I Have Nowhere Else to Turn

Chapter Nine

She was blunt about it; no point in hiding it and making the situation awkward and stilted. It would become too obvious to ignore soon, anyways.

"I'm going to go back to my own dorm."

Alex knew she wasn't sick anymore, so there was no reason to keep her in Jefferson's dorm.

Well, there shouldn't have been, but rarely her heart wanted something that coincided with mind. Not that it was an affair of the heart. That would be absurd.

Emotional attachment to a person who had vilified her since they had first met wouldn't make any sense. But, then again, they had an odd friendship blossoming so, it wasn't impossible.

James wasn't surprised, shrugging; she was no longer sick, which was the whole purpose of why she was down there to begin with. "Okay."

Thomas, on the other hand, was thinking something different. "Why?" He blurted out, seeming as surprised to have asked the question as Alex was to hear it come out of his mouth.

"Because," She began slowly, looking at him as if he had done something weird. (Which was completely understandable, because he did.) "I'm not sick, so there is no reason for me to stay here."

The young man didn't know what say. He was Thomas Freaking Jefferson! Emotionally stunted wasn't a thing he was ever supposed to be. "Do you need us to help get anything back upstairs for you?" Read 'us' as 'me'.

"I am more than capable of carry my own items up to my room," She said, indignant.

Rolling his eyes, Thomas smiled inwardly. How bad was it that he was beginning to find her argumentativeness endearing? "Fine."

But Alex was right: she didn't have much to take back to her room with her. The pile of books that she had bought, a few items of clothing, a hairbrush, a toothbrush, and a pen and notebook. All of which was easy to fold and/or stack on top of each other.

But, as much as Jefferson tried to deny it, he didn't want her to leave. Not yet. So, he did what he could to buy him sometime. "But I'm still coming with you." Thinking about what could happen, Thomas couldn't help but find the irony of what would typically be described as a rather unfortunate twist of events: Thomas has crush on girl, girl falls down stairs, girl dies, Thomas is depressed.

Moral of the story: No more crushes.

And, no, his mind didn't go into weird alleyways that shouldn't exist.

He tried to be somewhat useful, giving an excuse as to why he was even there by opening the doors so she didn't have to set anything down.

Once they got to her rooms, she sat everything on the bed while Thomas leaned against the door frame, trying not to stare at her.

"Alex," He began, not having any clue as what to say next.

"Thomas," She countered, teasingly smiling at him, near used to their banter. It was nowhere near the acid spitting verbal duels they used to have, meaning every word they said. Sure, the two of them had some of the sharpest minds and tongues, so, when arguments ensued, they always prided themselves in their comebacks, but they weren't as cruel.

He blushed, but stammered his way through the sentence, wishing he had some liquid courage at that time.

Or any courage, for that matter. "I just wanted to let you know that y-you are welcome to stop by whenever. I'm sure James would appreciate that." Such a good best friend he was, using him as a scapegoat.