The Beginning of the End (Editing)

Twenty Six : Fuck Everything

Last night I was punching Harry in the face at the beach, this morning I went to school, and now I'm sitting at Eleanor's bedside watching the green line on her heart monitor perform it's rise and fall. Just like the slow rise and fall in her chest. Barely there, but still there.

Just hanging on.

Going to school felt refreshing in a weird, poisonous way. Like when you're parked at a gas station and can't help but enjoy the smell of the gasoline pumping into your car, and you kinda get a little high? Like that. But instead of smelling gasoline, it smelt of cheap perfume and cologne so strong that it could give anyone a headache, all to not smell like hormones and infections wherever they may be.

Had I missed it? No. Will I be going back tomorrow? Also no. But at least it was more tolerable than what it was when I was last at school, whenever that was.

Anything is a better distraction than being sad about everything wrong with my life, which really is everything. But being around almost everyone I hate at one time draws my focus away from that and more towards how much I hate everything else.

I didn't see Mike or Taylor, and honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they dropped out because that's just the type of people they are. They don't care about themselves, they never have. Even though their parent's would drop themselves to get their kids into Harvard, they have probably thrown that all away.

But I did see Mister Walker in English, and although I wasn't paying much attention I did notice that he was looking at me a lot. I sat and waited for him to declare my presence in the class for the first time in god-knows how long, but he didn't. He just taught his lesson, and stared at me sitting at the back of the class by the window.

He stared and stared and I wasn't even looking at him to notice, but I felt it, and I knew he'd hold me back after class to talk about it. And just as I thought he would, he did. Just as well I had Biology afterwards, I would've skipped it anyways.

He dismissed the class just before the bell sounded, but called my name and drew my attention to his index finger gesturing me towards him. Although it looked creepy, it's Mister Walker. He's not creepy.

"Hey Mister Walker-

"Sit." He bluntly states, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. I sit in at the seat in front of his desk, and wait.

"Have you read the novel I gave you yet?" He questions and begins to sway back and forth in his seat.

Shit. I forgot about that thing completely, I don't even know where it is? How the fuck could I have forgotten about something like that? I nervously smile, then look down at the ground thinking about when he described his friend who wrote the book. I remember how it reminded me of El and I in a way, and then I remember reading a few chapters and feeling a part of it as well. Fuck I'm an idiot for losing it.

"I haven't really had the time, if I'm honest," I anxiously exhale a large breath as I bluntly lie to his face. I think he knows I'm lying too. I mean, I haven't really had the best attendance for the past few months I guess, so I really should have all the time in the world to be reading.

"About Miss Lilliman, Mister Thomson," He begins as he stands up, walking to the front of his desk before sitting down on it. "I know you two were very close," He sighs, and in his eyes I see sternness shift to pity. My stomach drops, do teachers really notice this kind of stuff? Even so, I don't want your fucking pity, Mister Walker.

"Can we not talk about tha-

"Kyle, we keep in contact with Eleanor's aunt to know how she's coming along. She tells us how often you visit," His voice is almost steely, but his expression is soft. He exhales and looks out the window as if in defeat, then looks back down toward me. He looks sad, not for me though. He just looks sad and I want to know why.

"She told me that one night you were in there, and she stayed outside the window watching you. And you were crying, holding Eleanor's hand as if you were trying to warm the life back into her while she was sleeping," He continues, and grievously I nod.

That was one of the days I spent trying to jog her memory. I showed her the picture she drew of me when we were younger on the day we met, and I told her how much she liked art. I went home at about lunch so they could do more tests, but then I went back engulfed in anger because of what Lochie said about El. She asked what love was, and I gave her my answer to which she struggled to type, and her response was "So you're my boyfriend?". I remember struggling to take that in, and I told her that I wasn't and she seemed so disappointed. She wouldn't type anything after that, and soon she fell asleep. That's when Hannah was watching me... I didn't even realize.

"You and I are alike you know, but at least you have the time to adjust to her," He gloomily lets out a heavy breath while looking towards the tiled floors. "With Grace, I didn't get that chance. She was there one day, but gone the next without so much as a warning sign." I watch as tears muster at the rim of his eyes, but he immediately blinks them away.

"Please just make the most of the time you have with her okay? I can talk to staff about extending your work dates and things like that, because I know how much she means to you, Mister Thomas," He gives me a weak smile, and I try to respond likewise. But I slowly feel tears rise in my eyes as well, Mister Walker notices.

"I just want her to be better, Mister Walker," I let out a weak hiccup as tears begin to spill.

I don't know how to make the most of my time with Eleanor if she can't even move, or speak, or even open her eyes. I don't even want the concept of making the most of my time with her to even be a thing. Why is he even saying that kind of shit to me anyway?

"Kyle," I look up to see pitiful eyes once again, and I can't help but feel angry because of it.

"What!" I yell and my voice echoes in this empty classroom. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole hall heard, but quite frankly I don't care. I don't want anyone talking about Eleanor like she's already one foot in the fucking grave.

"I wish you enough, Kyle." He mutters sadly, then stands up and sits back behind his desk.

I feel like my heart stops for a brief moment as my head takes me to the night I was shit-faced drunk, trying to coerce Eleanor into being satisfied with where she was in love. I was unsure when I told her, but she wished me enough just like Mister Walker just did. And it kills me to think that we've come here. She was never able to feel enough. She was just used and abused time and time again and was never even given the fucking opportunity to be enough.

"Fuck!" My voice booms as I punch the edge of the desk.

Almost on cue, my phone begins to buzz in my pocket but I ignore it. I don't have the time for anything at the moment.

Fuck everything.

"I'll dismiss you for the day, Kyle." Mister Walker looks at me with that fucking pity again and without a word I storm out.

Fuck everything.

But now I'm here, at Eleanor's bedside thinking those exact words. To think that before last night, I thought that the feelings I had for her weren't mutual. But I was wrong.

She loved me.

But she's here.

So fuck everything, right?