The Things I've Never Told Lindsey (A Nash Grier Fanfic)

III. Lemons

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

The clock in the corner of the room was like a slow and steady heartbeat.

I stared at the oatmeal-colored walls, and then looked down at the tiled floor. I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear and sat in silence, surrounded by foot-tapping, nail-biting, gum-chewing, anxious strangers.

The therapy group.

When my parents found out about the pregnancy, they practically forced me into the nearest therapist’s office. They were the only people who knew about the baby. Not even Dylan knew, and I wanted to keep it that way. Since I refused to tell anyone else, my parents agreed to send me to a grief counseling meeting so that I could discuss my problems without mentioning the pregnancy. I was obviously super excited; I was being forced to publically grieve alongside other hopelessly lost causes, but somehow feel peachy-keen in the end.

The therapist was running late, so we awkwardly sat in metal folding chairs and filled the air around us with a tangible aura of nervousness and depression.

I took a minute to look around the group. There were seven other people there besides me, and they seemed to be about my age.

            To my right was a girl with dark, brown hair and under-eye circles of the same shade. She was wearing mostly black, but her porcelain skin and fragile posture made her look so delicate. If you were to tap her shoulder, would likely crumble to pieces.

            The same could be said for the rest of the group, really. Everyone had sad, glassy eyes gazing absently at the ground. Except for one boy.

            The boy sitting directly across from me focused his gaze at the ceiling. He had the most electric blue eyes I had ever seen. Despite the obvious symptoms of grieving (under-eye circles, hollowed cheeks, and dark clothes), there was something so undeniably entrancing about him.  It may have been the way his brown hair was messy in just the right way, or how there was still life behind his vibrant-colored eyes, but I could not take my eyes off of him.

            As I stared (probably stalkerishly) across our circle of chairs, an overweight lady in her late forties burst into the room. She stopped to catch her breath, then sat in an empty chair. She looked up, smiled an impossibly happy smile, and introduced herself.

            “Hello, hello, helloooo everyone! My name is Doctor Patricia Perkins, but please darlins, call me Patty. I just want y’all to know that no matter what y’all are goin’ through, I’m here to support you. I’m gonna be your new bestest friend,” she said with a peppy wink.

            I almost barfed.

            She continued. “When I was fourteen, my mother died from breast cancer. Two years later, my older sister committed suicide,” she said solemnly. “Those were some mighty sour lemons that life gave me, but you can bet I turned those lemons into some sweet lemonade. I began studying psychology and sociology, and now here I am, helpin’ y’all turn your personal lemons into lemonade! Or lemon squares, if you prefer.” She proceeded to laugh at her joke as we uncomfortably watched.

            “Anyway, I introduced myself, and now I’d like y’all to introduce yourselves. Let’s start...um, how about you, dear?” she asked, pointing at me.

            I hesitantly stood up. “Um, I’m Savannah,” I said, nervously twirling my long, blonde hair between my fingers. “Savannah Brentwood.”

            “Alrighty, then, Savannah. Can you share with the group why you’ve decided to join us?”

            I cast my gaze to the floor. “I’m here because, um, my best friend passed away last month.” I couldn’t say ‘Michelle’, and I really couldn’t say ‘died’; especially not together in the same sentence.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. How’d she die?”

I killed her, I thought. She’s dead because I’m a horrible person. Stupid. Careless. Reckless.  

“Car crash” was the most I could say.

I sat back down and listened to everyone else reveal their story. The girl on my right lost her sister to cancer, the boy next to her witnessed his father die of a stroke, and the boy next to him lost his cousin and aunt in a drive-by shooting. Finally, it was the blue-eyed boy’s turn.

He slowly stood up, raising his eyes from the floor. He fixed his gaze straight in front of him, directly at me.

“My name is Nash,” he said quietly. “I’m here because...” he trailed off, eyes drifting back to the floor. “I’m here because my brother, Will...he, um...he committed suicide.” I watched misery overcome his gentle features as he silently took his seat.

The rest of the circle introduced themselves, but I couldn’t bring myself to pay attention. I tried discreetly stealing glances at Nash, but quickly looked away as my gazes were met by his chilling aqua eyes.

Once everyone was finished, Patty stood up.

            “Thank you, everyone. Even though we’ve all just met, I can feel a bond formin’ already!” she grinned. “Now, we’re going to move on to a partner exercise. Y’all can arrange yourselves into groups of two.”

            Everyone stood up, and I was overcome by unbearable discomfort. I had no idea who anyone was, how was I supposed to find a partner?

            Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and my gaze was met by a flash of stunning cobalt.  Nash.

            “Hey, Savannah, right?” he asked with a slight grin. I smiled and nodded.

            “I was wondering if you’d want to be my partner,” he asked, looking down at the floor.

            I didn’t realize it then, but those words would change my life. 

___________________________________________________________________

Howdy. 

I spy a Nash Grier ;D See, I told you he'd be here. Whoa, that rhymed. 

Anyway, have a fantastic day. (Nashtastic? No. Nope. No. That worked a lot better in my head.)

xxCharlotte