Sweet Charlotte

「 nine: chilled bedsides 」

Seth had an 'I-could-care-less' attitude for months at that point. So, why was it that then and there, standing outside of the counsellor's office, he was terrified to go in?

Willow. That was why.

Willow had been taken out of the school fairly quietly given all the chaos in their math class, and apparently mum's was the word as nobody was talking about it. While Seth wanted to believe it was because people were being respectful of how their classmate was embarrassingly carted to the hospital, in reality it was probably because none of them cared for or even really knew her.

But he did, and the guilt had been eating at him all day.

All he'd done for the past week of their tutoring sessions was complaining that she wasn't trying hard enough; that she was a selfish, inconsiderate woman who didn't care about anything or anyone. Watching her collapse onto the floor of their classroom, realizing that the woman he had called lazy and self-centered had been suffering with health issues brought him guilt that was threatening to swallow him whole.

So, he sucked in his gut, swallowed his shaking heartbeat, and went inside. Without missing a beat, and without giving his mind a chance to second guess what he was doing, he wandered into Mrs. Evans' office. "I assume tutoring is off today?"

Glancing up from her computer, Mrs. Evans' eyes settled on the male. It seemed, to him at least, like she was determining what she could and couldn't say. "You'd be correct." She settled on. Her fingers loomed over her keyboard where she'd been typing.

Seth shifted nervously from foot to foot debating his next move. He decided to slam himself into one of the chairs in front of her desk and toss his things onto the other one. "What happened? What's up with her? Why does she bruise?"

Mrs. Evans sat still, watching, before slowly detaching her fingers from the keyboard.

"Why did she pass out? Is she okay? Where is she now?"

Mrs. Evans raised a brow but fought it back down. "I'm afraid I'm not allowed to say," she said, leaning forward on crossed hands. "But what's going on? Why are you so worried?"

Seth blinked, baffled by such a question. He was worried because one of his classmates face planted into the ground and vanished with no explanation — a classmate who he'd yelled at for being selfish and lazy on two separate occasions, and one that he was being tutored by. Deep down, he knew why she was asking. She wasn't asking for the obvious response of 'because she passed out.' She was a counsellor. She wanted the deeper response.

"Because I said some things to her yesterday that I regret after seeing her today."

That made Mrs. Evans raise a brow and keep it there.

He huffed, the irritation building in his chest rising and vanishing. "I told her that she was lazy for not coming to school for so long and said that it seems like she only cares about herself."

Mrs. Evans' expression didn't change. "What prompted that?"

Seth bit his inner cheek. "She was pushing to book more tutoring sessions, I asked why, and she told me that it's good for me because of grades, and that it's good for her because of resume experience." That was all he was going to say. Mrs. Evans didn't need to know about their plans with Charlotte.

Mrs. Evans leaned back in her chair and folded her fingers over each other, settling against her chest. "Well, I can see why you'd like to know what's going on."

Seth nodded, irritated. Obviously. That's why he was there.

Mrs. Evans sighed, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. "Since I'm not allowed to say anything, I suggest you have this conversation with her."