Sincerely, Red

Chapter Nine

I waited, tapping my feet nervously, as David attempted to create music with Claire's doorbell.

"I'm opening it!" I heard her shout on the other end. "David, if that's you, stop playing with my doorbell!"

David stopped.

"Gosh," she muttered, turning the key in the lock. Her voice faded as it slid open."... Then again, I guess some people are only born with half a brain."

"My brain is perfectly fine, thank you very much," David said, offended.

Claire snickered. "I'm a lawyer, David, not an idiot. And even if I wasn't, I'd still be able to tell that your IQ is lower than a baby kakapo's."

"What on earth is a kakapoo?" he asked, bewildered.

"Not a kakapoo," she stressed. "A kakapo is a type of flightless parrot."

"So it's useless because it can't fly?" he muttered, scratching his head.

"It's useless talking to you," she sighed. "Actually, it doesn't use its brains because it lives in an area that doesn't require it to think very much. There aren't any predators about."

"Oh," he said. "You should've mentioned that the first time around."

She turned her head away from him, muttered something under her breath and turned to me.

The change in her struck me instantly.

It was hard to believe that I'd only seen Claire a day ago. Already, mild dark circles were beginning to form under her eyes and her skin was slightly pale. Partially red eyeballs stared down at me, as she wrapped her dressing gown tighter around herself.

It was the first time I'd seen her in something other than her work clothes.

She looked like she was suffocating, asphyxiating and being smothered completely by a force stronger than a hurricane, stronger than life actually.

Still, I asked, "Are you okay?"

The silence hung heavily for a few moments.

And then, for the first time since I'd woken up, Claire did something completely unexpected.

She awkwardly moved forwards only to push my head into her shoulder blade, where my nose hit her neck roughly. It throbbed for a couple of seconds before going half numb. Her manicured hands subtly tried to smooth out the wisps of hair that had come undone, attempting to make everything perfect, even though it clearly wasn't.

It was definitely a Claire type of hug.

"I know a great hairdresser," she told me, a couple of moments later. "I'm sure we could sort all of this, um, hair out. We don't want you to end up looking like David."

"I look perfectly fine, thank you very much," he huffed for the second time that day. "How many insults are you up to today? Aiming for a new record, are you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, David."

A wind began to pick up outside, resembling the one that had gathered on the school grounds. It seemed that the dark, gloomy weather intended to follow me for quite some time. It was clinging to me, sinking its claws into my mind and polluting the thoughts there. It was like toxic acid.

"Come in, darling," Claire said, her words growing softer. "It's cold out there."

"You know I'm not a doctor or anything, but I think you might be bipolar," David offered, in all seriousness. "You change moods so quickly. I swear you were angry as heck last night and then you were a sobbing mess and now you're all happy. It's more than scary. It's freaky."