s h e

chapter twenty-four

Link and Joey calm you down and tuck you in.

It's the last night you feel loved for a little while.

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Good morning, empty apartment.

It's ironic that your heart can still fracture when this was something you saw coming from ten million miles away. How could Winnie, beautiful, chaotic Winnie, love someone like you?

At least your stomach isn't fluttering with nervous tension anymore. It's like all the butterflies just died.

You avoid the kitchen at all costs, because Winnie's mugs are in the sink and her sugar-coated cornflakes are in the cupboard and her waffle iron is still out on the counter. You try to avoid her room, the door still open so you can peer in on a pathetic-looking Lambeau.

You're taking off work today to desperately try and rid the apartment of Winnie's vanilla perfume. If you have to spend another second inhaling all that remains of the honey-haired songwriter, you'll go insane.

"Knock, knock," someone says, causing you to jump backwards and spill a bottle of lemon-scented disinfectant. The door swings open to reveal Link, his copy of the key to the apartment in hand. "I brought little chocolate donuts and straight bourbon to wash away your sorrows. I also have ice cream, I hear that it's a more popular choice," and he grins half-heartedly, grocery bags bunched up in his arms.

Despite the situation, you laugh. Despite the fact that you've ruined everything with your best friend, despite the fact that she's gone, left for God knows where and she may never come back, you laugh until it hurts.

Or maybe you're crying again. Because here Link is, pity in his eyes as he envelopes you in a hug and lets you fall against his chest.

Yep, you're definitely crying.

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"Where'd she go?" You ask later, when you're out of tears and out of hope, and your voice is so utterly wrecked that it might as well be radio static. Link doesn't answer at first.

"Melanie, maybe it's best if you come stay with Joey and I for a few days. I don't like the thought of you living here alone." He looks so uneasy, fidgeting and avoiding your eyes.

"Link. The truth. Now." He sighs.

"Mels, I... Winnie, she's-" You cut the stuttering boy off.

"She's not coming back, is she?" He shakes his head, his eyes shadowed with emotion.

Huh. You thought you would've felt more grief, felt more sheer anger, felt more anything, but instead a cold sense of calm passes through you.

Winnie's gone. For good, this time.

Huh.

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Kam, Marco, and Joey won't respond to your calls, and neither will the dream team. At least Tatem's talking to you,  in the form of some strongly worded voicemails.

"You absolute, completely selfish bitch. How could you do this to her? She's the greatest person I know, she doesn't deserve your shit. Get your fucking act together, Melanie Anais Robbins, and then maybe in a few thousand years I'll think about letting you see Winnie again."