I hated it.I hated it more than words could possibly describe.
I hated the feeling I got as Dr. Gerandy shoved a thermometer under my tongue with the supervision of Father's piercing gaze.
I hated the number of people who stood in my living room, staring at me with an odd sense of pity.
I hated the number of questions I had that I couldn't ask without raising a few eyebrows.
All the more, I hated everything about this current predicament. Here I sat, with a room of people who supposedly cared about me— were there for me. Yet, somehow, I never felt more alone.
Ashton sat beside me, rubbing circles on my back as Dr. Gerandy spoke solemnly to my father, throwing around terms like hypothermia and post-traumatic stress. Even as I sat, layers of fleece on my body and my father's coat, I was still shivering.
Chief Swan slowly began ushering everyone out of my living room, urging them to give me space. Dr. Gerandy and Father remained talking, discussing remedies and the various do's and don't's. As Dr. Gerandy was getting ready to leave, he gave my father a week-long sick leave.
"B-but... my finals," I complained.
My voice sounded weak, so weak that I could hardly recognise it. My words slurred so much into each other that I sounded like a pisshead garbling. Despite my own worries of the sound of my voice, others seemed to have understood me perfectly fine.
"Don't worry about that, Kai," Father sternly said. "I'll speak to Headmaster Greene and all will be well."
"Just take it easy, Kai," Dr. Gerandy advised. I nodded.
I heard the doorbell ring and Ashton gently let go of me, walking over to the door to open it. I could see Ricardo, my father's assistant, manager and right-hand man, holding a blanket. Dr. Gerandy gave his greetings to my father and walked out, allowing Ricardo to walk in.
"Merino wool like you requested, sir," Ricardo said.
Shaking, I tried to take off my father's coat to hand it back to him, intending to replace it with the comforter in my room. My father shoved the coat back into my hands. My father shook the blanket to unfold it and wrapped it around me.
As my father stood near me, I could see his blond hair sprayed with far more grey strands than I remembered it to have. His skin was wrinkled and the creases on his forehead were even more profound than the last time I had seen them.
"I need a cigarette," Father sighed, stepping outside. Ricardo followed him out, opening the door for him. I felt a twinge of guilt in my stomach for triggering my dad's former habit.
Without my father's supervision, I could get my first look at Ashton's face. As my eyes trailed upward to their hair, I noticed something starkly different.
"W-when did you go t-to brown?" I asked, my teeth chattering.
Ashton chuckled and ran their hands through their hair. "While you were gone," they sheepishly admitted.
"What do you mean 'while I was gone'?" I grumbled.
"While you were off to your trip," Ashton shrugged.
"What trip?" I asked, growing increasingly impatient.
"If Dr. Gerandy hadn't said memory loss and confusion were side effects of hypothermia, I would've been extremely concerned for you," Ashton joked. "Your parents took you on a trip a few weeks after your car accident."
"... carry on."
"Well, basically, you weren't doing well at all after your car accident. You hardly acted like yourself. All you did was play the same song on the piano for weeks even though you haven't touched piano keys since you were nine. You went into hysterics every time you saw a red apple and you hardly had the patience for anyone or anything."
"You started growing frustrated with London, so your parents took you to Munich during Christmas holiday— somewhere you usually enjoyed. You hated it there too. And then you started talking about the west coast of America very vividly. Your dad was growing desperate so he booked plane tickets the second he could."
"Your mum reckoned it would be best to rent an RV so you'd spend the most time you possibly could together. With the green light from your doctors, you went off on your trip and started in California. As far as I know, you hardly had any positive reaction to the state. Nothing about it fascinated you— not L.A or San Diego or any of the beaches."
"Your parents moved on to Washington. You had a worse reaction to Washington than you did to Cali or London. Your parents just assumed it was because of the harsh weather, they knew you hated the rain even more than you hated the scorching hot sun."
"Then, you came to this town and something about it put a smile on your face for the first time in months. I'm not sure what you see in it since it rains here more than it does in London but it made you the happiest you've ever been. The RV broke down, so while your dad was sorting things out at a telephone booth, you just watched everything in awe."
"Then what?" I urged.
"What do you think happened?" Ashton laughed. "Your parents transferred you to Forks High and moved you into this house. Your dad kept calling the principal of your school to check up on you and apparently all has been well. He just wanted to see if things were as good as Greene claims."
I buried my face into my hands as I felt my eyes prickle. I felt hot tears stream down my face as I sobbed.
"I'm sorry, I caused so much trouble. I'm sorry," I kept repeating. Nothing could beat the sense of guilt out of me. The entirety of others' lives has been restructured and uprooted just so I can have the slightest bit of solace in Forks.
Ashton pulled me into their chest. "Shh, it's okay. You're going to be okay. It's alright," they crooned.
When I finally calmed enough to string a sentence together, my eyes were a bright red. I wasn't sure if I was crying because of Edward or because of Ashton and my parents, but I just felt so awful. My father finally came back in, pressing a button on his cell phone to turn it off.
"I've made arrangements at the Forks Motel for the remainder of the week, please give me a call if you need anything, Kai," my father said.
"I've made you tea and Ricardo will remain in Forks for another two weeks to continue checking up on you," Father continued.
"I'm-m really f-fine," I tried to say. I was sure my stuttering discredited any credibility my words would've had.
"Yeah and I'm a woman," Ricardo joked.
As everyone slowly filed out of my house, urging me to call them if I needed help, I realised another thing I hated more than anything I've ever been.
I hated how alone I felt.
And as I fell into my bed, shivering and trembling, I felt the bitter cold of my Edward-less existence. I had deluded myself into forgetting the inevitable. I should've known. I should've known because it was never us. I was never Edward and Kai. It was Bella and Edward Cullen. They're meant to be, not us; because there was never an us. It was always them.
And here I lay, crying, because I am the outlier.
YOU ARE READING
The Outlier II
Vampire"𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞."