Forgive me, please?

2:3

<><><>Adelaide's POV<><><>

As soon as those words left Gale's mouth, a wave of guilt washed over me in a hot rush. Tears burned my eyes, and I see Gale's bottom lip quivering as he grips Sawyer's shirt. Sawyer stands there, his hands falling limply to his side. Oh God, I think, and I feel like throwing up. Gale's eyes flickered over to mine, his evergreen gaze filled with hate. I turn my eyes to the floor, unable to hold his gaze.

Gale lets go of Sawyer's shirt, and curls his hands into fists. "She never apologized," he whispers, and it tugs at my heart.

Sawyer turns to me, a different expression written over his face. "Is this true?" He asks, lowering his voice. He furrows his brows in disbelief.

I shuffle a shoe against the floor and hesitate. "Yes." I answer at last, my voice hushed. "I didn't mean- I didn't think-"

"You never think!" Gale rages, slamming a fist against the table. The classroom is dead silent, and I can feel stares burn the back of my head. "Not once did you stop and think! Not once did you think while you and your fuckass friends were torturing my brother!" he rubs his now bloody fist and gives me a look of pure hatred. "I don't need your apology nor do I expect it. All I want is for you to be aware of what you've done." He says, lowering his voice.

Hot tears run down my face. My heart slams itself against my chest. I shiver, hugging my chest. "I'm so sorry." I whisper, my chin against my collarbone, "I didn't realize how bad it was. I'm so sorry."

Gale's eyes flicker with something I don't recognize. "I don't need your apology. It's worthless, anyways. Afterall, it can't bring my brother back from the dead." His jaw clenches and he stalks off, leaving me in shatters.

Sawyer shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. He looks at me, his lips pursed into a straight line. "I don't know what to say, Adelaide." he mutters, folding his arms, "I really don't."

Tears are falling heavily down my cheeks, and I hiccup. "I- I didn't mean t-to. I- I didn't realize my w-words really hurt h-him."

Sawyer holds my gaze for a moment before flashing his eyes away. "And I thought Gale was awful," he hisses, and it stings me. His words sting me.

He walks off, too, and the class is left in whispers, and I am left in misery.

<><><>

The last bell rings, and students file out into the hallway, hurriedly talking to each other or groaning about homework.  A few people stare at me, their hushed voices like daggers against my skin. I deserve it. I really do.

My heart hammers against my chest when I head to an empty classroom where the teacher assigned Gale and I to meet to decide where to do the project. I bite my lip, urging the tears to stay back.  I can't face him.

When I enter, Gale is sitting by an open window, his chin resting against the palm of his hand. He doesn't notice me, and I gaze at the sight.

He almost looks at peace. I have never seen him like this. Notice the word almost. He still has an air of anger, which he carries around like it's part of him. His dark brown hair flutters lightly in the breeze, and his bright green eyes are staring out of the window, deep in thought.

I suck up a breath, gathering myself, before clearing my throat cautiously. Gale whips around, his eyes landing on mine. A glare carves his face. He shifts in his seat, and takes the script out of his backpack.

I clutch my script in my hand and make my way over to him, before placing myself in a desk near to him. "So. . ." I start, and Gale looks at me, anger still dancing on his face. I flinch, but continue. "Where should we do the project?"

Gale's jaw clenches again, and he shrugs. "Doesn't matter. Not my house though." He says simply, almost seeming aloof, his gaze disinterested, blank.

You're a monster.

"Okay. Is the theatre room okay? There's a stage there." I continue, my voice lower than before, my anxiety waning.

He looks at me for a second before focusing his gaze on the cover of his script. He doesn't answer, instead flicks at the tender corner of paper, a dull noise filling the silence.

I swallow thickly, lacing my fingers together, nails planted into my palms hard enough to leave crescent shape divots. I continue, disheartently. "Though I reckon there might be a few people there already." I mutter, my voice more high pitched than regular. I flush, and clear my throat quickly, before averting my gaze away from Gale's prodding fingers.

Gale shrugs again, absentmindedly scratching at the plastic cover of his script, now, making a point to not look in my direction. "I just want this to be over with."

Me too,  I think, me too.

---

Will they start being civil? Or will Gale be too clouded by grief to see Adelaide's guilt?

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