The Last Virgin Standing

Chapter 42: Game Over

Dedicated to WhenTheStarsAlign for the AMAZING fan art. Seriously, thank you so much. This is so cool. 

Without furthur ado, the final chapter of The Last Virgin Standing.

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Chapter 42: Game Over

I didn't want to leave his side. The Chandlers held each other's hands as they watched their unmoving son lay in the bed, unresponsive to the hysterical cries that were erupting around him. Dad held me in his arms just as he had when I came home from school wondering why my mother had left me. It was just the same except I wasn't wondering why Luke had left me. He didn't leave me. I left him and I wanted to take it all back—the arguments, the empty silences, pushing him away. While I deeply cared for Tyler, I would go back and change it all to get Luke back. He was the best friend any girl could ask for, and I didn't ask for it. He was an angel that I didn't deserve to have watching over me.

His blonde hair was swept over to the right side of his face. His skin was as pale and sickly looking as ever. It was tear-overload when I saw the green veins on his eyelids. His mouth still had color and for the first time in a while, it was still. While the sounds of mourning were drowning the room, I couldn't help but notice the silence. His stupidly reassuring voice wasn't ringing in my ears and his hand was resting comfortably on my shoulder. He wasn't making fun of my movie choices or complaining about my expensive taste in ice cream. I wanted so badly to just hug him and laugh with him one last time before he left, but I couldn't be selfish like I had been. There were more deserving people who deserved to be selfish, and I wasn't one of them.

Dad couldn't be strong for the four of us. He had been lifting the both of us and if he didn't take a break soon, he would collapse under all of the pressure, and I couldn't have that. I would stay strong because if Luke were here looking at all of us crying over him, he would tell us to suck it up and be strong. He would be flattered that we missed him so, but he wouldn't want us to be in pain. He wasn't like that. Vengeance wasn't in his nature. Dad ushered me out of the room so the Chandlers could be alone with Luke. We sat on the bench outside, his hands running through my hair as he whispered, "It'll be okay." It took him longer than normal to choke the words out. I didn't know if he was saying that for my sake or for his.

I was sleep deprived and during that period of no sleep, I realized that death was very selfish. People want to say how much the deceased meant to them before they died, but for what? So the dying would understand that they were loved? It wasn't like it would affect them in the afterlife, if such a thing even existed. They wanted to say something to help them cope when the dying were dead. People expected heartwarming speeches and compliments from the dying to help them feel loved, like Luke had done, when in reality those words should've already been spoken. It was as if people try to get to know the person in the last moments of their lives when they should really be reflecting on their time living. Death was something people should look forward to because they no longer have to deal with death again.

My days felt a little brighter now, but that might've been because I had been spending my time in the hospital, which had warm lighting in the hallways, with Tyler. Arnold was there, but he stepped out to eat or freshen up whenever I came to visit. I wondered what changed because Arnold seemed like a pretty good father from where I was sitting, but that might be because I still had my rose-colored glasses on. I knew I lived in my idealistic world in my head and that I needed to get out, but it was nice in there because happiness was easily obtainable.

Each day after school, I diligently visited Tyler. He was never awake when I was there, but his presence, while still reminding me of Luke, comforted me. I had a lot of memories with Luke there and Dad locked himself up in his room or stuffed his face with toast when he thought I wasn't around. Everywhere I went, it was like a constant reminder of what had happened. It was like an open wound that I kept rubbing dirt in, and while I hated the feeling, I didn't want it to end because I deserved the pain.