventually died, Lynch's mom was always hanging around the West to look for drugs... I didn't realize the woman had a son at home and neither did my dad at the time.

"When she couldn't pay for the drugs, she tried to steal and... And me and my brother were assigned to take care of her. When we got to the apartment, she was a mess on the floor and eleven-year-old lynch was trying to make dinner...

"We couldn't kill her so we booked her into rehab and took Lynch under our wing... He loves his hair because he hopes that after all these years, if his mother sees him again, she'll be fine because she'll recognize the curly, wild hair..." Blake explains.

My heart breaks.

And when I look back at Lynch pale, blue head, I feel a giant chunk of myself break off.

I let go of Blake's hand and rush out of there.

Running, I keep my hand in front of my mouth, because I'm an ugly crying and I might fling some spit. When I reach a door at the end of the hallway, I swing it open and sit against the wall. My body is shaking with sobs until I'm all dried up and out of tears. Then the numbness comes.

Not long after, the door opens and Blake walks in. He slides down the wall and sits next to me.

"I know how you feel... You feel that darkness calling, don't you? That nice, numb feeling?" Blake asks.

"Stop pretending to care, Blake. I'm not stupid," I growl back.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

And because I'm done with this game. Done with wondering what's real and what's fake, I say: "I know about the stupid bet."