Chapter Twenty Eight.Crisp Air.
Song for this chapter: The Neighborhood-Sweater Weather.
The leaves of the trees stood tall in front of us were turning all shades of brown, red, yellow and orange. I could definitely say I felt a change in the weather since last week, it was Fall. Summer was now gone and honestly it was never really here to begin with. Here in this small town we never had a beach, the weather was as bipolar as me some days. Hot one day, as cold as ice the next. It was always unexpected, so you could say there definitely was a decline for inflatable pools the passed few months.
I had told him everything bar one and since then he hasn’t spoken a word. I don’t know if he’s in a state of shock or if he just can’t find the right words to say. But I know I wasn’t going to be the first one to speak up, for no reason whats so ever other than the fact that I know he will speak when he come to grasps with everything and wraps his mind around that everything he thought he knew the passed few years wasn’t the truth.
I knew how he felt.
I knew that when I was told everything about me and Blake’s past and when I was told I had suffered a head injury due to a crash crash resulting in my fathers death I would have liked a shoulder to lean on and for someone to actually know what I had been through.
Grayson was my shoulder to lean on, he was my support mechanism. But he didn’t get what I had been through. We both have been through so much, but never the same. I had lost my Father and he had lost his girlfriend. Those are two completely different type of loves.
And the only difference was that one of those people actually wanted to be on this earth longer.
The only real person who knew what I was going through and was able to walk in my shoes was Blake, I knew I needed him when I was told about everything that has changed my life forever. So I need to do what I would have wanted, I need to be there for Blake.
″Do you think you’ll ever remember anything again?″ Blake asked. His voice was solemn, low, desperate for answers. He was fumbling with his fingers, but his face was straight forward daydreaming into the nothingness.
Signs that a boy is stressed/anxious.
1. He’s running his hands through his hair.
2. He’s biting the skin on his thumb.
3. He’s fumbling with his fingers.
4. He’s day dreaming into the nothingness also known as the sky.
Warning! If two or more of these occur, give the guy a comforting hug ,no matter how much he protests. He needs it.
Right now that’s exactly what Blake needed. I stood myself up without saying a word, placing out my hand for Blake to take. He looked confused at first but complied and took my hand in his and pulled himself up.
″Whe-″ I cut him off and embraced him into a tight hug, my head leaning on his chest. Unlike Grayson, he didn’t smell like pine trees and cotton but spices and vanilla. It was comforting, his smell felt like home.
He hugged me back leaning his head on the top of mine. ″You’re not going to remember anything, are you?″ He admitted, sadly. I could tell he wanted me badly to just miraculously recover and remember everything in a quick flash like that’s so Raven. But I wouldn’t.
I wanted to remember too, I badly did and not just for Blake’s sake. I wanted to be able to remember my life when it was average not how it is now. Sure I remember bits of my past but it isn’t vivid and it takes someone actually talking about it for me to remember it clearly.
I just wanted to be normal, just for a day.
I felt as if the cold, crisp Fall air was circulating around in my brain. My thoughts had been cut off by Blake’s quietness.The hair on my arms stood up, my cheeks feeling pale and frosty. It was moments like these where I wanted to be wrapped in a blanket in the comfort of my own bed with a mug of hot chocolate, a classic Halloween movie playing like Hocus Pocus or Halloween town.
But I wasn’t there, I was here. I needed to stop my mind from floating to different places and stick in this moment in time.
″I’m sorry″ I whispered out, my voice muffled by Blake’s top.
I was sorry. I was sorry for not remembering anything, I was sorry for abounding him when he needed me most, I was sorry for forgetting him.
For forgetting us.
But, I was mostly sorry for knowing the fact that I may never remember us and our past.
″It’s okay, Libby″ Blake sighed, pulling out of our hug. His striking blue eyes looked down into my grey ones, ″You may never remember us, but I want to work on this. I want to be friends again. That is if you want to?″.
He looked at me with his eyes, hopeful that I would say yes. It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t joke around a bit.
″I’m sorry, Blake″ I spoke, his hopeful smile dropped off his face within the second, his eyes deteriorating of any chance of us being friends again. ″I wish I never forgot about you, but I don’t think we can be friends again. I mean I want to, I really do. But it’s too stressful to try live up to the person I once was. Because I’m not the Libby you once knew, I’m someone new. And I don’t want to ruin any of your expectations. Because I know I won’t live up to them″.
He took a step back away from me, his eyes drooping to the ground. He dug his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants. ″I should get going″ He admitted, walking over to the edge of the roof where the ladder was located.
I jogged up to him pulling him back but his arm, he looked at me quizzically. ″You know I actually think I might take up drama school″.
He furrowed his brows, the wind blowing his hair all over the place. ″What are you talking about?″ He asked in a sigh. His patience running low.
″I was just fucking with you, Blake″ I laughed, not being able to control myself since I had been struggling to keep them in since I started the little ‘joke’.
His face became stern, his jaw clenched. ″Libby″ He huffed, ″Did I ever tell you I hate you?″.
I put my finger to my chin, looking up at the mint frosty sky, ″Hm, now that I think about it. You haven’t″ I shrugged.
He shook his head, a small boyish smile playing on his lips, ″As much as I don’t want to go back, it’s getting late and I don’t need Mr.Rowly up my ass″.
Larry Rowly was our principle. He was old and crabby and was like a walking talking human version of Squidward from Spongebob. He had to be at least seventy, his hair was nothing but greyness, wrinkles covered his stern face. I think he got a kick out of making students lives miserable, the more they cry the more he smiles. Sardonic really.
I nodded my head, agreeing with him. The last thing I want and need is for Mr. Rowly to give me another detention slip. I was on my last warning by now and I couldn’t risk the chance of getting suspended when I just have a few months left before I drop out and become a stripper.
But then again, strippers do get a ton of money if you’re working at the right place....
I really should think over my life plan. I need one to begin with, but I never really was someone to have a five or ten year plan. I don’t want my expectations ruined, so it’s best to just live life to the fullest and take each moving day at a time.
It took nearly ten minutes for Blake to come down from the ladder. I had to joke around again and tell him I would shake the ladder if he didn’t hurry up. It worked.
″You really are evil, Libby″ Blake accused, I mocked a look of hurt.
″And you’re only figuring that out now?″.
He paused, taking it in. ″No, I think I knew from the moment you stole my peanut butter sandwich when you were six″.
″Wow, I really am evil. Maleficent ain’t got nothing on me″ I chuckled, him joining in on my laugh.
″You should know not to take a mans food, Libby″ He tapped my nose, making me scrunch up my face. He froze when I did that, his eyes looking deeply into mine making me smile uncomfortably.
″What?″ I questioned as we just reached my locker. I opened my locker swiftly getting out the books I need for the last three periods.
He shook his head brushing off my question, securing his bag on his left shoulder. The bell rung just as I shut my locker closed. Saved by the bell?
I had English next, I didn’t really mind that since we were doing the Great Gatsby and currently watching the movie on it. Leonardo DiCaprio wasn’t too bad on the eye.
We both said our goodbyes to each other, he had Maths now. Sucka. I turned around in the direction to end of the hall to make my way to my English class before I was pulled back by a strong arm.
I turned around so quickly with fright, I’m sure to have whiplash tomorrow. Blake stood there behind me, a smirk on his face.
″Yes?″ I questioned, hesitantly, my brows furrowed. ″If you left something on the roof-″.
He placed his big hand over my mouth, earning a few stares from teenagers brushing past us to get to their classes.
″You haven’t changed, Libby″.
And with that, he walked off getting lost in the herd of people in the hallway. Leaving me wordless.