Page 31 of Mind

“What are you doing here? It’s not your turn to babysit,” Bree says, disdain clearly evident in her tone.

Entering the room, I take in its cheery appearance. Flowers cover every surface, tickling my nose with their sweet scent. It’s a direct contrast to the unmoving man lying in the hospital bed and the irate woman at his side, clutching his hand. Bree is flushed with anger. Her skin has reddened, her mouth is in a heavy scowl and her eyes are shooting daggers. One of her petite hands is clenched so tight into the thick blanket covering Phillip that it almost glows white.

“Bree, seriously?” I shake my head and place my hand on Phillip’s thigh, wanting him to feel my presence. She smacks my hand off him so quickly I stumble back.

“Don’t fucking touch him! Everything you touch turns to shit!”

Whoa! I knew she was upset, positively broken-hearted after receiving that note, but I had no idea when I came today I would be dealing with a stranger. This isnotmy soul sister, my Bree. She’s not herself. “That is not fair, Bree, and you know it.” I try speaking softly, hoping to express the deep sadness that fills me.

“Fair? You want to talk about fair?” She stands and swipes a hand through her messy blonde hair. Usually, it’s a perfect golden blanket down her back. Right now it’s scraggily, possibly even unwashed, definitely having seen a thousand better days. “You’re standing here, and Phillip’s lying there. Is that fair, Gigi?”

“You don’t mean that.” Fear, guilt, and shame, my three ugly friends, creep into my subconscious.

Bree’s normally warm blue eyes, ice over and narrow. “Don’t I? Phillip is lying here in a coma because of you. Because some fucking man wants to hurt you!” I gasp, but she continues with her verbal assault, striking while the iron is nice and hot. “Did it work? Are you hurting?”

Tears slip down my cheeks. I let them fall. “Yes,” I choke out.

“It’s not enough is it? He won’t stop. Who’s next, Gigi? Anabelle?” She stabs that verbal knife so far into my heart I clutch my chest and slam into the wall behind me. The tears race to the surface and spill over my cheeks as I crouch down low and hug my knees. Not Anabelle. Not my sweet angel baby. Images flash across my mind. Her adorably round face, eyes as blue as an unclouded sky on a sunny day, and her blonde curls bobbing along as she sings one of her many songs. My goddaughter.

Bree is now crouched in front of me. We’ve never been this close and not touched one another in some fashion, a small pat, a friendly gesture, something. Right now Bree’s hate is all I feel. It’s like a physical blanket, coating my tortured mind with more guilt.

“I’ll give myself up. I’ll let him take me,” I say through my tears. “I will. He can have me. I would never wish this on any of you. Not Phil, not my sweet baby girl, no one!” I say with as much conviction as possible. The idea has taken root as I watch Bree’s face crumble. She looks at me as if she’s never seen me before.

“Over my dead body,” I hear come from the door. Kat is holding a colorful array of fresh flowers. Her eyes assess both Bree and me. She sets the flowers on the one open spot on the side table. She comes around, her long maxi skirt flowing with her movements. The ocean. Everything she’s wearing is blue, indigo, aquamarine, and green. The fabric sways in soft swooshes as she stands in front of us, her hands on her hips. Peace. I close my eyes; they’re too full of tears to keep them open. Instead, I let the calm waves of her presence cool the overheated emotions within, like a wet towel over an open flame.

Bree stands abruptly. “Be careful, Kat. That just could happen.” Sorrow rips through me again as Bree makes her way to Phil and slides a hand down his face from temple to chin.

“Come here,” Kat holds out her arms to me and I stand weakly then crumble into her. She pets my hair, soothes a hand down my back, hugging me tightly until I calm down. She pulls away, a hand still in my hair, one holding my bicep. “This. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” She says it then puts her head against my forehead. Our eyes lock. Carmel to green. “You hear me?” I nod. “Good. Now, there will be no sacrificing ourselves to wackos. We’re in this together,” Kat shakes her head up and down until she’s got me mimicking her “yes” gesture.

“What are we in together?” Maria says as she walks in, tripping over her own feet. She leans heavily against the wall, catching herself before she falls. I take a deep breath and pull back from Kat’s arms, wiping the errant tears away. Bree is standing with her arms crossed and a hip cocked. “Wha’d I miss?”

“I’m surprised you made it here alive,” Bree says in a haughty tone. I’m not even sure I know this woman. Bree has never spoken to anyone with such malice before.

“Discúlpeme?What’s she talking about?” Maria asks while entering the room and setting her rehearsal bag down on floor. She’s wearing her standard dancing gear, black workout leggings and a loose jersey shirt over her sports bra. Probably stopping in before she’s due at the theatre.

I can’t respond, the sadness swallowing my ability to form words. Bree doesn’t hesitate. “Well, the odds of any of us surviving, until Gigi’s stalker can be found, are slim to none. Tell them about the note,” she grates. Her head tips to the side as she looks at me, fear controlling her tongue. I stand mute not capable of speech. She continues undaunted. “The stalker left a note a few days ago, right here on Phillip’s bed.” She points to the foot of the hospital bed. “Admitted to being the one to plant the bomb in the gym and then insinuated that someone was next!” Her pretty eyes narrow.

Kat gasps placing a hand over her mouth. Maria’s form tightens, her spine becomes straight as an arrow, hands clenching at her sides. “I cannot wait to get mymanoson this psycho.” She inhales audibly. “¡Está muerto!” He’s dead, she pronounces.

“No, the last thing we need is for you to go crazy, Ria. Bree’s right; this is my fault. Whoever it is, wants me. Even though Chase and Tommy are working to find him, it feels useless. Everything is turning to shit. Just like Bree said! I should just let him take me!” I wave my hands in the air like a deranged person. I’m actually starting to feel deranged. Looks like I’ll be needing double the amount of visits to Dr. Madison in the very near future.

“You will do no such thing! That’s crazy talk, Gigi. You can’t put yourself in harm’s way to protect us. He could kill you! Then what would we have. A dead best friend,” Kat’s voice is layered with emotion but she’s valiantly holding it together. I wish I were as strong as she is right now.

Maria comes over to me and hugs me tight. I can see Bree cringe and look away. How could this happen? This freak is breaking me apart, shredding the lives of everyone that I love around me. Something has to be done. The idea of planting myself somewhere the stalker can get to me is growing, ready to bloom as a plan starts to form. I could do it. Save my friends, Chase, little Anabelle. Then no one would be hurt again.

“I can hear you thinking,Cara Bonita. You arenotdoing this. No matter what.¿Me escuchas?You hear me? Don’t you dare, throw yourself in front of thislocofucker!” Maria cups my cheeks and waits for me to nod. Her ice blue eyes are hard, unyielding. It reminds me of Chase when he’s in a “non-negotiable” mood. Chase. I need Chase.

Bree huffs, “It’s not a bad idea, using her as bait. The freak will surely come for hispreciousprize,” her words lash out, as painful as a whip, splitting me open, cutting right into my heart.

Kat bristles at Bree’s words hugging her body. Ria turns around and faces our soul sister. “What the fuck is your problem? Are you seriously suggesting Gigi, ourhermana, risk death as punishment forPhillipeor just to save yourself!”

Bree’s eyes fill with tears. It’s the first time since I arrived that I’ve seen a shred of the real Bree. The woman I would throw myself in front of a speeding train to save. Her shoulders slump down, her upper body caving in. She looks down, completely defeated.

Unfortunately, Maria does not pick up on Bree’s distress. “Did you get a hit to thecabeza? Are youloco?” she continues undaunted.

Bree’s shoulders quake, her entire body rattles as she holds herself up against the back of the hospital chair. “I’m sorry, Gigi, I don’t know…” she starts, tears spilling down her cheeks as her eyes meet mine. The apology is clear in her gaze. She is devastated. “I didn’t mean it, Oh my god, what have I done!” her voice cracks. I run over to her and pull her into my arms, holding her so tight I may actually bruise her. She doesn’t seem to care, sobbing into the crook of my neck, letting three weeks of pain out, in a tidal wave of loss. Anguish pours from her, a palpable thing, as I hold her.

“I’m not c-crazy,” Bree chokes out against my hair, wiping her tears and her snotty nose along my shoulder. I welcome it. Anything that will give her a moment’s respite from the fear and uncertainty plaguing us all. Especially Bree, who probably doesn’t even realize she’s completely fallen in love with Phillip. Right now, she needs to find her center.

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