The John Hughes Club

Chapter Nineteen

I don't know how I've managed it, but I made it to the very last lesson. Like the actress that I am, I participated a bit in French. Deserving of an Oscar, I suppressed all of the emotions that were morosely roaming around within my teenage self, just so I could learn how to say that I was trying to find the tourist information office and that I liked sushi. Voila! Now I can go home. Pretending to be okay when you're not, is exhausting. Pretending to be strong when you're not, is beyond exhausting. After that History lesson that I'd shared with Ros, she needed me to be strong. She needed to see that I was strong enough to stand up to her and that I'm strong enough to be there for her—should she ever want me to be. Somehow, I think I've done that. However, all that standing up for myself, being strong and pretending that I'm okay, has now totally worn me down. I need to get home.
Unwind.
Cry.
Cry lots.

With my preoccupied thoughts not really letting me pay any attention to who is around me as I'm beginning my sombre journey back home, I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel someone draping their arm around my shoulder. "We need to talk." Although Chas is holding me with affection, his gaze is kind of stern.

I want to talk to him, I like his arm being around my shoulder; but I'm emotionally too drained. "I need to get home, Chas." Offering him a rather pathetic smile, I'm also offering him a rather weak, unsaid apology.

"What happened at lunchtime? What made you leave in such a hurry? Did I do something wrong?" Although he's asking a lot of questions, Chas is quiet and calm as he's asking them—his arm, still around my shoulder.

Regret quickly starts knotting up my insides. When I rushed from the media room, I just needed to get out of there. At the time, I wasn't thinking about Chas. I wasn't thinking about how that would make him feel. I didn't care that I was leaving him behind with a load of worrying thoughts rattling around inside of his brilliant and sensitive head. For that, I'm now feeling bad. "Of course you haven't done anything wrong. I'm just having a bad day. I really am sorry if I've worried you." I tiredly explain.

Coming to an abrupt stop with his walking, Chas positions himself right in front of me. "I know my honesty with you might be upsetting, even annoying...but my honesty always come from a really good place, Mindy." Holding me with both his hands, a little anxiety has now crept into his serious expression. "I know I hit on an exposed nerve about your mum earlier. Upsetting you, was never my intention, never. The only reason why I'm wanting you to enjoy a good relationship with your mother...is because I never got to have that with mine."

My regret welds together with my sudden confusion. "What do you mean?"

The silence lengthens between us, like Chas is trying to find the right words. Hanging his head, he then slowly lifts it back up again; wanting to look me right in the eyes with what he's about to say. "My mum died when I was seven. She and her parents were killed in a car accident. That was the day everything changed for me. One minute my mum was there, the next she wasn't. One minute my dad was a good dad, the next he wasn't." As if heaven's just heard Chas telling me his heartbreaking words, it's now weeping for his tragic losses. In moments, rain is falling on us. In moments, it's getting heavier and heavier. Taking my hand in his, Chas starts running. Together, we're running towards a large Beech tree that's welcoming us to shelter beneath its impressive foliage from the unexpected downpour.

Chest to chest, we're huddled in as close as we can be. With droplets of fresh rain dripping from off my curls, my solemn stare finds the eyes of the boy who knows just as much pain as I do. My brown eyes are seeking his, wanting my gaze to bring him comfort like his so often do for me. "I'm sorry about your mum and your grandparents, Chas." Swallowing the sob that's risen from the depths of my throat, my glassy gaze remains on him. "I did wonder where your mum was, but it was something I knew you'd talk to me about when you were ready." Slipping my hands into both of his front pockets in his trousers, I'm now bringing more of myself against him. "I understand about being ready to tell someone your past, because I'm ready to tell you mine." My eyes stay exactly where they are; on him, somewhere safe. "The reason why I rushed from the media room earlier, was because Ella told me about Ros losing her sister. I too, have lost a sister. Every single day, I re-live the day I lost my sister. Some days I cope living this way, some days I don't...today was one such day." Tears begin blurring my vision, strangling my fragile voice. "Every day, I feel guilty for being the one who gets to live her life, when I'm the reason why Anais never got to live hers." Now, my tears are blinding me. Rigidly, I'm trying to hold myself together long enough, so I can tell Chas about the day that changed the rest of my own life. "My sister tripped on a glass that I'd left on my bedroom floor. That glass, severed her carotid artery. In just moments she was gone, and in those moments, I did nothing." Tears are now heavily rolling down my cheeks, one after the other after the other.