Page 47 of The Story Of Us

“My mum still isn’t talking to me.”

She gives me a sympathetic look as she rubs her hand up and down my arm.

“Have you thought about going home to see her?”

“I don’t know if I can handle her rejection in real life, too.”

“She’s not rejecting you. I think she’s just taking it a lot more personally than you expected. My parents were the same way when I told them, but they got over it quickly once they realised my decision had nothing to do with them or my relationship with them.”

I listen intently to her, taking in everything she’s saying and trying to figure out if it could work with my mum. Going home makes the most sense, and I think having a conversation in person would help a lot more considering I told her the news over the phone.

“You’re right. I’ll go on Friday after school and just try to talk to her.”

“I know you don’t want to hurt her feelings, but you need to think about your own too. I think if you just explain to her that it’s what you want to do and it’s what you think is best for your future, she’ll slowly start to understand. It might not happen right away, but it will eventually.”

I scoot closer to Avery, throwing my arm around her in a strange sideways hug that has us both laughing. We spend the rest of the evening together, going to dinner and then watching a movie in Avery’s room before I retreat to my own to get some rest before classes tomorrow.

18

ISAAC

The past week has felt like the longest, but also shortest, of my life as I’ve spent most of it laid up sick in bed. It had been building for a while, constant headaches and lack of sleep finally knocking me out with a fever that just won’t go away. Luke keeps coming to check on me, letting himself into my room as he always does, so when I hear a knock, it throws me.

I’m groggy, and at first, I think I’m hearing things, but then it happens again, growing a little more frantic, and I groan as I roll off the side of my bed, my necklace getting tangled around my neck and chin. I fix it and clutch my blanket as I shuffle towards the door, every step feeling heavy. The cooling patch Luke put on my forehead earlier is sliding down, nearly covering my eyes completely, but if I lift my hand to move it, I’ll have to let go of my blanket, so I just flick my head back instead.

Big mistake.

I nearly topple backward, my head spinning as I lean on the door to steady myself. The knocking hasn’t stopped, and when I look through the peephole, I think I’m more sick than I realised because now I’m seeing impossible things.

I fling the blanket off my shoulders and throw it behind me towards the bed as I swipe the cooling patch off my forehead. I open the bathroom door to look at myself in the mirror, and it is horrifying. I look like an absolute mess, with dark circles under my eyes, red lines across my cheeks from where I’ve been sleeping a little too hard, and drool down the side of my mouth. I turn the tap on and quickly splash some water on my face, then I straighten up my hoodie, ensuring my necklace is tucked inside as I tug at the neckline and then the hem to sit better. I pull at the bottom of my sweatpants that rode up my calves while I was sleeping, and I glance at myself in the mirror again, deciding this is as human as I’m going to get right now.

The knocking has stopped now, though, and I’m worried she’s left when I hear my name being called. Relief floods through me at the sound of it, but then I remember her cards are still on my wall. I move as fast as I can without falling over to my board and carefully take them all down, placing them in the top drawer of my desk. I go back to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

“Violet.”

“Hi.” The sight of her standing right outside my door is enough to have me feeling light-headed again. I want to reach out and touch her just to make sure she’s real and this isn’t a fever dream.

“What are you doing here?” I clear my throat, my voice hoarse from not being used for so long. She’s standing with her hands behind her back, her long hair tied up with a light pink bow that matches the sweater she’s wearing on top of dark jeans. She looks beautiful as always, and I don’t even want to think about what she’s seeing right now.

“You weren’t in class yesterday. And I texted you, but you didn’t reply.” She pauses for a second before continuing. “And I thought we weren’t going to do that anymore.”

After our conversation last weekend, we started texting again. It’s nowhere near how we used to before, but it’s been enough to keep that little spark of hope alight in my chest. But when I started feeling sick, I completely neglected my phone. The light from it hurt my eyes and made my headaches feel worse, so I didn’t even know she’d been texting me.

“Sorry, I haven’t been feeling well, so I didn’t check my phone.”

“I know.” I give her a puzzled look because I can’t figure out how she would have found out. “Izzy told me. She said she was going to come and see how you are, but I offered to instead.”

The spark gets bigger.

“That’s really kind of you, Violet. Thank you.” I give her a small smile, holding back as much as I can so she can’t see how elated that last sentence made me feel. She could have easily just left it at that, found out that I was sick, and let Izzy be the one to check on me.

But she’s here, and I’m so grateful for her.

“Honestly, she was a little too enthusiastic when I told her.” She lets out a soft laugh, and I shake my head, making a mental note to have a word with Izzy later. “I uhh… I brought this for you.”

She brings her hands around from behind her back, holding a small jar with a spoon clipped to the side. “It’s kheer. I just got back from home, and my mum made it. I usually have it when I’m not feeling too good, so I thought I’d bring you some.”

I start to wonder why she’s already back if she went home, but all thoughts are cleared from my mind when she holds the jar of rice pudding out to me, the warmth of it seeping into my fingertips as I take it from her. She must have heated it before bringing it to me, and I appreciate it so much. Our fingers brush when I take it from her. I don’t think the heat of the jar or my fever is what’s making me feel like I’m on fire right now.

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