Heartbroken

Chapter 2: Milo

            I examined Allegra as the nurse bandaged her arm. She kept her eyes on her arm, as if she was uncomfortable. The nurse spread neosporin on the wound, which contained a high percentage of neomycin sulfate.

I looked down at her arm, confused at how she would get something so large and jagged from something in the cafeteria. There's not much in the lunchroom that could do that kind of damage, and judging by the redness around the wound, she has had it for more than just today. And the bruise on her face was something else entirely. I watched as Allegra rejected a bag of ice for her face, though I could tell that it pained her smile. I narrowed my eyes.

The nurse finished her job, and Allegra stood up, turning to thank her. The soles of her shoes compressed, the converse seeming to be well-worn. I uncrossed my legs and followed Allegra out the door.

We walked next to each other in silence, and I wasn't sure where we were going. As I looked at the walls, facts rushed into my head about the age of each brick and each painting. I shoved them out of my head and opened my mouth, trying to think of something to say, fiddling with a small marble inside my pocket. The intercom crackled to life, and a bored voice reverberated through the halls.

"Allegra Contessa, please come to the office. Allegra Contessa, please come to the office."

We stopped, and she turned around, walking back the way we came. I glanced at a picture on the wall that was six years old and ran into Allegra.

"Sorry," I muttered, embarrassed.

"Are you going to follow me everywhere?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips, reaching her eyes before her cheeks. I looked down again.

"I thought that you enjoyed my company,"

She laughed. "Did I ever say that?"

I think for a moment. "No, but you thought it."

She stared at me, apparently considering how she should react. I immediately slapped myself mentally in my head. Of course my bluntness would show at the most inopportune of times.

"Well, there's no getting rid of you now,"

We fell silent again as we made our way back to the office, and I don't think that either of us had any intention of starting a conversation.

We arrived back at the office, and I stood back as Allegra talked to the girl behind the counter. I looked at the walls of the room, their old red and brown bricks reminding me of dried blood. Of my mother. Before I could stop myself, my brain showed me the images that I didn't want to see.

A small tanned, paper. A certificate of death. Rose Mclellan Chans died on September the 18th, at 6:52 am, it read. Next to the printed letters was a picture of my mother, her smiling face unable to project the sorrow of the event.

I shook my head and the image disappeared, but the feelings never faded.

I looked back at Allegra, who had actually passed me, and I couldn't help but smell her. Lavandula. More commonly known as Lavender.

Thankfully the smell kept me in reality just a little bit more. She glanced at me over her shoulder.

"My sister just threw up down at the elementary. I'll see you around." she turned to leave.

"Hey, wait," I said, grabbing her uninjured arm before I could stop myself. She flinched. I let go. "The elementary is two miles from here. It won't do you any good to walk."