The Unexplainable You.

Part Seven. Asher.

I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't mean it, and I sure don't want her to leave without knowing how much I've missed talking to another person my age.

I walk down the hall in the direction I saw her leave, keeping my eye out for her stupid yellow hoodie.

Why does this always happen to me? I manage to make a friend, only to push them away. I guess that I can't change that, right?

Genesis's words echo in the back of my mind.

"Maybe she needs a friend."

Maybe this is why I can't have friends. I scare them away.

A ray of sunshine grabs my eye, diving into one of the janitorial closets.

My brain flashes with everything I could say, and what the outcome would be for every word.

Before I know it, I'm outside of the closet, my hand hovering above the door, shaking.

I suck in a deep breath, closing the distance.

"Hey, Portland." I say, making sure to keep my voice quiet, as not to startle any of the many residence on this floor.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry." The words feel strange in my mouth, foreign in a way. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just haven't had a friend like you in so long, and I guess I forgot how to act."

Silence is the only answer.

"Please." I beg, my stomach twisting. "I don't want to be alone again."

I wait, hoping for the door to open and her to accept my apology, to want to be my friend, but she doesn't. The area in front of me is as still as it is silent.

"Okay then," I murmur, "I would say I'll see you, but I hope I don't, because I don't want you to ever have to come back here. So, uh, I hope you have a good life, bye Portland."

I walk away slowly, the little child inside of me hoping that she'll come after me, but no one calls my name, so I leave, holding back tears as I do so.

***

"So," Jennifer says as she hangs another bag of fluids. "You and that Portland girl, yeah?"

I can feel my face heat up. "Uh, I, I mean she, uh-"

"Oh, I see," She laughs, "She's got you head over heels, doesn't she?"

I bite my lip, grinning like mad. "She's pretty cool I guess."

"Ooh." She hums, "Well, just so you know, she talks about you a lot."

I can't help but smile at her words. "What was she saying?"

Jen shrugs, mystery swirling in her eyes. "It's a girls promise never to tell a man her secrets."

She draws an 'X' in the air over her heart, sealing her words.

I groan, "Fine." 

She smiles. "You two would be so cute together."

I don't have the heart to tell her about our fight, if you can even call it that. But the gist of it is, I was oversensitive to her pity, and I lost a friend because of it.

***

I lay in bed, machines beeping steadily all around me. I want to sleep, but I can't stop thinking of her. I want to go check on her, but I know for a fact that she's not here. She got discharged earlier, but I can't shake the feeling that something's wrong.

I sit up in my bed, dialing her number into my phone. Straight to voicemail.

"Dang it Portland." I mumble, scrolling through my phone for any other people who might know. 

As if on cue one of my nurses comes in to check my vitals.

"hey Harper, do you know how I could contact Portland Cormwell?"

She frowns, propping her hands on her waist. "I mean, you could go over to her room tomorrow, if you want."

"Why is she still here?" I ask, a hint of desperation seeping into my voice. She shouldn't be here, she was supposed to leave earlier today.

"She had another seizure. The janitor found her in one of the closets passed out on the ground. The doctors are going to keep her for a few more days."

"Oh," I breathe, my head throbbing. "Is she okay?"

Harper just shrugs.

"Okay," I breathe, leaning my head back on my pillow. "I'll go check on her tomorrow."

Harper nods. "She asked if she could see you when we brought her back earlier. But Dr. Taylor was afraid that seeing someone would get her too worked up."

I bite my lip, fear for her speeding up my heart in the slightest.

"Anyways," She says, "You should probably get some shut eye. You have your MRI tomorrow."

There it was again, a reminder that nothing good can last forever. Figures