Entry #516356, added on 06-20-07 @ 6:21 pm EDT
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| Chapter Eleven | Entry #516356 |
I'm no longer sure how to handle the situation I find myself in, and glancing sideways at Wren, I see that the solution has slipped his mind as well.
We're sitting in the waiting room where we were told to stay as they rushed my mother into the ER. My legs bounce up and down and I keep reading the wall directory in front of me over and over.
"It must have been in the food," I hear Wren mumble.
I want to tell him he's right, to reassure him, but I'm not sure I can open my mouth without releasing a sob.
Without warning, Wren reaches over to me and clutches my hand in his. "I know I said I was okay," I tell him, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "But I'm scared, Wren."
He opens his mouth to answer, but I advert my attention to the dotor who's just walked in. He looks at me and asks, "Miss James?"
I shoot out of my chair and meet him in the center of the room. "How's my mother?" I ask. At first it had seemed obvious that she would be alright, but knowing what the people that Eric worked for would do to me, I'm not so sure anymore.
"Your mother is going to be okay," the doctor tells me. "She had some unpleasant stuff in her system and we had to get it out, but she's going to be just fine. But we want to keep her here for a little while, okay?"
Anger bubbles in my stomach at his guarded information. I'm eighteen. Do I look like a baby who can't handle this? I shut my eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to avoid hostility at a time like this. "What was in her system?"
The doctor shakes his head. "You don't need to worry yourself over that," he says, his tone losing its tenderness.
I turn to look at Wren with what I hope is a pleading look in my eyes. But Wren doesn't look at me. He is looing sternly at the doctor. "What about the man that came in with her?" He asks the doctor.
The doctor looks at Wren, obviously questioning Wren's involvment. "Mr. Williams has a minor concussion. He'll be able to check himself out any minute now."
I feel sick to my stomach at this news. Will he come after me again? Wren is clearly thinking the same thing. He squeezes my shoulder and tries to steer me away, but the doctor calls out my name. When I face him once more, he stands closer to me and bends over slightly to get close to my ear. "Do I need to call for security?" he whispers to me.
At first, I know he must be talking about the danger that Eric poses, and I want to shout, "Yes!" even if they don't believe me. But when I look into his gray eyes and realize that his gaze is set firmly on Wren, I shake my head.
"No, sir. Why would you need to?"
The doctor merely looks at me with apparent frustration, then turns and stalks back into the ER.
"If you need a place to stay..." Wren begins as he drives me home from the hospital. I've decided to let him drive to allow my brain time to shut down.
"I'll be fine," I answer, staring out the front windshield at the yellow lines speeding by on the road. "It's just one night."
"That's what worries me," he mumbles. "A lot can happen in one night."
I turn to meet his eye, but immediately look away again when I see the concern that lingers there. "I'm not afraid," I lie, even though I'm more afraid now than I was before.
We pull up in front of my house and Wren and I get out. "Lock your doors," he tells me as he begins to walk in the direction of his house.
"Okay," I call to him.
"If you need anything..." He pauses, glancing down at the ground and stuffing his hands in his pockets. It surprises me how he's changed since our first meeting, when he was so confident.
I watch him turn and stride off, then face the house. It looks like something out of a horror film. The sky behind it is a deep purple against the clean white of my home. A bolt of lightening rips through the sky, illuminating the scene around me.
I take a deep breath and step into the overwhilming darkness of my house.
I barely sleep that night. I lie awake in bed wondering who will get hurt next, who will be the next one to turn against me, to go after my life. The only time my eyes fall closed is when the sound of the rain urges me to sleep and the tears make my eyelids heavy.
"Beth, what is wrong with you?" Morgan doesn't sound concerned, more like disgusted.
We're in third period and I've managed to fall asleep once again, as I have in the previous two. I lift my head off the desk and squint at the light of my Pre-Cal class. "Sorry. I didn't get enough sleep last night."
I had decided that morning not tell Morgan about the incident with Eric and my mother. At this point, it would've been a pretty bad move.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of fourth lunch and everyone in the class shuffled around quickly, gathering their things. I sleepwalked behind Morgan through the line and to our usual seats. I set my tray down and instictively glance to where Wren always sits. When I see him walking toward us, I heave a sigh of relief.
"Hey," he says in a soft tone when he reaches me.
I stand up and hug his neck. He stiffens, then relaxes and puts his arms around my akwardly. I squeeze him one more time and take a step back.
"How did you sleep?" he asks, avoiding my eyes.
"I didn't."
He sighs. "Beth, you should have stayed at my place, you would've felt much better."
I nod. "Probably, but I wanted to stay in my own house."
"I get that. How's your mom?"
"I called the hospital this morning. I'm going to pick her up this afternoon."
"That's good."
"Do we have a plan?" I whisper. My voice breaks, and I have to force back the tears.
Wren takes a step forward, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Don't cry. Look, I have an idea."
A little ray of excitement bursts in my chest. "What is it? Did you figure out how to make this go away?"
He shakes his head. "I can't say that, but..." He trails off. "I don't know, Beth. Look, I want you to stay inside. Don't turst anyone, okay?"
I give him a lazy smile and he gets the message. "Except me," he amends.
Wren gives my shoulders a squeeze before walking away. I squint my eyes at his back. Something about his tone of voice scares me, like he's trying to hide something from me. It's not until he's back at his corner table, and I'm sitting at mine, that I notice the look of pure shock on Morgan's face.
I don't say anything. I open my water and take a sip, avoiding her eyes and the conversation I know we are about to have.
Finally, she caves. "What the hell, Beth?"
"What?" I say, still not looking at her.
"What do you mean, what? What was that s***?"
I shake my head and refuse to answer, so she contunes. "You should've stayed at my place? Do we have a plan? Can you make this go away? What's going on?" she demands.
"Nothing," I answer.
"Bull," she snaps, and I finally meet her hard gaze. It's like looking straight into the fire. I knew she would be angry and shocked, but I wasn't expecting this.
"Why are you making such a big deal about this?"
"Bethany, you know what kind of person he is."
"Yeah! I do!" I'm starting to lose my patience. "But obviously you don't!"
"Look," Morgan says, her voice more normal and her eyes dropping to her tray. "Hang out with who you want, but I won't."
"Nobody said you had to hang out with him." I say, suppressing a shout. I'm disgusted. I don't even want to look at her anymore.
"I'm not sure," she says with effort. "I can be friends with someone who hangs out with people like him."
"Then don't." My voice has dropped an octave in my anger, and I shoot out of my chair. "I could never be friends with someone who couldn't accept me and the people I choose to spend time with." I take my tray and begin to walk off, but turn around before I've gone too far. "And just so you know," I say to the back of her head, ignoring the looks I'm recieving from the surrounding tables. "Wren is one of the most amazing people I've ever met. This is your loss, not mine."
Rain splatters the sky lights as I stride to Wren's table and drop down in a chair. I prop my elbow on the table and put my hand in front of my face to shield it.
Now I see why Wren likes this table so much. In the shadow, provided by a lack of sun and overhead light, no one can see the tears streaming down my face. Except Wren, who's sitting so close that I can feel the heat of his arm as he drapes it across my chairback.
"I'm sorry," he whispers to me.
"It's not your fault," I sniffle. |
© Copyright 2007 GryffindorGurl (UN: magicfreak11 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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