"Friends" 2 || G.D. ||

24: Whispering

Lynn's P.O.V.

I lay in me and Grayson's bed thinking for the rest of the day. My stomach continues to growl signaling my hunger from not eating much the last few days because of my sickness but I know that if I try to eat something, then I am just going to throw it back up. I should probably go to the doctor and make sure that I don't have the flu. 

Sometimes Grayson sleeps in the bed with me, if Monica doesn't stay over. But when he does come into the bedroom and sleep in the same bed as me, he waits until I fall asleep. If Monica stays over, he sleeps on the couch and she sleeps next to him. 

I can feel a tear slip out of my eye as I think of how close they have become. It's like they are trying to make me depressed. Monica does the same thing to Ethan, too. Ethan has texted me about it. He wants to confront Grayson about it but I told him not to. 

What if Grayson and Monica become too close? What if... what if they sleep together? A shiver runs down my spine and my stomach drops. Another tear slips out of my eye. I angrily wipe the tears off of my face. 

I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of feeling this. You know what I mean? That feeling when you wake up but there is nothing to wake up for and you wish that you could just fall asleep and never wake up. The feeling where you have literally no motivation to do anything. That sinking feeling when you are just alone and want to be near someone. That ripping feeling when you are slowly losing someone and no matter what, it feels like you can't stop it. You know because you have tried to stop it. You have talked and begged and screamed and sobbed but they act like they just don't care. I'm just tired. Tired of it all. Tired of feeling. Tired of thinking. I'm just fucking tired.

My stomach screams at me to go eat something. I sigh and sit up. I am going to have to eat something. I just need to ignore my feelings. I just want to act like everything is okay. Maybe things will be okay if I do that. 

I open the bedroom door and I automatically hear whispering. I can hear a deeper voice and a lighter voice. Grayson and Monica. I creep down the hallway trying to not make a sound. 

"-maybe we should just stop. I don't like where you want this to go. It is going to hurt them both. I don't want to do that," the female voice says. Monica. 

"No, don't say that. Everything is perfect. Let's just continue. Just a couple more weeks. Maybe one and a half. Just don't throw it all away. It's all working out," Grayson says. 

"I don't know, Grayson," Monica says.

"Come on, please. I need to do this. I need them to understand" Grayson continues. 

Not being able to take any more of this whispering between the two and the curiosity taking over, I walk out of the hallway and walk past them. 

Their conversation automatically stops. I continue walking straight into the kitchen. What did Monica mean that it was going to hurt both of them? Who in the hell is she talking about? And what are they doing that is going to hurt someone? Why does Grayson want to continue to do it if it is hurting someone?

All these questions swirl through my head but I ignore them as I open the cupboard and grab a can of chicken noodle soup and pour it into a bowl. I set the bowl in the microwave. 

The questions try to peek back into my head. Why were they whispering? Why have they become so close? Why does Monica never try to talk to me? I mentally shove them away again. I walk back into the living room and look at them.

They are both turned, facing forward, watching the television that wasn't on a minute ago. 

"You guys hungry?" I ask. 

Grayson nods his head yes and Monica looks in my direction but not at me. 

"Sure," is all she says.

"Grilled cheese sound fine?" I ask.

Grayson nods his head again and Monica says yeah. 

I turn around and cook them the grilled cheese and pour them a glass of iced tea. I walk both plates into the front room and then go get the cups. I set everything on the small coffee table that sits in between the T.V. and the couch that they sit on. 

"There you go. There are chips in the kitchen if you want them, but I need to go shopping soon so we don't have a huge selection of chips," I state.

Grayson nods his head and Monica thanks me. I walk back to the kitchen and get my soup out of the microwave. It is slightly hot. I grab a bottle of water and a spoon. I head to me and Grayson's room carrying the bowl and my water. 

I try to eat most of the soup but I only end up eating half of it before my stomach starts to turn. I set my bowl off to the side and grab my water, trying to wash down the food. I hold my stomach, feeling it turn and twist. 

I stand up and walk out of the room and start walking down the hallway. Grayson turns around the corner of the hallway and looks like he is heading to the bathroom. I am heading to the bathroom too. 

I start to feel the vomit rising. I bolt towards the bathroom, hoping I don't throw up all over the wall. I can feel Grayson give me a weird look as I struggle to open the bathroom door and I hold a hand to my mouth. 

I throw open the door and run to the toilet, flipping the lip up. Almost as if on cue, everything from my stomach comes up. I feel the tears on my face and my nose is running. I feel a large, warm hand on my back.

I realize that my hair isn't in my face either because it is being held back. I can hear Grayson's voice telling me that he is here and right next to me.

After I know that I am not going to throw up again, I flush the toilet. I fall back and sit on my butt, leaning against the tub. My legs fold up and I cross my arms, setting my head into my arms. I start sobbing.

I hate being sick more than anything. I hate feeling depressed. I just hate everything right now. 

"You okay now?" I hear Grayson say.

"I want to be," I sob. He doesn't make an attempt to touch me anymore. His hands rest in his lap. 

"I want us to be okay more though. But you constantly talk to Monica anymore. You rarely ever talk to me. I am so fucking sick but it is worse for you to ignore me and hate me than being sick. I would rather be sick for the rest of my life than have to live without you. I hate having to miss you. I hate it so much. I hate not being able to talk to Monica because she hates me. I hate not being able to talk to Ethan because you think that I am sleeping with him. I hate the fact that I am so alone and depressed and you seem to not care. I hate it all," I sob harder. 

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," he says. He stands up and leaves the bathroom without another word, closing the door behind him. 

I'm sorry that you feel that way. 

I might update again tonight if y'all vote and comment enough.

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