How To Love A Dead Boy

Chapter 13 | The Blue House

THE BLUE HOUSE

I burst into the bathroom and skid to a stop in front of a mirror. In the reflection, I watch as big red rings form around my eyes and my nose becomes a shade of pink. I grasp the edges of the basin and breath deeply into the sink. My nails dig against the porcelain and I kick at the wall aggressively underneath.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I scold myself. You should never have talked to him in public, let alone in school.

Breathing deeply through my nose, I do everything in my power to not scream out my anger, my frustration, my hurt and my fear. My knuckles have gone as white as the porcelain and when I look up into the mirror, I'm met with a wreck.

Her mascara has smudged all around her eyes and I watch as her bottom lip trembles.

Crying won't do anything to solve this.

With the sleeve of my blazer, I dry my eyes and rub off the remaining mascara. When I look back to the mirror, I have a friend in my reflection. Ryden looks at me, pity in his eyes.

"You lied to me," I sputter.

In the mirror, he shuts his eyes and heaves a sigh.

"I know," he replies, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Why? Huh? I would have much rather leaned from you that the rumour was out, rather than that bitch!" I yell at him. Ryden opens his eyes and I wipe mine again.

"Lucy, I-I... I just thought that... look-I... I couldn't tell you," he barely explains, before diverting his eyes down and hanging his head, "This is all my fault. I specifically didn't want this to happen because it's exactly what happened to me and I can't bear to watch it happen to someone else while I sit on the sidelines. If I was alive right now-"

"If you were alive none of this would have ever happened," I state, without thinking. He instantly looks up at me and draws in his eyebrows.

"Why'd you have to get in that car?" I ask, feeling the anger take over my emotions. His face instantly changes and the pity in his eyes swirls into a mess of hurt and anger.

"This has nothing to do with that," he replies, raising his voice.

"Yes, yes it does! It has everything to do with it! You wouldn't be dead if you hadn't gotten in that car," I continue. He breathes heavily through his nose once, appearing to control himself.

"Yeah? Well why the hell were you walking down a deserted country road late at night? If you hadn't been walking down there I wouldn't have had to to reach over and grab the steering wheel to avoid you!" Ryden yells at me, his voice harsh.

All my anger flushes away at once and I'm left staring at him in mirror, breathless. We stand there for a moment longer, staring at the other, before his face relaxes and his shoulders slump a little. Ryden runs his hands through his hair and laces them behind his neck, breaking our eye contact and looking to the floor.

"I stayed back late at school for a detention. When I went out to get my bike, someone had punctured the tyre and I had to walk the whole way home because Noah was at work and my dad was in London. There. That's why. Are you happy?" I ask.

He doesn't reply. In fact, he doesn't say anything for a long while. All he does is slowly bend his knees to crouch down, his fingers still laced behind his head. I have to take a step closer to the mirror in order to see him. In the reflection, he's crouched by my feet.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, his voice quiet and weak.

I tightly shut my eyes and open them again, placing a hand on my forehead.