Window

23.

The first day that Dean didn't show up to school didn't concern Emma. They'd had an emotional conversation, and she was sure Dean needed some time to collect himself and his thoughts. She knew he wasn't running away from his feelings again, not after what he'd said to her. So she knew there was no reason to worry. 

The second day Dean didn't show up to school earned a twinge in the depths of Emma's core, a drop of worry in the endless seas of her mind. But she told herself that everything was fine. There was no need to overreact. Dean was simply still working some things out, and Emma knew that she should let him. 

But when the third day came and Dean didn't show up to school, and still hadn't answered his phone or her texts, that's when Emma started to worry. 

Warm sun poured in through the classroom window, creating a suffocating feeling that made Emma shift. Her leg bounced furiously beneath the desk, her nails drumming against the desk. The phone lay still on the surface in front of her, the messages open.

'Hey, I know you're probably still reeling from everything that went on, but if you still need to talk, you can talk to me.'
'Dude, you skipping class again? I thought we were done with that'

'Dean, could you answer my calls? I know you probably aren't feeling up to coming to school, but at least talk to me. Maybe I can help.'
'Dean, I'm starting to get worried. Want to send me something to at least let me know you're alive'.

'Okay, enough. Please, respond. Answer my calls. Did something bad happen to you? Are you in trouble Dean? Please, just let me help.'
'Dean?'

Gulping nervously, Emma felt her stomach churn. She could feel it, like the soft flutter of wings brushing against your skin. It was there, touching her skin, running through her thoughts, but she couldn't quite grasp it. All she knew was that something was wrong. 

"Hey, ready for another hour of A.P.E.S. or can we just skip?" Charlotte sung as she sauntered into the room, dropping her bag down on the tiled floor before perching in her seat. 

Emma offered a laugh, the artificial sound only illuminating her distraction. Leaning over her desk, Emma's shoulders hunched over the phone as if protecting it from the harsh world around her. Her fingers hit keys, stringing together sentences before her mind said no, and she erased the thought. 

Charlotte leaned closer, her blue eyes fluttering down the antsy leg that failed to remain still. "Hey, are you okay? You seem...nervous" Charlotte observed in a soft voice, reaching out where she laid a steadying hand on Emma's shoulder. 

The muscles twitched beneath the touch, Emma's eyes those of someone who had suffered a loss. "If I tell you something, do you promise not to judge me? Do you promise to keep it a secret, and support me?" Emma inquired in a hushed voice, her observant eyes dancing around the crowded room. 

Dark eyebrows pulling together in confusion, Charlotte nodded affirmatively. Her heart jumped a bit, curiosity swirling with worry before pulsing through her veins. "Of course, Emma. I'm your best friend. You can trust me" she promised, squeezing Emma's shoulder in encouragement. 

Running her tongue over her chapped lips, Emma decided that she could no longer handle this on her own. "I'm worried about Dean" Emma breathed, Charlotte's eyes flaring in objection. "Char, please, listen to me. We talked. He apologized for everything, and he explained something really bad that happened to him. Charlotte, he's not who you think he is. I promise."

Shaking her head softly, Charlotte pulled her hand into her lap. Cocking her head to the side, Charlotte raised her eyebrows in questioning. "Really? Because I think he's a jerk that's just gonna keep playing you. What could he have possibly said that explained what he's done?" she questioned, her arms crossed over her chest.