❁ ❁ ❁
Most people wouldn't remember anything while in a hospital bed with needles in their arms and a mask over their face.
But I remembered it vividly.
I remembered the coldness at first as I laid there. Nurses had buzzed around me, assessing everything wrong with my body. I could hear their worried tones, and I could hear the second hand of the clock. It seemed to tick twice as slow. I listened to each tick, hoping they'd drift me off to sleep.
I remembered the pains shooting through my body that night. The cuts on my legs felt like pins constantly scraping across my skin. The bruises on my face felt like an everlasting weight being pressed onto me. The medicines in my stomach felt like they'd never work.
And most importantly, I remember him. I knew when he entered the room, because it got a little warmer. Time sped up. The ringing in my ears stopped. He brought me a sense of protection and closure, but I couldn't bear to open my eyes and look at him. But I gladly let him touch me. His hand held mine, and the same electric sparks from the first time he kissed me soared through my skin, waking me up from my daydream, screaming at me what the hell have you been doing?
I remember that in that moment, I realized I still love Isaac Richards.
❁ ❁ ❁
Walking into school a week later was pure torture. Rumors spread like wildfire, and my school was in flames.
I heard one that I got in a street brawl. That was just dumb.
Another one was that I did I went crazy and did it to myself. That was bad.
A few people said that Isaac did it to me. That was the worst.
I told the police that it happened in Chicago. I was walking to the bus stop and ran into a group of boys. It wasn't very believable, but it was the only thing I could come up with to prevent myself from being sent to a foster home for a year.
And now, walking through the metal doors of the high school building, I can feel everyone watching me.
I'm still bruised. My stitches are being removed next week, but I am covering them with my clothes. And my black eye has gone away. But everyone knows. I can't decide if the look on their faces in of pity, or disgust.
I find my way to my locker, opening it and filling my bag with my books, intently listening to the shuffle of footsteps of people walking down the halls. The usual chatter resounds through it, and I feel in the same position I was at the beginning of the year.
I hear someone clear their throat, causing me to look up. A pair of dark, brooding eyes meet mine, I instantly take a step away.
"Looks like little princess got a few punches thrown at her, eh?" Connor sneers.
I shut my locker. "Don't test me, Connor. I can easily tell the entire school it was actually you that night."
He smirks. "No one would believe you. Besides, I know the full story. People are more likely to believe me."
"You know nothing." I practically laugh.
He grabs my wrist. Pinches one of the bruises on it. I bite my tongue, squinting my eyes, trying to hold back a yelp of pain. "It's funny that you think that, sweetheart."
I twist my arm, prying myself from his grasp. "What's more funny is you believing you still have some sort of power over me. I don't give a shit about you or what you do to me anymore. So you can gladly take your ego and shove it up your ass." I spit.
I turn to walk away but he pushes me against the lockers, pinning me down to where I can't move. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead I hear a voice shout from down the hall. "Hey!"
We both turn our heads, and next thing I know, I see a fist colliding with Connor's face. He stumbles backwards and I jump away from him.
"Whoops. I missed. I meant to go for your throat. Hope your face isn't too messed up, pretty boy," Braeden says to Connor curtly, crossing her arms over her chest. She turns to me. "Come with me."
She hurriedly walks down the hall and turns a corner, walking to a small cavern in the hallway leading to the janitor's closet.
"We need to talk." She tells me. It's the first time I've spoken to her since spring break.
"I agree. " Is all I say.
She takes a deep breath. "Look, I could spend hours apologizing to you. I could stand here and explain anything and everything to you, but it's not my place to tell you. So here; I'm really sorry Grace. Please accept my apology so we can move on?"
I bite my lip. How is holding a grudge going to benefit either of us. "Sure."
"Okay, good. Listen, you need to talk to Isaac." She says.
"I know."
"Like as soon as possible."
"I know."
"I don't think you understand Grace, you have to talk to him. Today. Not tomorrow. Not after you've had time to think about it. Today."
"Why are you lecturing me?" I ask.
"Because someone has to do it. You both can't keep living like this. You can't keep acting like strangers. You can't just leave each other alone for the rest of the year, not talk over the summer and then pack up for college in the fall and go on into adulthood. You guys were made for each other. You both know that. You both have had your time to be angry and sad and confused. So now, it's time to pick up your pretty little asses and make up, or else you're going to spend the rest of your life wondering 'what if?'" She explains.
I run a hand through my hair. Yes, she is correct. She is extremely correct, to be exact. "Okay. Okay, then where do you suppose I talk to him? School isn't really the best place to do so."
She smiles. "Lucky for you, I've already put together the details," She reaches into her backpack and pulls out a small blue note, handing it to me. It reads, Buddy's Chicago Style Pizza. Tonight at 6:30. Of course she chose Buddy's. "All you have to do is sign your name."
I grab a pen from my pencil case and quickly write down my signature. "Why are you doing this?"
She shrugs. "Isaac and I are best friends. He has me. He has Luke. He has a wonderful mother and a loving sister. But you're the only thing that can make him truly happy," She laughs. "Of course, I don't know why. But then again, I've never been in love."
I smile. "Well, thank you. For the note, and for caring, and for decking Connor."
Chuckling, she replies. "Of course. And he deserved it. Now, go. Class is starting soon."
I nod and scurry out of the corridor, quickly finding my way to Isaac's locker. I fold the note and slip it inside just like middle schoolers do, and rush back to our first period class just as the bell rings.
I see Isaac before I sit down, his blue eyes against my green. And I can only hope that they are the same blue eyes I will see later tonight.
❁ ❁ ❁
I sit at a table in the restaurant, sipping a glass of water as I watch other families and couples enjoy each other's company around me. It's fifteen after from when Isaac was supposed to arrive.
I wore my green sweater today. He always said how pretty I looked in it.
I watch outside as rain streams down the glass windows, hoping to the the silhouette of him walking in. Another minute passes by. He doesn't.
"Can I get you started with an appetizer?" A waitress asks. I believe her name is Shelley, she complimented me after a singing shift once.
I shake my head. "No thank you, I'm still waiting for someone." He'll be here, I tell myself. He will.
Another minute. I listen to the classical piano music playing from the speakers in the ceiling. I need to prepare another song for here one night, it's been a while.
Another minute. Now I'm getting worried. I consider staying another ten, twenty minutes, ready to discuss everything in a mature, adult manner. But then I look at my table. One glass of water left untouched. One menu still folded on the table cloth. I realize how pitiful I look.
After all, why would he come? All I've done is push him away. This is my fault.
I place my napkin back on the table and stand up, collecting my purse and pushing my chair in. I walk out of the restaurant, apologizing to the hostess and telling her she can offer the table to another family. I tug my coat on and leave the building, rain soaking me, a sorrow feeling in my heart.
"Grace," I hear a voice say. God, why can't I get his voice out of my head?
"Grace!" This time my name is said louder, and I know it's not in my head. I turn on my heel and see Isaac.
He's standing there, drenched in water, breathing heavily as he runs to catch up with me. He plants himself about ten feet away.
"I didn't think you were going to come." Is what I decide to say.
"My car wouldn't start," He informs me. "I ran here as fast as I could."
I wipe the rain off of my face, only for more water to pour on me immediately after. "You were at the hospital."
"I was." He replies.
"And you were there when I had a bad dream." I add.
"Of course." He nods.
"I never got to say thank you." I say.
"And I never got to say sorry," He counters. He has to shout over the rain, and I take a step closer to be able to hear him clearer. "I hurt you, Grace. I didn't mean to, but I did. I promised you I wouldn't. I'm sorry, Grace Baker."
"Isaac–"
"No, you deserve an explanation for everything that happened," He tells me. "Grace, at first I had no idea how Cassidy got that information. I did a little digging, and I found out that she had been in contact with Claire and Connor. She's crazy, Grace. She's always been. And as for Braeden, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. And that I didn't tell you about everything that happened in my life back in Florida."
"But why didn't you tell me?" I ask.
"I was scared, Grace. I was terrified that you would judge me, think differently of me. I know that's not who you are, it's the opposite, but I couldn't help being afraid. The last thing I wanted was for you to see me as someone I am not." He explains.
"I could never." I answer.
"I know that. But then I screwed it up." He sounds so sad, it breaks my heart.
"It wasn't just you, Isaac. I was an ass. I didn't give you a chance. I locked you out because I was afraid myself, and I shouldn't have done that." I admit.
He pauses, regaining his thoughts. And then he speaks. "I love you, Grace Baker. I love you so freaking much and it's okay if you don't love me back anymore. But I have to say that. I can't go on in life without telling you that I am in love with you and that I never stopped. I don't want to stop,"
It's too much. I start walking forward towards him.
"Grace–" He starts, but I cut him off by pressing my lips to his.
I pull away after a few seconds, looking for his reaction. His eyes widen, his hands wrap around my waist.
And he smiles.
And kisses me back.
I loop my arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly as if he'll disappear if I let go. Our lips move passionately with one another, every good feeling a person could experience is coursing through my veins. Our chests are pressed against one another, rain drops trickling down our faces.
Every bit of sadness and pain is washed away. Isaac is warm and familiar, solid and safe. It makes me want to bury my head in the crook of his neck and never let go. Basorexia completely envelopes me as we take a second to breath, only to reconnect our lips once more. I kiss him like his lips are air and I'm dying to breathe.
In one kiss, he knows everything I couldn't find the words to say.
We slowly pull apart, keeping our faces close together. My fingers run themselves through his hair, and I can't tell if I'm crying or if it's just the rain running down my cheeks.
"I love you more." I whisper.
❁ ❁ ❁
Hello guys! Merry late Christmas!!! Hope you all had a wonderful holiday, the new year is coming soon! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter! I loved writing it <3 Xoxo
-Acreativeblur