Page 13 of Unspoken Words
Before I could apologise, she got to her feet. “You know what?” she said, brushing the dirt from her skirt. “It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know him. Friends want friends to laugh, and if they don’t want that, they’re not good friends.” Ellie turned away but then paused. “I’m guessing Aaron was a good friend.” She took a few more steps and paused again. “And you should join a band. You’re very talented. I love the sound of your voice.”
A little lost for words, I watched as she walked away, until the crunch of gravel and leaves under her feet were no longer loud enough for me to hear, which was when I closed my eyes and cursed myself for the millionth time since Aaron’s death.Connor, you idiot.My fingers gripped the neck of my guitar, and I was seconds away from smashing it against the ground or throwing it into the river when Ellie’s words once again thundered through my head.Hold on. Always.
“I don’t want to hold on. I don’t want to do this anymore,” I said, my teeth gritting, a sob ripping through me.
Thoughts of Aaron equalled pain and anger and me lashing out and hurting people I didn’t want to hurt. They equalled a Connor I didn’t like; a Connor I didn’t want to be, and I felt helpless to stop that.
Opening my eyes, I let my tears trail down my face, warm, wet, and rushed. I let them soak my cheeks; let them drown me in the moment. I hadn’t properly cried since finding out Aaron’s cancer was the bad type, the type you couldn’t survive, the type that murdered you no matter how hard you fought it to stay alive. I hadn’t cried when he lost his hair, when he stopped playing ball and going to school … when he stopped breathing. I hadn’t let myself let him go.
Until now.
He’s really gone.
Sliding down the rock I was sitting on, I hugged my knees to my chest, my guitar falling to the ground beside me. It landed next to the pattern Ellie had made in the dirt—a smiley face.
I kicked it and cried some more.
I cried all the tears I hadn’t.
I cried all the tears I could.
Chapter Five
Ellie
For the rest of theday, Connor was a ghost; his presence felt but unseen. I wanted to seek him out and see if he was okay, but I didn’t. If he wanted my company, he’d ask me for it, or at least give me a sign that it was welcome. After he’d snapped at me by the river, I wasn’t sure that it was.
He was hurting; I got that. I’d be hurting too if any of my friends died. I just wished he’d talk about it and use his words. Words were helpful. Important. They were one of the ways our minds and bodies released. Connor needed to release. My guess was that he needed to let go of the emotions that were building inside him before they escaped in a way he couldn’t control. But then … what would I know? I’d never lost my best friend. I’d never known what it felt like to grieve.
“I’m drying,” my butthead brother stated, snapping me from my thoughts.
I unsuccessfully attempted to snatch the tea towel from him, growling, “No, you’re not.”
He held the cloth high above my head. “Oh yeah? And how are you going to dry without this?”
“Dad said I dry and you wash.”
“Dad isn’t here.”
I poked my head out of our annex in search of my father’s brown hair. “DAD!”
“Waste of time,” Chris taunted.
I turned back and glared at him. “Where is he?”
“Nature dump.” Chris twirled the cloth like the rotor of a helicopter blade. “And just so you know, he took his class planner. He’s gonna be a while.”
“MUM!” I shouted, anger boiling in my blood.
“She’s gone for a walk with Mrs Bourke.”
“ARGH!” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well … you can’t dry if I don’t wash, and I’mnotwashing. Dad saidyouhad to. I’ll just wait until he gets back.”
Chris screwed up the tea towel and threw it at my face. “Fine. Baby. I’ll wash.”
I beamed a ‘suck it, loser’ smile.
“You won’t be smiling like that for long, Elliephant.”
