Clarkesville (Chandler Riggs)

Chapter 8

He held on to me for a good two minutes. I dreaded the moment when I had to let go, and look back to his upset expression.

"Riley, please." Chandler held onto both of my shoulders now, and he lowered his head until we were eye to eye. "We can't stay here." His voice cracked, but no more tears fell.

"Okay." Was he going to kiss me? I wouldn't allow it. "Let's uh..." He said, backing up a few inches, loosening his grip on my shoulders. Thank God his face was no longer that close to my own. "Let's get going."

I felt rude-I felt as if I were pushing him away. My hand shifted across his face as we slowly pulled apart, just so I wouldn't hurt him more.

He smiled a bit, and I smiled back. Ashton.

He sniffled, and gave out a little chuckle.

Haley.

He blinked his bloodshot cerulean blue eyes.

Freddie.

Every time my heart gave a beat, there was a soreness; a pain. Moving to California was enough, how could I possibly go without speaking to my three best friends? My practical brothers and sister?

I glared into Chandlers eyes, making out each wiry pale line inside of it. They were just like Freddie's, it made my whole body hurt; along with my throat. "Freddie..." I croaked.

I had realize my mistake. How could I do this to Chandler? Why couldn't I stop making him upset?

His eyebrows furrowed, and one of his hands fell off my shoulder. "What?" Oh great, I thought. "Who's Freddie...?" There it is.

"Chandler, I'm sorry. It's just," I began, lifting my hand up to make sure his other hand didn't lose it's contact with me. "I'm just used to my friend Freddie when he.."

"Hugged you?" His fingers touched mine, lightly playing around with them. "I get it. I miss Hana too."

Hana was Chandler's girlfriend, an actress that I had looked up to for a long while. "But you are here now. You're my age, and you're my friend. And I need you." He wasn't offended that I had called him Freddie?

Chandler was right. We needed each other. All those times watching him on TV, wanting to meet him desperately, grinning at pictures of him. I needed to put all of that behind me.

"And I need you. I'm sorry," his hands were back on my shoulders, and he now looked at me straight in the eye. One of my hands was touching his cheek and his hairline, the other holding on to his own.

"Then let's go. Okay?" Yes.

I nodded. We finally separated, my left hand still gripping his right. My right hand held to the gun in my backpack's pocket, as I slowly pulled it out, getting ready to go on out of the airport.

He held on to his own, pulling it out of his belt. "I need one of those things." I told him in an unrealistic voice, trying to change the subject.

"We have to find another cop by the time we get out of this place." He responded, sounding normal, unlike me. Our entire heart to heart conversation was over.

"C'mon." I began walking again. Chandler turned back around, and we were off.

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A few Stiffs made unbearable screeches; their teeth clanking on the metal bars of locked-up stores, the gates shaking from their pulls, and more and more piling up as we passed them.

There were quite a few throughout the airport's halls, that Chandler and I had a bit of trouble killing. They were a lot stronger than I had thought.