Finding the Pure Note

We Could Touch the Sky

"... not to mention their parents!" Chelsea huffs, gesturing grandly like an opera singer. "Anyone who messes with my friends is public enemy number one, and you can be sure I'll unleash hell in a ten-mile radius!"

Her words manage to draw a smile on Fletcher's lips, and I pull him closer, holding my lips to his forehead, rubbing his arm. My boyfriend. Fletcher Maddox.

We couldn't stay at the bike shed forever. A few minutes passed as a sheet of rain exiled us and we looked aimlessly for a quiet place. Inside is full of stragglers and teachers. The eastern courtyard, nestled in between two buildings, was our answer. We took down the stairs, the place much like a stone pit, and I called Chelsea to let her know what was up. She didn't have choir thankfully and said she'd be over right away.

So here we all are, sat at the solitary table, only a measly old umbrella to protect us. Our pitiful sanctuary.

Fletcher's eyes were red, but he hadn't been crying since we arrived, and it doesn't feel like a good thing. Anything hurts less than the quiet, the absence of life and emotion that shows the beautiful fragile human you are. All that silence leaves is a hollow shell, and as cruel as it sounds, I'd rather Fletcher was crying so I'd know I could pull him from this. I'd never seen him this lifeless.

Fletcher doesn't really respond, only letting me hold him. Chelsea's comforting words are falling on dead ears. I consider telling Chelsea to leave. I wanted her here and her intentions are well, but I don't know how much we're really helping. I at least want Fletcher to snap a little out of this haze first, and I'm honestly fucking clueless here. I need her help.

Chelsea's expression, painted in fury, drops and she looks as drained as we feel. She huddles closer to us, wrinkling her nose, shivering in the cold. She makes a comment about moving somewhere dry but Fletcher just shakes his head. She takes Fletcher's left, untethered hand in her own, her fingers tracing patterns, just like Jaz did with mine.

"Come on, baby," she murmurs, her lips offering a suggestion of a smile. "There's always gonna be arseholes in life, even to those of us without some condition, but you know you always have us, Clay and I, and we won't abandon you. If Kaylee has the stupid idea to try anything else with you, I won't let her. One word from me and that flock will scatter like birds.

"And it's not just your friends either. Your parents, Clay's parents, Jaz—we're all here for you, honey. The teachers will help too. It may feel like the world is against you, but that's because the idiots speak the loudest. You don't need to look very far to find kind souls."

Colour stirs in Fletcher's cheeks and he sits up, a smile forming that rips straight through my heart. I keep on rubbing his shoulder, reminding him I'm still here. I still have you. Don't you forget it, my beautiful Fletcher.

"Th-thank you," he coughs, clearing his throat as he realises how hoarse it is. "Thank you," he grins at both of us. "You're right. But I think I just need some time to think."

Chelsea gives his hand a little squeeze. "We can leave."

He shakes his head, but I speak first.

"No way am I leaving him alone."

Fletcher's grin melts my heart. "Fuck no," he agrees. "I need him, I think. Yeah, I need him." And then he's staring at me with those bruising gossamer eyes, lips trembling, until they find mine. I just know if things weren't so... yeah, Chelsea would be eating that kiss all up—she probably is, in her head. When he breaks off, he turns to Chelsea. "I think I just want to talk a little to Clay. I'm sorry, I promise we'll have a proper celebration."

Chelsea's grin explodes as she rises. "You bet we will. This is just a little hiccup; we're still celebrating the glorious day you two dolts finally stopped beating around the bush and hooked up. It was only a matter of time. Could swear I I told you that."