Page 59 of Rewriting the Story

Tears flood my eyes as I think about what I thought were my last moments on the planet before Paige’s voice comes through my mind.

“What can I do to help? Do you need anything? Just tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it.”

“Henry. I need Henry.” The words come out before I can stop them.

“Okay. I can call him. Where’s your phone?” I point her towards the couch where I think they threw it, and Paige excuses herself before Ella grabs me a glass of water. Hads throws a blanket over top of me, and even though I’m still shivering, the gesture is nice.

Oliver eventually stitches my head up, and I’m still floating through these conversations, feeling like I want to lay down forever. I knowthey’re probably not going to let me sleep in case I have a concussion, though.

I need Henry to get here. I need a tether or something to carry me through this. That’s the one thing I knew I needed when Paige asked me. Sure, I’m grateful for the people already around me, but Henry has always been the one person who brings me back to Earth. His presence has always felt different to me. I knew it when I first met him at that concert, and I knew it when I ran into him on campus after the fact.

He’s always been around, in our own weird way, and even though we’re not dating, I need him. At this moment, I’m choosing to run toward him instead of keeping him at an arm's length. Suddenly, I regret not having been with him this entire time. I could have died tonight, and it’s hitting me that my biggest regret would have been not being loved by someone.

I would have died alone, physically and mentally, because I never allowed anyone to get close enough to see who I am underneath all the jokes and dry humor. I would have died tonight, never having been loved, never having felt it from another person.

I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep running away from these emotions that terrify me just because I’ve always assumed I was better off alone. Nobody is better off alone, and of course, I can be loved despite all my flaws. Those are what make me who I am.

Maybe I deserve love. Maybe I am the type of person who people drop anything for when I need them.

I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize this. I can’t believe almost dying is what it took for me to finally believe I am a person capable of feeling true, unconditional, stupid, dumb love.

“Paige, where is she?” I hear the voice of the person I need most, and as soon as he locks eyes with me, he takes a few steps, stops, and takes me in. I’ve never seen him look so disheveled before, so panicked and worried. He’s always been so calm, always so go-with-the-flow, but seeinghim panicked like this at the thought of me being hurt? God, that’s unraveling me too.

It seems he needs me just as much as I seem to need him.

My legs weaken, and I stretch them out in front of me. That somehow shakes him out of whatever haze he was in before he comes over to me and runs his hands all over my body. When he opens his mouth, he can barely speak.

He takes one look at the stitches on my head before his eyes finally latch on to mine. “Who the fuck did this to you, Amelia?”

“I-I don’t know, Hen,” I say, the shaking in my body calming down now that he’s here. “Thank you for getting here.”

His gaze flies all over my shriveled up form, as if he’s scared I’m going to disappear under his touch. “I brought my headphones, and I have some snacks in my pocket, tissues too. I didn't know what happened, so I just grabbed what I could hold.”

“Henry—”

“I figured music would help, but when Paige called me, I was so fucking scared, Ames. She didn't tell me what happened, but her voice was so defeated, and my mind jumped to the worst of the worst. I should have come over tonight. I should have been here studying with you, and—”

“Henry—” He stares into my eyes, searching for an answer, but I know he can’t find one. “Will you just hold me?”

His eyes soften, a smile overtaking his face as he settles in next to me. I lean my head on his shoulder as his arms wrap around me. All our friends are gone, most likely outside giving us a minute, and I appreciate that.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened yet, but whenever you decide to, just know I’ll be here for you, Mills.”

I know, Hen. “Can you play that song you showed me the other day?”

I’m not good at talking, and Henry knows that. Music has always been my favorite way of explaining my emotions. For some reason, I’ve neverbeen able to articulate things how my favorite lyrics can. In this moment, I need to remember something good. In this moment, I want to live in a good memory instead of the one from earlier tonight.

The other day, I went to Henry’s place, and when I opened the door, he was standing right in front of me, smiling from ear to ear. I have to admit, I was a little nervous, but when he sat me down, gave me a headphone, and pressed play, I knew why he was so happy.

For months, all I’ve done is show him new songs and artists he had never heard of, but this time, it was the opposite. He found a song I had never heard, and he was so excited to play it for me.

He hit the nail on the head. It was everything I loved about music. The production was dreamy, the lyrics were beautiful yet haunting, and all night, we sat there with our headphones in and did a deep dive into the artist’s discography.

It was one of the best nights of my life, and I know if I hear the song again, it will take me right back to one of my happiest memories. I fell asleep on his couch and woke up covered in a blanket, wrapped in his arms.

He squeezes me a little harder before grabbing one headphone and softly placing it in my ear, and I do the same for him as the music filters through our ears at the same time.

In the dark of my messed up apartment after the worst night of my life, I feel safe. Here in his arms, it’s impossible not to feel that way. As the music floats between us, I cry. I cry so hard, I can barely think straight. I let out all the fear, all the sadness, all the terrifying emotions I felt in the past hour into his chest.

---