𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝...

Chapter 15

A MONTH BEFORE, OCTOBER 30

He shut his eyes tightly as a foot kicked his stomach, the air in his lungs exploding out of his mouth as a cough. He hacked for a breath as he listened to their sickening laughter which grew further and further away as he lay in the dirt behind the school. 

He whimpered, curling up into a ball as he rested his forehead on his knees. He held back a sob as pain pulsed through his head and ribs. 

He wasn't sure how many minutes had passed. And honestly, he didn't care. 

How did this start anyway? With him just nudging Jackson? 

"Will?" a voice asked softly. 

He opened his eyes, meeting Charlotte Reidall's.  "Char—Charlotte?" he whispered. 

"Yeah. It's me." She bent down, resting her hand on his back. "What happened? Who did this to you?" 

There was an angry tone in her voice, just visibly. Will shook his head, fighting to keep the tears away from his eyes. "No one." 

"Cut the nonsense," Charlotte snapped. "Someone hurt you, Will. Tell me right now, or I swear to every deity there is—" 

"Jackson," he choked out. "It was—it was Jackson." 

There was rage in Charlotte's eyes, and she leant back on the balls of her feet, ready to stand. But Will's arm shot out and he cried, "No! Don't!" 

"Why?" was all Charlotte asked. 

"If you hurt him, he hurts you back," Will murmured. Cold tears slid down his hot cheeks as he looked at his older sister's best friend. "Please. Don't. Rosemary'll never forgive me." 

"Of course she would," Charlotte snorted. "Does she know?" 

"No," Will said. "She only knows about the very first time, when I got suspended—" 

"What?!" Charlotte exclaimed. "You got what—" 

"Suspended," Will replied, looking at her strangely. "Aren't you James's twin? Didn't he tell you?" 

She pursed her lips, and her gaze darkened from anger and sadness. She shook her head. "No...he and...um, no. He didn't." 

"Don't tell Rosemary," he begged. "She'll go to Jackson. Jackson hurt her—" 

"He WHAT." Charlotte made to get up, a scowl on her face. 

"No! Charlotte!" he painfully sat up, holding back a whimper of pain. "Please. You...you can't hurt him. Don't even get close to him. He'll hurt you. And Rosemary. Don't tell her—you can't tell anyone, or else, or else, he'll hurt..."

He broke down in cries, and Charlotte sunk back down to her knees, pulling him into a hug. 

"It's okay," she said soothingly. "It's okay. We'll get through this. Next time he hurts you, find me." 

He nodded. 

"No," Charlotte said, looking at his tear-stained face. "Promise me." 

"I promise." 

"Good." Charlotte stood, helping him up. "Let's go get you cleaned up, and the next time Jackson attacks you, he'll know who he's facing." 

---

CURRENT DAY, NOVEMBER 27

He washed his tear-stained face, pulling out the tube of aloe vera Charlotte had bought him less than a month ago. 

Rosemary had missed Charlotte; after all, they were best friends. 

But Will missed her, too. He found that her strength had kept him steady—and it was nice having a strong person by his side who always had his back. 

Why did she leave without telling Rosemary?

Why did she leave without telling him? 

He shut himself in a stall, quickly rubbing the bruises with the aloe vera, mentally thanking Charlotte. As he walked out of the bathroom, he wished (for the millionth time that day) that Charlotte was there. 

She had always waited in front of the bathroom door, her face calm but her eyes alight with rage. 

"You sure you don't want me to beat him up?" she asked him every time.

"Yes," he always responded back. 

"Okay," she would say, and would keep on helping him, every day. She never got angry at Will. She never asked why he always showed up with bruises. She saw him, her brows scrunched together,  and she would tilt her head to the bathroom. 

Will sighed, flipping his dark hood over his head, bending his head down, shielding as much of himself as he could. He sped down the hallway toward his locker, and when he glanced up, his steps faltered. 

Rosemary stood there, talking with James. At his gaze, she glanced up, scanning the hallway, her eyes flitting over his hoodie-clad body, unrecognizing him. He let out a sigh of relief, turning around on his heel, deciding to spend the rest of his lunch at the library. 

---

He rocked back and forth, his eyes staring at the headstone. At the name carved in smooth letters. She had died two years ago, though it seemed like she had died just yesterday.

He still remembered the shock. He remembered all the anger he had ever felt for her dissipate. 'No,' he had thought. 'They're lying. She's okay.' 

But he hadn't seen her in some time. He didn't know if she was okay or not. He hadn't had called her in days. Weeks. 

Maybe even months. 

He couldn't remember. 

He felt the empty space in him. His entire life, he had had her. But now she was gone. 

He'd never see her again. 

He had said sorry too many times; but they were meaningless now. Maybe if she'd been alive, she would've forgiven him. 

No. 

If she was alive, she would've forgiven him in a heartbeat. No question asked. 

She loved him.

He hated her. 

He hated how the world worked. How it just took and took and took and never gave. 

"Please," he whispered. "If you can hear me, please somehow let me know you forgive me." 

He waited.

And waited.

and waited...

But no answer came. 

~ Lyn

Words: 936

Eek, Will and Charlotte's relationship is sooo cuteee <333 

Okay, so I have a question today! *dances in a circle, hands in the air* 

What do YOU think will happen later on? 

I'm very curious to find out!! 

Keep commenting, keep voting, and please share with your friends! Don't be a silent reader :( 

See you soon!