Chapter Three –June’s P.O.V.
The sound of the doorbell wakes me from my slumber.
I roll over sleepily. There’s a fraction of a second where I forget. Forget that she’s gone. For a fraction of a second, it’s like my best friend isn’t dead.
And then it’s gone. It’s gone and my heart feels like lead in my chest.
‘’Kay?! The door!’’ I manage to choke out when the ringing persists. When there’s no answer, I haul myself to my feet. Whoever’s at the door has started rapping on the wood, apparently convinced the bell is broken. My bare feet hit the cold dusty floor. I glance down and find I am wearing only a baggy white t-shirt with black spidery lettering reading Loser. ‘That about fits,’ I think. I pull on a pair of shorts that are lying on the ground, and quickly pull my tousled hair into a horrendously messing ponytail with a stray black bobbin from my left wrist.
The pounding at the door is getting louder, and I sigh. I head towards the door, shivering. I rub my hands on my forearms as I walk, in a desperate attempt to warm up. I pull open the door.
‘’Took your time, Love.’’ Says a gruff voice. My eyes meet a pair of pale, washed out blue ones. They belong to a balding, middle-aged man with day-old stubble, a little shorter than me. He’s holding a clipboard, which he holds up.
‘’June, Winters?’’ He squints at the writing. ‘’Kayla Scott?’’
‘’Yeah. That’s me.’’ My voice is hoarse. From crying and lack of use over the last few weeks.
‘’Yeah, well there’s a delivery for you.’’
‘’Oh.’’ I say simply. I sign the check, making a mental note to ask Kayla about this. It slips, however, to the back of my mind, I have other things to think about.
He starts hauling some boxes into the hall, his navy overalls straining over his bulk.
‘’Thank you.’’ I say politely. He pauses in the doorway and raises his eyes expectantly.
Tip. I fumble around in a box and pull out Kay’s purse. I’ll pay her back. I tip him and he nods his thanks.
As he’s closing the door he pops his head back in. ‘’D’ya need a hand, love?’’ He asks, a little warmer than before.
‘’No. Thank you, though. I’ll be fine.’’ I say flatly. Sure, how hard could it be?
~*~
It’s pretty hard.
Three hours later I’m perched on the breakfast counter, looking forlornly at the large gash at the side of my hand.
The boxes turned out to contain a kitchen table, coat stand for the hall, sofa, cabinet and some kitchen chairs, all unassembled. The cut? Let’s just say I’ve never been too good at DIY. Or opening things.
I press a wad of kitchen towels to the open wound, the crimson spreading across the innocent white of the tissue. I can’t help but associate it to death, one cut opened a wound, and the marks spread mercilessly, affecting everything it touches.
I barely notice the tears until one falls from my wet cheek onto my skin with a little splash.
~*~
The door opens with a noisy jangle of keys and a waft of fresh air and perfume.
Kayla’s heels clack on the floor. I hear her lock the door and throw down her coat.
She comes into the kitchen and I glance up. She smiles weakly at me. She holds out her hand, offering my a shiny red can of Coca Cola. Beads of condensation from the cold can drip onto her warm hand. Cold. She just bought it. Pity for the distraught girl who can’t handle her emotions properly. I take the Coke with a smile. I crack it open, trying not to let the aluminium touch the newly drying blood on my hand.
‘’Everything arrive?’’
‘’I think so.’’ I nod. ‘’I used your card.’’
She eyes my hand with a frown.
‘’Did they not send someone to help?’’
‘’They did. But I don’t need help.’’
She scowls at the instruction manual lying on the open box, it has a splodge of blood on it. ‘’Clearly.’’
I take a gulp from the can. The bubbles go up my nose and I cough, my eyes watering. I’ve always preferred Coke flat.
She glances at me and her expression softens. ‘’come on.’’ She says quietly. ‘’Givvus a hand, eh?’’
I nod with a smile. I ease myself off the counter, and take a long gulp of the fizzy liquid. I hold it out to Kay, who takes a drink before putting it down. ‘’Table first. I don’t want to eat my dinner off the floor again.’’
I nod and we get the work, Kay bossing my gently about, playfully teasing my DIY incompetence. I even find myself laughing, and the sound shocks me.
~*~
It’s late, and it’s getting dark outside, but neither of us are tired, or at least, we don’t want to sleep.
We sit on our new sofa, feet on the coffee table, slumped into the fabric, our eyes glued to our laptop screens. The light emitting from them is the only light source in the room.
We tap away in silence. I’m more of an ‘internet person’ than Kayla, sometimes staying up till 4am with my laptop burning into my legs, but Kayla is a really great singer, and she’s always making music videos, and staying up to edit them.
Being an Internet person, and having neglected it for so long, being back on it is addictive, and I feel my eyes adjusting to the artificial light, my fingers loosening up as I type. My inbox is flooded, my twitter indirects page full, tumblr ask box at the max, from people wanting to know where I had been for the last few weeks, after all, I usually tweeted every twenty seconds, posting daily fanfictions and obsessing over YouTubers.
There are so many new uploads, and I’m getting really into it, commenting and tweeting again, but completely avoiding the one subject everyone is asking about.
Then I see something interesting in my ‘Recommended for You’ list. I furrow my eyebrows, I don’t recognise the youtuber.
He looks nice though, tall and lanky and pale, in a panda beanie and grey tank top. It’s the title, however, that really gets my attention.
‘Things To Do Before you die.’ I click on it curiously. The boy’s name is Bribry. He turns out to be an Irish musician.
His best friend is dead.
A/N Well would you look at that? Ellen updated. *gasps* Sarah didn't even have to badger me!!! Woo! Bribry's link in the comments. Song is Electric Wave by Tom Milsom (I LOVE LOVE LOVE Tom Milsom ermagerd)
Dedicated to Amy_TW for being the only person to comment on my last chapter. If I hadn't have seen that I probably wouldn't have typed this up so early.
If you read this comment 'YouTubers have destroyed my life.' First person will get a dedication, and every one else a virtual bunny
