Social Suicide

T W E N T Y - O N E : Healing Widows

SOCIAL SOLITUDE: ARISTELLE
Friday, November 23 2018
"I can walk. I'm not an invalid."
"Of course you're not. Doesn't mean we're not going to help you." Molly and Spencer each held one of my elbows as they led me to my bedroom. He sat me down and she took off my shoes.
"This is gonna get old fast."
They hadn't reacted to my sarcastic remarks or overall shitty attitude since I woke up from the coma. Molly's been used to it for years, but I was surprised Spencer already seemed to be.
"Get out," she told him. "I'm gonna help her change out of this." She pinched the oversized shirt the hospital gave me.
"Uh, shouldn't that be my job? As her—"
"Both of you get out," I clipped. "I'm a big girl, I can dress myself." I stood again, but almost immediately tumbled over. They heard my sharp intake of breath and caught me just in time. My hand clutched my chest. My head spun and my vision started to show black spots. For fuck's sake. Now they're never gonna leave me alone.
"Jesus," Spencer exclaimed. "You were saying?"
I huffed angrily. "I'll just sleep in these." I was also wearing old jeans, but at least they were baggy.
"No, you won't." Spence dug in my tall lingerie dresser for sweatpants and pulled out my favorite pair. How did he know I kept them in there? "Go make sure Luci isn't burning down your kitchen," he barked at Molly. "He's a shit cook."
I almost laughed. So is she.
Spencer stood in front of me with my pants slung over his arm, gesturing for me to stand.
Molly glanced at me to make sure I was okay with it. I nodded once. It's not like I was getting naked, so I didn't care. But I was gonna give him a hard time anyway. "Am I really gonna let you undress me?"
"Might as well get it over with." He smirked. "The first time's usually a little awkward."
I rolled my eyes but unbuttoned my jeans anyway. When I got up, I held onto one of his shoulders as he shimmied them down my legs. I ignored the way the pit of my stomach curled... the way the tips of his fingers left a trail of fire on my skin... the way his breath gave me goosebumps.
He was definitely doing this on purpose. Fucker.
"Avery?"
"Hm?"
"Step."
I shook my head of the thoughts and stepped into the pant legs. He pulled them up as he stood straight again. "Could you grab a shirt from a hanger? I don't care which." The sweatpants were white, so anything would go.
"Yeah, sure."
I sat down on the bed and rubbed my socks back and forth against the soft gray carpet so I could warm my feet. Spencer tossed me a maroon, ribbed-lace tee with black crosses all over it.
"Thanks."
"My pleasure."
He kneeled in front of me and held my hands. We were quiet for a minute or two.
"I didn't know you were so affectionate," I whispered. It's odd. He doesn't seem like the type. I thought he was more like me. "Or is it just because I almost died?"
"Mm. Yes and no. I've never explored this part of myself, I guess. Never had a girlfriend and never wanted one."
I stiffened. Did I miss something? Girlfriend? Did he just call me his girlfriend? Or is he just rambling? He didn't mean it, I told myself.
He continued like he didn't notice my brief reaction. "You being in the hospital really freaked me out. Now I'm just going along with what I'm feeling in the moment. No holding back." Spencer looked away. "Are you saying I should... hold back? I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"
"No, not at all," I said, meaning it. I wasn't very particular about that kind of thing. "I was just wondering where your mind was about me."
"Where is yours?" he stammered softly.
Was I ready to give him an answer?
A light knock delayed my response. "Dinner's ready. We did our best." Molls grinned halfheartedly and left again.
"Maybe we should get takeout," I chuckled.
"That's a good idea." He helped me stand.
I pulled on his arm. "I'm not ready for a label," I admitted. "I'm fine with the pace we're moving, but... no labels yet. Is that okay?"
"Of course." He smiled, almost in... relief? I didn't understand it. I'm always confused now. I'm getting sick of it.
We ended up ordering Chinese food. Molly and Vaughn's partially burnt spaghetti gave Spencer and me a good laugh.
"Oh, god... Do my professors know what happened?" I asked Molly.
"Yeah, your doctors gave me papers to pass on to them. You were way ahead anyways; you'll fall back in easily. How long did they say you have to stay home?"
"Just a few days. I rested a lot there before I was discharged."
The guys were bickering back and forth about football and baseball while we talked. I drowned it out. It would be awhile before I could play again. The thought made me kind of sad.
I poured some more wonton soup into my bowl. "What ever happened to Miles?"
Molly scoffed. "Ugh. I'm still so pissed at him. I didn't hear from him until the next morning! So on top of you getting hurt, I was worried about him all night. He called me pretty early and I told him what happened." She tossed her chopsticks in anger. "I didn't wanna look at his stupid face anymore, so I told him to go home. If you want to, you can call him to tell him you're okay. I'm not gonna."
"Take it easy. That's what brothers are for. They're all here to annoy us beyond reason."
"Oh, crap." Her expression was suddenly full of guilt. She cupped her mouth with wide eyes. "Crap, crap, crap! Ells, I'm so sorry... I forgot to call Mer and Jasper."
I let out a breath. "You almost gave me a heart attack. Relax, I'm glad you didn't. They overreact when anything ever happens to me."
"I mean, with good reason," she mumbled.
"I should call them, though. But I don't know how to explain why I missed their birthday without mentioning what happened." That was the one rule we made after our mom died: call when it mattered.
Lying wasn't something I did—omission didn't count in my eyes. What could I say that would exonerate me for November 11th without mentioning that I was all but dead to the world?
"Who?" Lucian interrupted.
"My brother and sister. They're almost seven years older than me. If they knew I was in my third damn coma, they'd probably insist on moving here and never leave my side." I shuddered.
"Third? What the hell happened?"
"Um," I hesitated. I wasn't that close to Vaughn. "It's a long story," I decided, then leaned over so I could whisper to Molly, "If you trust him, you can tell him the short version for now."
She nodded.
"Anyway... How was the rest of the party?"
"You didn't miss much. After the ambulance took you away, everyone got really freaked out," Spencer disclosed.
I groaned. "I'm sorry I ruined your par—"
"Hey," he cut me off. "None of that. I'm the one who fought with Castro. It's on me."
"But he threw the first punch," Lucian argued.
"He was trying to get a rise out of me and I let him. It's my fault."
"How?" I asked.
"How, what?"
"What was he saying that pissed you off so much?"
He exchanged a look with both of them.
"Stop that," I snapped.
"What?" they echoed in unison.
"You keep doing that. Looking at each other like you have some kind of inside joke. I don't like being kept in the dark. Spit it out."
"We're sorry." Spencer placed his hand over mine on the table. "He was saying things about you."
"Yeah, I figured. But what things? That was my question."
He lowered his head, unwilling.
"Things about your history," Molly told me in a seething tone. "While you were with him. He was acting like he knew a single thing about you."
Lucian scooted his chair closer to hers. "In simple terms, he was being crazy."
"He's good at that." I stood and they mimicked me. Spencer held his hands out to steady me. "I need to take a shower. Thanks for going out to get dinner."
Mol smiled at me. "Of course. I'll be in to help you after I clean this up."
I nodded.
"Or I could help you," Spence offered.
I shook my head, holding the back of my chair for some support. "I'm not your responsibility, Holden."
He paused for a moment; I never called him that. "It doesn't make you an invalid or a victim to accept help from those who care about you," he advised abruptly.
I met his eyes for a fleeting moment. "Well, if you're gonna be all sensitive about it."
He rolled his eyes and towed me to my bedroom, shutting the door behind us. It felt good to stretch my legs.
Even though I've been through this type of recovery twice before, it still gave me whiplash. It was kind of like stepping into a time machine and being propelled to the future. The mother of all jet lag.
The first time was the worst, of course. This was a close second. When I almost drowned, it was more of a medically-induced coma. They put me under so my brain and lungs could heal.
Spencer eyed my stiff movements for a few seconds. "Come here." He motioned to my bed.
"For what?"
"Lay down on your stomach."
"Again, for what?" I stood in front of him and he reached for the hem of my shirt.
"Do you trust me?"
I met his eyes, searching for an answer within them. For better or for worse... "Yes," I attested finally.
He started to lift the fabric over my head, looking only into my eyes the entire time.
Just when I was starting to convince myself he couldn't possibly be doing what I thought he was doing, he moves his hands to the strings in front of my sweatpants.
He kneeled in front of me and pulled them down slowly, keeping me steady with one hand at all times.
Realizing I was now bare aside from my panties, I tried not to hyperventilate. I had to remind myself that he's seen me naked before, though only briefly.
He placed my clothes on my dresser before returning to me. "Lay down," he repeated.
Taking a deep breath, I did what I was told. He followed right after, straddling the back of my thighs. I so badly wanted to ask where he was going with this, but I just closed my eyes and tried my best to be patient.
Before he did anything else, he reached up to move my hair out of my face and off my back, his fingers lingering on my cheek.
I heard the click of a bottle opening then felt the cold drizzle of something being poured onto my back. Almost immediately, the smell filled the room and I understood what it was and what he was planning to do. He must've retrieved my fractionated oil from atop my dresser.
Spencer started to rub circles along my shoulders, my arms, and my palms, keeping a hard and slow pressure. I groaned softly.
Being naked suddenly didn't bother me. If his objection was to raise my expectations, he's doing a genius job.
With every stroke he made, I felt more relaxed. My muscles felt less tense. My lungs felt less constricted and I could breathe easier, especially with that scent—coconut and peppermint.
He slid further down to reach my lower back.
In hindsight, I probably should've seen this coming. Whether or not he intended to get this reaction out of me, my body knows what it wants.
But I haven't had sex in four years, so that's probably my fault.
Spencer moved his hands down to my hips and thighs, and I just couldn't help the moans that followed.
He stopped at once. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" he whispered. I heard a faint hint of jest in his tone.
"Absolutely not," I gushed.
He chuckled. He resumed his movements with added pressure, egging me on now.
To my complete bliss, he leaned down to place a kiss on the back of my neck. Then on my shoulder. And another. And another. He made a trail all the way down my back.
My heart was dangerously close to beating out of my chest entirely. I buried my face into my comforter and gave him another stifled moan, which he returned.
Still kissing my lower back, he suddenly gripped both sides of my panties with his fists. It was a tad painful, but I arched my back, giving him silent permission.
When he instead released the fabric, I turned over onto my back and pulled his face to mine by his neck. He snaked his arms around my waist and kissed me back with enthusiasm. I was very much aware of my bare chest pressed against him, the layer of his shirt still between us.
Somewhere along the way, he lost momentum and I reluctantly pulled away. "What's wrong?"
"You need to heal first," he said.
I widened my eyes. "What?" He cannot be serious.
"Your body needs to recover, Avery. Until then, I won't touch you."
"You're touching me right now," I pointed out.
He narrowed his eyes into slits seductively, his voice low. "No. I'm not. When I finally do touch you—" He reached back to push down a leg I hiked up onto his waist. "—you won't be able to move like this."
My breath hitched. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"I guess you'll have to wait and see." He kissed the edge of my chin and stood from the bed. He stepped inside my closet to get my robe, then led me to the bathroom.
I guess he was right, in a way. If we were having sex right now, I wouldn't be able to fully enjoy it. I had a pretty high pain tolerance, but our first time shouldn't be remembered that way.
I dryly laughed aloud when I remembered how this happened. I've now had two comas because of Matt.
"What's so funny?" Spencer asked me.
"Oh, my luck. Or lack thereof. Of course Matthew would find just the right spot to punch me so I'd get knocked on my ass for two whole weeks." I was leaning against the counter while he started the water. His silence compelled me to look at him. "What is it?"
"I wanted to kill him. I still do."
"I know. So do I. Molly said he's in jail, right? That's something, I guess." I shrugged.
"He was in jail."
Was?
"His mother's a lawyer. His stepfather bailed him out almost a week ago."
"Oh. Perfect."
"I met him once. He's creepy. I don't know how long he's been married to his mom, but they definitely have that in common."
That didn't surprise me. "Did the Chancellor not get involved? It happened on campus."
"He wanted to expel Matt. But when you throw money at a problem, it tends to go away in this country. That's what I heard anyway, from Lucas Taylor."
I didn't know who that was and I didn't care to ask. "Wow." My tone was clipped with sarcasm. "We go to a great school, don't we?"
"Hey, is this hot enough?" Spence called out.
I didn't wanna move until I had to. "If it's perfect for you, make it hotter. When you burn your skin, it's good enough for me."
"Okay, Satan," he mumbled to himself. He sat on the toilet lid, sighing dramatically. "So what exactly do I help you with in here?"
"You don't. I just didn't want you throwing a tantrum if I told you no." He lifted his head to glare at me. "Just sit there in case I fall. Or you can watch something on tv in my room. I'll leave the doors open so you can hear me."
"Yeah, I'll do that." He kissed my temple. "Do not fall."
My eyes went wide with indignation. "I'll try."
My shower took longer than usual since I had to be careful. But since I hadn't been able to really bathe in almost a month, I wasn't complaining. I was dreading having to get out so I could brush away all the knots in my hair. I stepped out when the first wave of cold water rained over me.
Spencer was fast asleep when I got back to the room. One leg was hanging off my bed and both arms were folded together on his chest. I stared at him for a little while before snapping out of my reverie.
Well, I'm glad I didn't fall. Spencer would've been useless.
The show Friends played quietly as background noise as I dried and brushed my dense hair.
When it was loading to a new episode, I heard Molly and Lucian's muffled voices coming from the kitchen. I muted my flat screen when I caught my name.
"I'm surprised you haven't implanted a tracking device on her. If that happened to my best friend..."
"I know. But Aristelle is pretty strong and independent if you hadn't noticed."
I smiled. I guess she told him already.
"Of course I noticed. Now I think she's even more so after learning all this. It makes sense now," he mumbled. I strained to listen harder so I could understand.
"What does?"
"This is why she's so... closed off, right?"
"Wouldn't you be, after seeing something like that happen to your mother?"
"I would've fallen apart," he acquiesced quietly.
"She did. Elle used to be a completely different person." She sighed, almost happily. "But lately, I've been seeing these moments. Moments where she's the person I grew up with again. I owe that to Holden."
"Yeah, he's a pretty stand up guy. I'm happy for them."
They were quiet for a minute after that.
"Are you staying or going home?"
"If I'm welcome, I'd love to stay."
I unmuted the television. My hair was pretty decent by now. I placed the brush on the dresser and hung up my towel behind the door. After getting dressed, I laid next to Spencer and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, waiting for sleep to come.