Chapter Twenty-Eight

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THE SECOND LOUELLA AND I WALKED BACK INTO COLLEGE, THE WHISPERS STARTED. 

It was clear from the way she curled in on herself, shoulders hunched and eyes wandering from left to right that she was self-conscious. I tried to position myself in front of her and block her from their prying eyes, but it didn't do much. Even though I narrowed my eyes and glared at anyone who dared even open their mouth to her, it only served to ease her nerves a little. 

"I wonder what happened."

"Did you see Milo's face? He looks scary now."

"Is going to jail?"

"Do you think he did something to her?"

"No, I was just talking to him, like two weeks ago. He seemed fine."

"I heard he sent some pictures online."

"Are you sure? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to do that."

Each comment left her cheeks in a fiery red state. Louella averted her eyes towards the ground in shame. She had always hated being the centre of attention, and I knew she couldn't bare to listen to their not-so-quiet murmurs. They pretended to speak low enough to make it seem as though they were taking her feelings into account, but it was loud enough that she could hear. 

Wasn't this exactly what she was afraid of? The hushed whispers, rumours and lies that would be spread? The full story hadn't even been released yet -- all they were basing this off of was a few pictures online. What would happen if they were ever to find out the true story? What kind of bullying would she be suppressed to?

"Do you want to get out of here?" I leaned closer to ask her, "You don't have to listen to this."

Louella immediately shook her head, "No. If I can't handle this, how am I supposed to go to trial?"

For the past few weeks, the weather seemed to reflect the dampening mood of the town. Peeking outside, millions of droplets pelted down from the sky. The wind howled and roared in a dangerously low pitch -- trees shaking from side to side. It demanded to be heard as it rattled and banged against the windows and doors. Each time a bolt of lightening thundered from the sky, Louella would jump in fright, and each time I would tighten my hold on her hand in reassurance.

When I turned my head to sneak a glance at her, I noticed her face was reaching a dangerous shade of white. All colour had dropped from her normally rosy cheeks and her lips were pursed with a stiffness I had never seen on her before. 

"Are you sure you want to stay here?"

She didn't have to try and be strong for everything. It was okay to say something was too much. However, I was afraid that she was going to start repressing herself in order to show to other's that she could do this -- that it didn't affect her as much as they wanted to believe. But didn't she know, it wasn't a weakness to break down? It wasn't a weakness to say you had enough and needed a break. 

It was a strength.

How many people could put their hand up and say that they needed time and a break? How many people could say that they had enough? That they weren't holding it together? That they needed help? That they needed someone else to guide them through a difficult time. 

Louella inhaled a sharp breath, and with a determined expression, nodded. I wasn't sure if she was trying to convince me or herself at that stage.

"Yes. I can do this."

Subtle as they tried to be, everyone had cleared a path for the two of us -- parting ways like the sea. Shameless, they didn't have any problem staring at us with wide and probing eyes, like they were trying to drag the truth out from us. My skin crawled as though a thousands bugs were on top of me and I knew Louella felt the same when she released a violent shudder. It was harder than I thought it would be to keep my face composed and expressionless, and combined with the hammering of my heartbeat and the shaking of my hands, it made it even harder to do so.

With Love, Étienne | ✓Where stories live. Discover now