Chapter 9

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Once again, sorry for the long wait. I recently discovered a little book called the Fault in Our Stars, and it’s been taking up a lot of my time. Last chapter didn’t get any votes, and since it’s you, the readers, that keep me going, I really appreciate a vote or a comment. Thanks x

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“Class, turn to page-” I sneezed, and for the sixth time in the last hour, wiped my nose. After sniffling a little, I apologetically glanced at the teacher, waiting for her to continue. “Grace, I think you need the nurse.”

“I’m fine, I-” As if on cue, I sneezed again.

“Come. I’ll write you a slip.” With the class’s eyes on me, I stood and collected my pass from the teacher, successfully making it out the door before coughing again. With Belle under my arm, I walked to the nurse, where she prescribed me some pills, then told me to go home and get some rest. She asked if I had a ride home, and after a long argument about walking on my own, she sent me on my way.

As usual, my house was quiet and empty. I wandered upstairs, turning on the shower and walking into the kitchen. While waiting for the shower to heat up, I turned the oven on and pulled a frozen pizza out from the freezer.

Once the pizza was in the oven, I walked up to the shower and stripped, grabbing a towel and hanging it over door. The hot water soothed my tired skin, and after what felt like seconds, I switched the water of and dried myself on my towel. I stood in my bra and sweatpants, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

My hair was wet and hung loosely past my shoulders. Even I would admit that it didn’t look half bad. I laughed to myself and shook my hair, sprinkling the mirror with small droplets of water.

Downstairs, I heard the oven go off. Without bothering to throw a shirt on, I raced downstairs and pulled the pizza out of the oven, placing it carefully on the countertop. Smoke had filled the kitchen, the crust of the pizza burnt, and I sighed in frustration. Picking up a knife, I began to cut it into slices.

“You never were a good cook.” I froze. The familiar voice echoed in my brain, and the knife slipped in my hand. My mind turned to a mess on the floor as I tried to comprehend the boy standing behind me. My hands shaking, I noticed the trickle of blood on my thumb.

Walking clumsily over to the sink, I refused to turn around as the cold water ran over my hand. With the blood gone, I gathered my thoughts and stood with my back to him.

“You need to put pressure on it.” Walking over, he placed his fingers tightly over the wound, which had once again begun bleeding. I spun quickly, placing my free hand on his chest, and pushing hand. He stumbled, and a sad smile appeared on his face.

“Don’t touch me.” He froze, staring down at me. My voice was dry and unhealthy, reminding me that I had forgotten to take my medicine.

“Buttercup, you can’t tell me what to do.” I watched his eyes wander down my body, and suddenly became very aware of my clothes, or rather, lack of. Crossing my arms across my chest, I shrugged uncomfortably.

I heard the sound of tires in the driveway, and pushed past him, running upstairs to my bedroom. Finding a Pink Floyd shirt on the floor, I grabbed for it, pulling it over my head. As I stood in the centre of my room, I quickly brushed a tear from my eye and walked slowly down the stairs, listening to Noah in the kitchen.

“Danny? What are you doing here?”

“You called the shop about your car, my boss sent me over to have a look at it.”

“Well, I’ll meet you outside.” I heard the front door open, and then Noah spotted me on the staircase. His expression turned soft and he spoke almost instantly,

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 16, 2014 ⏰

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