High

Chapter Seventeen- Broken glass

I looked at her perplexed, then I shifted my gaze to her report card, "Again?" I questioned, quite surprised at the fact that she'd gotten a low grade.

She groaned from underneath my blanket and pulled it over her head, effectively giving her chestnut hair a messy bed head look. "I thought you said that I learned from you. I'd get flying colors in swimming." She pitifully pouted.

I spun around in my desk chair, Ellie shot me a look, annoyed by the squeaky nose that had erupted from the rusty chair. I stopped and turned to face her.

"I never said that you'd get flying colors. I suggested that I teach in order to save your failing grade."

I looked back at her report card, "Which I did. If my memory serves me right, you were at an F. And you got a C."

"Minus. Maxwell. Never forget about the minus." She added as she hid herself underneath the blanket once more.

"And? All I see is improvement, and all you can see is failure. You did good, kid." I said, lifting the blanket from her grasp.

She groaned once more and threw her a playful glare, "Come on. Stop being so pessimistic for once."

I made my way into the bathroom and changed into my swimming shorts, and I had two towels that sat atop  my shoulders.

"Let's go." I said, and I threw the towel at her face. I was aiming for her arm.

She huffed annoyingly, "You know, you'd think that instead of another swimming lesson, you'd be more empathetic and call in a sick day for the both of us."

"I would love that. But you need the practice, and you'd regret not taking a chance to swim with me."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind spending time away from the water." She huffed and placed her chain on the pillow. Her eyes were downcast from her results.

"Come on," I encouraged, " The more you practice, the better you'll get, and then you can get the water's *ss."

"Water doesn't have an *ss." She remarked, a small tug of her lips emerging.

I shrugged, "The pool contains a body of water. It's a body, so it does have an *ss."

Finally, a small laugh erupted from her lips. A sound that I wouldn't mind listening to for a while.

***

I ran up the stairs to Ellie's apartment as fast as I could. Skipping stairs as I did so. My loud and hurried steps made a noise as I ran further up the stairs. People threw me looks of disapproval.

The Auckland apartments were  notorious for their tranquil atmosphere, and the landlords made sure to boast about it to prospective clients.

Knock.

Knock.

KNOCK!

I opened my mouth to shout Ellie's name, I knew that she was inside. "Ellie! Open up, it's Max!"

My knocks become more erratic and more demanding. Notifying anyone of  my rushed panic.

I lifted my hand. It knocked on the door once more, but my clasped hand stopped in front of enlarged eyes.

Ellie's hands clasped around my left wrist, lowering my hand down. I blinked, "What the h*ll, Max?" She hissed at me, "You're gonna disturb the neighbors."

I blinked at her concerns, "Who cares, Elliott, are you okay?"

Her hands were still holding my wrists, and I clasped my hands around hers, looking down at her knuckles. They were bruised. Glaring back at me.

"I'm fine, Max." She spoke out in a whisper.

My jaw clenched slightly, and I sighed, forcing out a small smile. I glanced at the kitchen behind her, "So? Do you want green tea or chamomile?"

I hated that this was all I could do. It was all Ellie permitted me to do.

Whenever something like this happened, Ellie would send a period. And I would come running.

No questions asked.

And despite my better judgment, instead of dealing with it head-on, I would be there to help Elliott pick up the pieces.

No matter how tiny or scattered they were.

"How long has that been there?" I asked her, my eyes focused on the shattered glass that was scattered on the kitchen floor.

How pitifully ironic.

My sneakers crushed the glass further as I entered the kitchen.

Elliott closed the door softly and sniffled, "Not long. I was just gonna clean it up, actually."

I hummed and opened the cupboard, taking out two cups.

"Is she out? Did she..." I let my words hang in the air.

"She's gone. Yeah, she left a few minutes ago." Ellie spoke over the soft noise of her cleaning the shattered glass.

I sighed pathetically, "Elliott, why don't you crash with me for a while? We'll tell her where you are and -"

"Maxwell." Elliott warned me, her eyes focused on looking for any tiny fragments of glass, "I told you. I'm not leaving her. She needs me."

She stood up and threw the glass in the trash, her eyebrows furrowed, annoyed at the fact that I brought this up for the umpteenth time.

"Elliott, don't you realise that you can't save her? She needs help, definitely. But she can't use you as her medicine."

"Yes, I know, Max. Why do you think that I'm allowing her to use me as her outlet? If I can't save her, then the least I could do is provide some sort of relief." She retaliated with unshed tears.