Before I Forget

Shakespeare Sadness

When Sky opened the door to Cody's room, he was sitting on his bed, wearing a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, leaning his back against the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles. He still had bruises on his face, but he looked a lot better than a couple of days ago, and there was a smile on his lips - a wide, happy genuine smile. With a jolt, Sky realized how much she had missed it.

She also realized he wasn't alone.

On the floor next to the bed sat a chubby boy with sandy-colored hair holding a large book in his lap, and on Cody's bed, there were two girls. Both of them were eyeing Sky with a curious look that was anything but friendly. The blond had two long braids as thick as Sky's arm, the other girl had a dark pixie haircut and huge glasses and both of them had the aura of being smart and artsy, the kind of girls who always had paint on their fingers after art class, or a pen stuck behind their ear so that they could write poetry whenever the urge hit them.

"I'm sorry," Sky stammered, frozen in the doorway. "I— I didn't know you had company."

"No, it's okay—" replied Cody, his smile lighting up the room. "Come in."

Sky's cheeks flushed. Suddenly she felt awkward, standing there in the doorway, staring at Cody's smile like a fool, holding the bouquet of pink flowers in her hands. The stupid flowers. She had just wanted to bring some color into his room, something pretty - it was so damn white and lifeless! But now—

Well, the way the girls on Cody's bed were eyeing her, made Sky painfully aware of how this must look like.

Both of the girls snickered and the blond leaned towards the black-haired one, whispering something in her ear, something that earned a smirk from the other girl. Sky's blush deepened.

"You are clearly busy," she said, turning her eyes to Cody. "I'll come back when you're alone."

The girls laughed again and the blond rolled her eyes, but this time Cody reacted.

"Hey, cut it!" he snapped at the girls, glaring at them with an annoyed frown. "What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry," the girl with the glasses said with a tone that told she wasn't sorry at all, if anything, she seemed bored. "But aren't we in the middle of something? Maybe it's best if your girlfriend just left."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Sky cut in before Cody had time to reply. "Not that it's any of your damn business, but I just came to check on him."

Cody leaned forward on the bed, ignoring his companions completely as if the only thing in the world he had eyes for, was Sky.

"We're almost done anyway," he said. "Please, Sky– just stay."

The girls glanced at each other and a short silence followed Cody's words as if he had dropped a bomb in the room.

"Sky?" Said the boy who was sitting on the floor. "Wait— so this is the girl—?"

"You are Sky? Oh my God, you have some nerve coming here—!" exclaimed the dark-haired girl, clearly furious. "It's your fault Cody is in this shape—"

"Jess, stop it!" Cody snapped. "It's not her fault!"

"Yeah, right! So it wasn't her boyfriend who beat the crap out of you?"

"My ex-boyfriend," said Sky, her cheeks heating. "It's hardly my fault that he's a violent asshole - that's why I dumped him. Not that it's any of your business."

She stepped into the room, but not to stay. She didn't even look at Cody's friends as she walked in and snatched the vase that held the flowers she had brought a couple of days ago. Swiftly she made her way to the bathroom, threw the old flowers away, filled the vase with fresh water, and placed the bouquet of pink lilies in it. Her cheeks were still burning and her hands were trembling slightly, she could taste the tears that wanted to break free. What did these girls know about her and Cody and Hawk? They knew nothing. They didn't know the color of Cody's blood on the bathroom floor when she washed his hair, they didn't know the sound of his strangled breathing when the hot water and the shampoo burned in his wounds. They could judge her all they wanted to, but it was nothing compared to how much Sky blamed herself. No matter how many times she came to visit, how many hours she sat on Cody's bed reading a book to him, running her fingers through his soft, dark hair as he rested his head in her lap— none of it mattered. She had messed up. She had brought this on him and she could never make up for it. His friends were right to be angry with her, but still, it hurt.