"Rose?" his voice is barely a whisper. Or maybe I just can't hear properly because everything is buzzing around me.
I don't have the strength to turn around, so I stay there – laying awkwardly on my side. The tight dress constricts me so much that I genuinely don't know how to pull myself up anyway.
Adrian appears, crouching down in front of me. "What happened?" he says, full of concern.
Sylv's distrust in him makes me snappy. Should I be so easy with Adrian?
"Nothing, Iris. I'm... fine," I croak out, trying to mask the weakness in my voice.
"I'm an intelligent man, Rose, but even a blind person could see you're not."
"Can you help me up? I can't move in this bloody f*cking dress."
Adrian flinches at my tone. I don't know why he doesn't like swearing.
He pulls me up, but my knees are wobbly and I can't hold myself up. I fall into him accidentally. I groan loudly and force myself up. I f*cking hate these heels.
"Rose, what happened?" he asks again. He reaches up – maybe to cup my face or wipe away my tears – but I swat his hands away.
"Take me home," I demand.
"But the dancing hasn't even started."
"Now."
He hesitates, eyebrows furrowed, scanning my face – obviously trying to figure it out. But I doubt he can read this. "Ok," he finally concedes.
.
.
.
When I come home early, I'm surprised to find Auntie and Uncle not home. They must've gone out for dinner or something.
Adrian offers to stay with me until they come back, but I tell him I'll need my energy for tomorrow. He nods and leaves, but I can tell he doesn't want to. He probably thinks I'm such a mess that I'll accidentally put myself in the microwave instead of leftovers.
I lay in bed and do the only thing that can distract me. Read Paige's diary. Maybe the anxiety over learning something new and terrible will make me forget about the anxiety over treating Sylv like a piece of dirt.
Don't hurt me this time.
F*cked it up in less than 24 hours. Surely that's a record breaker.
I stay up all night reading and the only thing I find out about 'C' or the 'Bodyguard' is that he has a "devilishly handsome" tattoo on his neck. A tattoo of a dragon or some bird or something, I've forgotten now.
So he probably doesn't go to school with us, because I would notice if a student had a tattoo. I would notice because they'd probably get expelled. Visible tattoos are not allowed at St. Agnes.
Then I cry myself to sleep, just another typical day in the life of Rose Chosen.
.
.
.
The next day, when I show up at Adrian's door and he's still in his silk pj's, I see shock on him for the first time. "You're... here?" he says with a yawn.
"We have plans, don't we?" I snap.
He nods. "Let me get ready."
We drive to one of three retirement homes in Cedar Creek to meet Miss Philipa Ardent. The Wittle children's nanny.
As we pull up and register into the retirement home as 'visitors', I pull Adrian over and say, "funny how you're here to write a book or something but I never see you writing." I scrutinise him.
He blushes. Blushes? "There's this thing called procrastination – I'm not sure if you've heard of it – but it's a disease almost exclusive to writers." He grins now, blush fading from his cheeks. "Furthermore, you don't spend every minute with me – even though I'd be in favour of it – so how would you know what I do when I'm not with you?"
"Maybe I set up camera's around your house to spy on you," I squint at him and laugh.
"You seem a lot better," he says, his grin fading into a small smile. "Last night, I was really worried about you-"
"Well you shouldn't have," I cut him off. "I'm fine. The meds just make me sick sometimes," I say. Pretending last night never happened is the only way I can move forward from it.
He purses his lips together and nods.
Then we walk in to meet Miss Ardent.
She's a pretty lady. Her hair is still dark and only features a couple stray grey strands. Her wrinkles, however, show her age.
"Miss Ardent," Adrian says, flipping on his charming voice. "We were wondering if we could have a chat with you."
They talk for a while as I zone in and out.
"It's been so long since I've had visitors," she says with a croaky grin. "I haven't seen Joseph in so long, always away on business."
"Joseph still visits?" Adrian says, an eyebrow raised with curiosity. He looks to me as if to say pay attention.
"Oh yes. Awful thing what happened to his sisters." She searches for something in her pocket.
I remember how the son, Joseph, was at boarding school during the time his sisters were murdered. Imagine coming home after being away so long to attend a funeral.
Finally, Miss Ardent pulls out a picture from her pocket. She shows it to us. Adrian looks at it briefly then passes it to me. At first, it looks just like a tiny boy in blue overalls. Then when I look closer at the face, something familiar teases at me. But I can't grasp it. Who is this boy?
We spend another hour entertaining her and asking her questions about who she thought killed the children. She says something about ninja's in the bushes and I withhold a hysterical laugh.
We go home and I feel like the day was useless, so I decide to go visit Archer in hospital.
.
.
.
Archer is sleeping when I arrive. Jones is sitting beside him, with bloodshot eyes.
I feel a weight in the room, as soon as I walk in. His family is huddled in the corner, chattering quietly.
Jones' eyes flick up to mine and I feel silently invited over. I stand before him and put a hand on his shoulder. "How are you doing, stud?"
"Not so great," his voice cracks. He starts crying and I bend down to hug him. He bawls into my shoulder. "He doesn't – he – he... he doesn't remember me."
My mouth goes dry. What?
Archer stirs beside us. "Oh hey, hottie I don't know," he says to Jones in a groggy, half awake voice. "Apparently this sexy f*cker is my boyfriend," he says, raising an eyebrow at me. "I would kiss your hand in greeting but I'm a little tied up here," Archer smiles and looks at his hand – which is attached to a tube of some sort.
"I'm Rose," I say, filling in the gaps for him. "We're actually great friends." A tear forms in my eye.
"You look like someone I'd be friends with," he says and nods. "This dude here is a little more questionable."
I laugh, "you're opposites but you are perfect for each other."
Despite remembering nothing, Archer's personality remains intact.
"I'm glad you haven't lost your spark," I say with a smile. I turn to Jones and give him a hug, then I whisper in his ear, "he'll remember. Don't stress. Either way, at least he still thinks you're a hottie."
Jones nods at me, then I leave them to... get to know eachother?
.
.
.
When I get home, Auntie starts off with small talk. How was the dance? Whose dress was best? How handsome did Sylv look? I cringe at that one. The answers were: boring, Avalon's and very. Relatively. My heart pinches at the thought of Sylv but I push it away.
"Speaking of, I forgot to get you to send this over yesterday." She hands me a plate of foods wrapped up. "I made them some dinner just to make things easier on them after the fire."
I cringe again.
"Off you go," she says with a smile.
I hesitate before taking the food and driving the moped to Sylv's. On the drive, I listen to Sam Smith's 'Lay Me Down'. God that's a good song. No matter how old its getting, it's ageless. Timeless.
It doesn't take enough time to get to Sylv's and I'm instantly feeling wound up. I walk myself to his doorway, taking a peak at the burnt shed a field away.
I knock and I pray that Sylv answers the door. If he just see's me – he'll know how hurt I am and how much we need to fix this. Maybe we can't ever be together – but I can't have him hating me.
The door creaks open.
Kath answers. She looks... older today. Maybe because she's at home and isn't wearing makeup. Her eyes look particularly dark – enough to make me question whether she just has big bags, or is bruised.
I don't think I've ever seen her without makeup.
She greets me with her signature warm smile and charm. Charisma that obviously doesn't run through Sylv's genes.
I explain to her how Auntie cooked some dinner for her to heat up. She seems thankful and nods, but seems sad still.
"Is Sylv here?" I ask softly.
The sad smile becomes more obvious now. "I'm so sorry Rose. He's not feeling well."
But I know it's a lie. "Did he tell you he doesn't want to speak to me?"
She purses her lips, "whatever happened, dearie, I'm sure you two will get through it. You've always had so much love for each other. I know Sylvester will come around."
I clear my throat. I bite my lip and nod. "Can you tell him I stopped by? Can you tell him... tell him I need to... Tell him... I don't know." I shake my head.
I walk to my moped and almost kick it down in a burst of anger. Then I hop on and drive home listening to Sam Smith.