Watercolour

Thirty Seven

Alana's P.O.V

It had been nearing three weeks since the night Alex went into hospital and, still, he was completely unresponsive. In stories I'd heard before, this would be the point at which doctors would start considering the offer of unplugging but over the last few days, apparently his conditioned had improved in some way and although many doctors were still skeptical, there were a few who were convinced it was a sign he would eventually wake up. In how long? They were still nowhere nearer to an answer but, in heed of feeling so powerless, I thought the best I could do was to join them in their belief.

Even so, I often found myself in a strange state of emptiness; as if I was grieving. And no matter how hard I tried to tell myself to stop mourning over something that was still here and I couldn't help but feel as though the grieving had started months before the accident. As if he'd already gone.

"Hey stranger," George smiled, interrupting my thoughts and pulling me into a trademark sideways-hug. "How are you doing?"

"I suppose I'm alright," I replied as we both made our way down the hall and out towards the benches.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

George took off his bag and sat down. I stood beside him, leant against the wall with my arms crossed and my eyes locked on him. For the next few minutes, we were silent as he put all the notes from his previous lesson into his folder and I watched him. Mid-way through sliding something into a plastic wallet, he stopped.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting up on his feet and putting his hand on my arm. I took a small step back, making his hand fall again to his side.

"George, I'm fine - believe me," I said dismissively.

"What if I can't?"

"Then try harder, I don't know," I replied, knowing how much of a stupid response it was. "All I know is that I've had enough people bombarding me with questions and thought I could get a break from that if I was with you."

"Al-"

"But I obviously thought wrong," I added, cutting him off. He reached out his hand again and placed it on my arm.

"Al, I ju-"

"Please don't touch me," I said weakly, shaking him off.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Nothing. Nothing's happened."

I shifted my gaze from him to the floor and wished more than anything that I'd replied with a simple "Yeah, I'm good" when I first saw George.

I looked up. He was looking at me with a face of disbelief and was evidently wanting me to replace my response with something else.

"What's happened?" he asked again, much softer this time.

Words lingered in my mouth as I deliberated over what my next response would be. Seeing my hesitation, George took his hand to my shoulder and gently pulled me towards him. For a split second, I let myself bury my face in his chest; it was what I knew I needed. But not now. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

Finally getting the message, he sat down and looked dejectedly at the floor. After about half a minute of silence between us, I grabbed my bag and slid it onto my shoulders.

"Well, I'll see you around then," I said before turning away.

"You know what, Alana?" he snapped. "I sometimes wonder why I bother? Why should I have to try so hard to be your friend? I just want to help. I want to be here for you... like a good friend would be."

"Geor-" I started, turning around again.

"But obviously you wouldn't know about that because you've fucked all your relationships recently, haven't you?"

The words flew from his mouth so easily. Words I'd never thought he'd think, let alone say out loud. He looked up, knowing at once from the look in my eyes that they'd hit their mark and instant regret washed over his face.

*

When school finished, I didn't wait for George outside the gates. After I had walked away at lunch I hadn't seen him since and didn't think he would be giving me a lift home. And as I'd thought George would be driving me home, I hadn't picked up my bus pass.

After walking for a few minutes, I heard someone calling my name and I turned around expecting to see George. Instead, I saw Jace making his way towards me.

"Where are you going?" he asked, resting a hand on my shoulder.

He loosened his grip and took a step back, still holding my shoulder.

"Have you not heard?"

"Heard what?" I asked, beginning to panic.

"Alex," he continued, not easing my panic whatsoever.

Short but let's keep the ball rolling... x