Downfall.

Chapter 6

The rest of the weekend was spent with me trying to forget what had happened on Friday night. I turned off my phone, turned off my computer, my television, everything that connected me to the outside world. I had almost hooked up with Alex. I had let him kiss me, take me upstairs. And all I woke up with the next day was hazy memories from the previous night, regret and worry taking root in my heart, and a roaring headache. I slept through most of the day, only awaking once to the sound of my mom crying downstairs, and my dad's failed attempts to comfort her. She was suffering from an aggresive case of cancer in her lungs, an after effect of her smoking as a teenager. But it put her in pain now, her either constantly crying or constantly sleeping, always hooked up to a machine of some sort. She got diagnosed back in June, and when all of her friends and family over in our hometown started freaking out, we decided to move here. To get away from it all. 

Except that's the thing about cancer. Even when you try to outrun it, it doesn't leave you.

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Monday rolled around and with dread I walked into first period. I was immediately greeted by whispers being thrown everywhere, everyone glancing around at each other. I took a gulp of air, assuming the worst. Had everyone heard about me and Alex? I hung my head down a little lower and made my way to my seat. I put my head in my hands once I sat down. I didn't want to be here. I really didn't want to go to Arts today. I didn't want to face Alex, I didn't want to do anything. I was wrestling with the idea of going home when suddenly the room went dead silent. As everyone says, you could've heard a pin drop. It was an eerie kind of quiet, like the room was haunted with words that wanted to be said. I looked up, to see why everyone had gone mute, and saw my desk partner slowly making his way to our desk. He sat down gingerly next to me, exhaling deeply. And suddenly the room was alive with noise again, everyone whispering even more harshly to each other. I was cofnused. What was going on? "Have I introduced myself yet?" he said quietly, his voice breaking. I barely knew this guy, but my heart was filling with concern for him. He slowly brushed the hair out of his eyes, revealing teal eyes that could stop hearts. "I'm Carter." he said, his voice shattering by the end of saying his name. His beautiful eyes had hints of being bloodshot written all over them, and his face looked drained. "I'm Ava... Are you okay?" I said quietly. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. All that happened was his hair flopped back down into his eyes which he slowly brushed up again. "No." he said quietly, his voice slightly more steady. I panicked inside, just slightly. What did I say to that? Asking him what was wrong seemed insensitive. I was pondering this when he looked at me again. "I saw you at the party last night. Did you... did you hear what happened? After everyone left?" he said, his voice gaining strength. I shook my head, confused. "I... I kind of left pretty quick. Turned off my cell this weekend." I muttered. He gave me a weak half smile. "I know, I saw you leave. But... The cops? They weren't there because of underage drinking. I called them. My brother... He... He drank too much. Alcohol poisoning." His voice broke again at the end, as he shook his head back and forth slowly. "He died." he finished quietly. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Someone had died at that party? I felt like I couldn't entirely breathe right. And that's when I knew why his eyes had taken me so aback. They matched his brother's, except his brother's were cold and hard. Carter's were haunted, but inviting. "I don't know why I'm telling you this..." Carter was saying, starting to turn away. I stopped him, putting my hand on his arm, his skin warm beneath my fingertips. "You're Beau Stanford's brother." I stated quietly. He nodded, slowly. "I am so sorry about your loss." I whispered. Carter just looked at me, not angry, just looked at me. He didn't say anything, just gave me a tight nod. Our teacher walked in then, silencing the harsh whispers of our classmates. I reluctantly dragged my eyes away from Carter's and wrote down today's assignment that was scrawled across the board. 

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Math was awkward and silent without Beau. You could just feel the loss in the room. Even the hag didn't have us do any work. Just told us weakly to do work from other classes. The emptiness was too evident, even for her. 

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Lacey practically tackled me the second I walked into Journal Writing. Demanding to know why I hadn't answered my phone all weekend and that she must have texted me about Beau at least 13 times and that she had heard I had hooked up with some mexican. At this last part, I groaned and banged my head against the desk. "Stop talking." I managed to tell her. She looked at me warily, but complied, giving me a hug before I left class.

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I entered Arts, already dreading this more than I thought was humanly possible. There was a pit of anxiety burning in my stomach, practically eating me alive. The second I walked in though, I could tell our teacher, who I learned was referred to as 'Lance', was in awful mood. He was yelling at one of the students next to a knocked over easel. He barked out a shout and whipped around when the door shut behind me. "Out! Go sit in the hall. Just. Get out!" he practically shouted at me. I did what he said without question, turning and shutting the door quietly behind me. Being out here alone was better than being in there with Alex. I placed my head in my hands again and scrunched up my eyes real tight, the ball of stress starting to slowly unfurl in my stomach, making me want to throw up my insides (Just thought I should paint you a pleasant little picture). Before long I heard Lance start shouting again, and the door closing. I rolled my head out of my hands as I heard footsteps approach me, and then stop. In front of me was Alex. 

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"Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing to the empty wall beside me. I realized I was gaping at him with an open mouth, and quickly shut it. "Go ahead." I managed, shakily. He sat down quietly beside me, running a hand through his tousled hair. "We didn't get a chance to talk. About what happened." he said, softly. I didn't look at him, didn't say anything, only stared down at my black and white vans. "Can we please?" he said quietly. I looked at him. "Talk about it?" he finished, his dark eyes pleading. I huffed out a sigh. "Fine. Talk." I managed angrily. I didn't want to talk about this. I wanted to forget that it happened. "I don't want to forget what happened." he said. Well. There goes that idea. "I know we were both drunk. I know that it was a mistake. But I don't want to forget it. I know you felt it too. There's something here. Something between you and me. And I think you know it too." He said in a rush, his words coming out fast, but clear as day. I took a deep breath and finally met his eyes. His whole body was angled toward me, his haunted dark pupils looking straight through me. I wanted to say something, I just didn't know what to say. "Don't say anything. Please. Just let me take you on an actual date." he murmured softly, his body way too close to my own. I squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was genuine. There was something hidden in his eyes, something dark. But I wanted to know more. I wanted to know him. I wanted to know what he was, what his thoughts were at 2 AM, what he ate for breakfast on Sunday mornings. I wanted to know why he looked at me like I was an object of hunger, why he looked at me like he wanted me. There was something in his eyes I had never seen anybody look at me with before. There was lust in his eyes. So taking a huge leap of faith, I nodded an okay.