Chapter Eight

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^Spencer's room, but picture music posters and basketball items. 

He couldn't have gotten that far. I know he has the legs of a giraffe but there were only so many places in this cemetery. I jogged down the cemetery path hoping to see him. It was a good thing I wore an oversized solid purple t-shirt and jeans with converse; thank goodness I wasn't in heels. I slowed as I got closer to the fence of the main entrance. He wouldn't have left would he? I spin around looking for any kind of movement. And as I was re-facing the party I sensed movement near some monuments. I sighed in excitement at finding him and walked that way.

When he came into sight he was sitting in front of a tall stone head with his head tilted back against it and his eyes closed. His hands lay in fists in the grass next to him and his legs were out long. I walked over quietly and sat down next to him. He must have known I had followed him because he didn't move, open his eyes, or anything else that shared with me any interest in knowing who sat down next to him, my shoulder brushing against his.

"You know when they bury people their heads are near the grave marker. There is a high chance we're sitting on some dead person's face." I shared a humorous tid bit trying to cut some of the tension. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but there wasn't much of a reaction as I knew there would have been if he wasn't upset. He would have been laughing. I had pulled my knees up, but relaxed my hands resting on my thighs. How did our friendship deepen so much in two days that I was running after him to check to see if he was okay? That his best friend trusted me to check to see if he was okay instead of coming himself? I felt content about it, but, uh, why did I know that what Quinni said was going to bother him so much. I care about him. I turned my head to the side to look at him, and looked quickly away from him as I started to blush. My heart started to race. Dammit, Gemma, why'd you have to admit that to yourself now. "You know I am here if you need me to be." I state nervously pushing some of my ash-blond hair behind my ear. "I know what it is like to feel humiliated and scared." I said quietly, staring away from him. I heard a shift next to me and then I felt him staring. Why was I hyper aware of his staring?

"I just need a moment, but thanks for caring enough to come after me." He said. His voice was wavering like he was on the verge of crying.

"Someone has to give a shit, plus I am returning the favor from the last few days" I shrug, turning to look at him. I think what I said was making it worse as his eyes started to turn red. I reach out and find his hand which has relaxed since I sat down and was no longer in a fist. I threaded my fingers through his, gave his hand a squeeze, which he returned. I rubbed my thumb over his as I waited a couple minutes for him to speak. It was a comfortable silence.

"I . ." He started and trailed off. "Thank you." He whispered. I could feel him tense. He wanted to share more but stopped himself." I am sorry Gemma, but I need some time to myself. I will come find you at the party in a few minutes." He started giving my hand a squeeze back.

"Okay." I stated. I let go of his hand and moved to get up. Once I was on my feet, I adjusted my shirt and then ran a hand through my hair.

"It is adorable that you do that when you're stressed," he muttered. I gave him an awkward, self-conscious, smile. I didn't realize I did that. I swallowed hard. "I'll meet you up there."

I did not glance back when I walked away even though I wanted to. If he needed some time, he needed some time. Ant noticed me when I walked up and gave me a concerned look. I shrugged.

"Is he good?" He asked when I reached him.

"Not entirely sure, said he needed some space, but he's upset, I can tell." I sighed. The drinks have really hit my brain and it being later than my usual bedtime, and caring about someone else. I playfully bumped into Ants shoulder. "I think he'll be back in a few minutes." He smiled at me.

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