Eastwood Academy

Chapter 43: For So Long (River's POV)

*A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS*

Happy New Years! Sorry for the extended silence. We have been on holiday with our family. Once again, thank you all so much to everyone who has supported our writing. It means the world to us. Please keep commenting and liking! Also feel free to tell us about yourself! Where are you from? What are your hobbies and what are your fave book tropes?

We have some really cool art projects coming up, if you want to stay up to date check out our art page and follow our instagram rose_sky_miller. We will be updating throughout the upcoming months.  

We also have a secret we've been keeping. Most of you have probably picked up on the hints we've been leaving that there's more stories to tell at Eastwood. We're so excited to officially announce that we'll be writing more books! Can you guess who's next?

XOXO Rose and Sky Miller 

I can tell something's wrong when Brooklyn returns from the bathroom. Her demeanor has changed completely. A few minutes ago, she was happy, laughing, and social. Now she's reserved and shut down. She sits beside me, as beautiful as ever but a world away, lost in her thoughts. Inaccessible to me in a way that sends a stab of fear through my body.

It's hard to tell because she won't meet my gaze, but I think I see a hint of tears swimming in her eyes. The realization sickens me. I hate seeing Brooklyn cry. I hate when she's upset, period, but it also reminds me how many times I was responsible for putting her into a similar state. The thought is enough to make my stomach roll.

Whoever did this, they're lucky I wasn't there to witness it. If it was a guy, I'd find him and put him in the hospital; to hell with what the school and my dad think. They'd never know anyway.

Finally, after another few minutes of Brooklyn sitting pale and silent next to me, I reach the point where I can't stand it. " Can we go somewhere quiet?" I ask her, taking her hand and finding it cold in mine.

"Sure," she says, her voice so soft it sends another pulse of worry through me. Even more concerning is the fact that she won't meet my eyes. I'm accustomed to seeing her fired up when she's upset. Seeing her this shutdown is new. It scares me because I don't know how to get through to her. Stay by her side, but let her work through whatever is bothering her on her own? Or do I push her, get Brooklyn to tell me what's wrong?

Taking another look at her face as I lead her away from the center of the party, I know it will be the second option. Maybe it's selfish of me to demand answers, but I can't stand to sit here in silence and see Brooklyn like this. Everything in me demands that I do something, anything to fix it.

It seems wrong to take her to a bedroom in her current state. I don't want her to think I'm expecting anything from her. So I wind up leading Brooklyn back to the den upstairs, where she found me at the first party of the year Tyler threw. That feels like a lifetime ago. I wince, thinking about my atrocious behavior towards her and all the awful things I said. I have to fight the little voice in the back of my head that screams at me that I don't deserve someone as good as Brooklyn.

So much has changed since then, I remind myself. I'm different. We're different. We're a couple now, and that means finding a way to get through to her when she's stuck in her head, even though a part of me is terrified and convinced that I'll just fuck everything up and push her away from me.

I usher Brooklyn inside, hoping she'll open up to me once we're alone. My hope turns out in vain as Brooklyn walks soundlessly to the edge of the couch. Sitting down, she puts her legs up to her chest, wraps her arms around her knees, and stares out the window.