I stole the card for Blake's room from where it was on the coffee table and crept to his room.
The waiter was lying on the floor unconscious but luckily there was no blood. Blake was kneeling beside him, fanning him with a newspaper.
'W-what happened?' I asked. 'He's not dead, is he?'
Blake stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head.
'He bumped into this vase and it fell onto him and he dropped the tray on his foot and the teacup fell and broke and he got hurt,' he rushed out. 'Oh, HELP me, Gemma!'
I fanned too until he woke up. We apologised profusely and then I gave him some money and told him to keep it. He asked if Blake wanted more lunch and he said no thanks. So the waiter decided not to tell anyone.
'Blake,' I sat on the bed, 'why did you kill Ryan?'
He sat on the bed next to me and glared at me. If looks could kill...
'You don't have to answer that question,' I squeaked.
'It's okay,' he said. 'I guess I was frustrated, I have no idea why. And I needed a way to get rid of it. And Ryan was a friend who I could easily get into the toilets. No one else would listen. And I guess I just did it. But now I feel so freaking guilty.' He hung his head in shame.
'It's okay,' I gave him a huge hug.
'But I don't want to be grounded,' he said quietly.
'Give your parents a few days to trust you and I assure you, you'll be as free as a bird.' I flapped my arms around and pulled a funny face. Blake giggled.
'You always know how to make people laugh, Gemma,' he said, 'no wonder Jonas loves you so much.'
I blushed and touched the fading scar on Blake's cheek.
'Does...does that hurt?' I asked.
He nodded. 'A bit.'
'How'd you get it?'
'I got in a fight.'
'Oh Blake!' I said, giving him a huge hug.
'You're squeezing me to death,' he said.
I let go, took his hand and the card and led him out of the room.
I knocked on my door and Paul opened it. He gasped when he saw Blake. He let us in nevertheless.
Jonas furrowed his eyebrows when he saw me holding Blake's hand so I gave his hand a little squeeze, let go and sat on the bed with Jonas, putting my arm around him. I rested my head on his shoulder and he played with my hair, putting it into tiny plaits and undoing it, twirling it around his finger, as if tying me to him forever.
