Twice The Trouble

Chapter 70: Pain

"What else?"

"Don't forget to kiss her forehead every time you say goodbye."

He grilled me with more questions while we devoured our slices of chocolate cake.

"And when you notice she's keeping her arms by her sides, it means she wants you to hold her hand. And I mean really hold it, fingers entwined and everything. She loves it when a guy has soft hands. Stacy says it's icky when he has sweaty palms."

"Hmm," said Lucas. "Let me try that."

Then he took my hand--and held it like I said he should.

Lucas was holding my hand, right there, unaware of my inner turmoil, but nothing else seemed to matter except for his soft hand on mine, his fingers laced around mine.

And then he released my hand.

My brown eyes met his chocolate eyes and I prayed that he couldn't see the damage he'd done.

Or what I had done to myself.

"It's not entirely my fault you saw something that wasn't there."

Dale's words from four months ago brushed my mind like a feather over a vase.

One more time.

"It's not entirely my fault you saw something that wasn't there."

"Sophia." Lucas's voice sliced through my balloon of bad memories.

A fragile smile crept onto my lips. I looked at him. "Yup?"

He was holding out a small white box with a red bow on top. I picked it up from his palm.

"I'll make sure my sister gets this," I told him.

"It's not for her. It's for you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Why would you give me a gift?"

He said in response: "You know, as a thank you." He smiled at me. "We've been friends for half a year and you've been helping me a lot, so I wanted to get you something as my thanks."

I tore off the wrapping paper and flipped open the lid. Inside was a small white circle.

"A key-chain," Lucas clarified when my forehead crumpled. "Look closer."

Of course, naive dolt that I was, I reached for the black string connected to the sphere.

It was an insanely adorable original glazed key-chain with two black eyes and a pink smile.

"Thank you."

"I already contacted Stacy a while ago and told her you were going to stay the night here."

"What??"

Lucas flashed me a timid smile. "Do you think you can take a shower with your cut?"

I wiggled my right leg a little and winced. "No."

The black-haired teenager rose from the sofa then he pointed a finger at two doors behind him.

"I'll just pick out some dry clothes for you."

Three minutes and one wobbly journey to my assigned guest room later, I succeeded in discarding my green top and black shorts--I changed into a baby blue long-sleeved polo. The fabric was thick and the hem flowed to my knees so I didn't need to wear pajama bottoms.

*Knock Knock*

"Sophia? Do the clothes fit you?" called Lucas from the other side of the door.

"I'm good," I hollered while flapping the long blue sleeves like wings. I love floppy shirts.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

The wooden door creaked open to reveal a stunned Lucas. I tilted my head to one side.

"Anything wrong?" I asked him.

"You.. didn't wear the pajamas?"

I shook my head, frowning. "The shirt was big enough."

"Okay." He seemed to murmur some gibberish. "Goodnight, Sophia."

I went to the door, and before I locked it, I told Lucas: "Goodnight."

Seconds turned into minutes as I merely stared at the wooden panel.

When I was certain that Lucas was no longer within earshot, I leaned my forehead on the door and pressed my palms on the center before I shut my eyes and dissolved into heaving sobs, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably.