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Stella lifted the water bottle up to her lips, letting the harsh taste of vodka wash over her tongue. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. She hadn't slept in days. All she did was cry and drink.
"Thank you for coming in, Stella," Mr. Porter said, clasping his hands awkwardly on the desk.
"Why am I here?" Stella snapped.
"You've been through a lot these past couple of weeks. Your parents suggested that I call you in for grief counseling. I wanted to talk to you and see where your head was at," Mr. Porter said gently.
"My boyfriend is dead-- that's more than a lot," Stella snapped. Mr. Porter took a long, deep breath. She could see it in his eyes that he was trying to plan out his next words very carefully.
"Tell me about Jeff," Mr. Porter suggested.
"I don't want to talk about Jeff," Stella said quickly, her eyes filling up with tears.
"Okay. Then tell me how you're feeling. Are you okay?" Mr. Porter asked slowly.
"Do I look okay?" Stella snapped.
"That was a stupid question, huh?" Mr. Porter sighed.
"No shit, Sherlock," Stella snapped.
"Language, please," Mr. Porter sighed.
"You haven't been to cheerleading practice in a couple days--" Mr. Porter said slowly.
"Just get to the point, Mr. Porter," Stella snapped coldly.
"I just need you to talk to me, Stella. Tell me something," Mr. Porter urged.
"Fine. You want to hear something. I forgot that he was gone last night. I called him. It didn't hit me until I heard his voice on his voicemail message that he was dead and those words were the only words I'm ever going to hear him say ever again," Stella barked angrily.
"We can work through this, Stella. This is good," Mr. Porter said gently.
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"This is good," Jeff sighed, tracing gentle circles on her palm as she lay there in his bed.
"Damn right it is," Stella sighed, leaning over and pressing her lips to his. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her in closer to him.
"I've got to get up or else I'll be late for work," Stella sighed, pushing him away.
"Baby. This is a once and a lifetime opportunity. Both of our parents are out of town at the same time. This kind of stuff doesn't just happen. God wants us to lay in bed all day and have a naked lazy day," Jeff said quickly, leaning down to kiss her neck, trying to convince her.
"I've got to go to work," Stella sighed, starting to sit up. Jeff smirked, pulling her back down and reaching over her to grab her phone off of the beside table.
"Hi, may I speak to the manager?" Jeff said into the phone, pushing her hands away as she tried to snatch the phone out of his hands. He could barely stifle his laughter.
"Hi, this is Mr. Marlowe. I'm Stella's daddy. She's not going to be able to make it into work today. She's got a fever. She's feeling really hot and I don't think she's even going to be able to get out of bed today. Thank you for understanding. Have a great day," Jeff said to her manager. Stella's eyes were wide and her jaw hung agape. Jeff bit his lip, laughing to himself. He pulled her back into the bed as she snuggled into his side.
"What movie do you want to watch, baby?" Jeff asked, kissing the top of her head.
"You pick. I picked the last one," Stella sighed, cuddling as close as she could.
"Fine," Jeff sighed happily, picking up the remote and turning on the tv.
▽
"Fine. You want to talk? Let's talk," Stella sighed angrily.
"How did you feel when you found out about the accident?" Mr. Porter asked slowly.
"How did I feel? How did I feel?" Stella scoffed.
"Yes, Stella. How did you feel?" Mr. Porter repeated.
"Like my heart got ripped out of my chest and thrown onto the highway during rush hour," Stella hissed. Mr. Porter nodded, scribbling notes on a legal pad.
"You're writing that down?" Stella scoffed.
"It's important to see how far you've come," Mr. Porter sighed, looking back up at her. Stella scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes.
"I also need to ask you a couple of questions that the police left for you. I know this is hard, but I need you to answer these honestly," Mr. Porter said, trying his best to deliver each word gently. He paused for a long time, meticulously planning each thing he was about to say.
"Did Jeff have a history with drinking and driving?" Mr. Porter asked slowly. Stella huffed loudly, offended that he would even ask her a question like that.
"Jeff wasn't drunk," she snapped.
"I know that is what you would like to believe, but--" Mr. Porter said quickly.
"You know what, Mr. Porter-- fuck you, fuck your grief counseling, fuck this school, and fuck everyone in it. I'm out of here," Stella snapped, standing up out of her seat and storming out of his office. She passed by a girl with short, brown hair, waiting to go into Mr. Porter's office. She tried her best to offer the girl a small smile. The girl-- Stella was pretty sure her name was Hannah-- smiled sadly at her.
She stomped into the hallway, glaring at the drunk driving posters plastered all over the walls. She ripped them down as she passed by, hating them for what they said, what they meant. The tears slipped down her cheeks like a waterfall of pain with each step she took. She pushed open the doors to the school, running towards her brothers car.
Stella sat in the front seat of her brother's car, holding her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Hey, hey. Stels you're gonna be okay. I promise. Hey, come here," Noah said, jumping into the car, and pulling his sister into a hug over the center console.
"He's dead, Noah," Stella sobbed as he rubbed her back soothingly.
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a/n: Welcome to my Jeff Atkins fanfic. I am so excited to write this. Jeff is a bean and he deserved so much better. As you can probably tell from this chapter, the story is going to switch from present day to flashbacks. The flashbacks are in chronological order, but there are time skips. The story starts eleven days after the accident. I wanted to tell you guys now so that there was no confusion down the line! I hope you guys enjoy!!!!
