Nicholas Grey Must Not Die | ✓

8 | Lethal

"I know you're hurting, but so am I...if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you. Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you"

~ Stand By You (Wildfire)

It has been two weeks since news of Nick's arrest broke.

And now, it has been a week since he got released on bail.

I felt horrible, frustrated, and angry all at once. I don't know who I was more angry at, the girls doing this to Nick or me for manipulating him into his downfall. Although I didn't know what the girls were planning when I invited him to the party, I felt it in my gut at the time that I shouldn't trick him. I wish I'd listened to my gut; it's usually never wrong. 

It took me the full two weeks to convince myself that I needed to see him. The guilt was eating me up and I constantly felt nauseous at the thought of my involvement in this. Most of all, I felt terrible for him. He was innocent. I believed that now. Not only did I believe it, but I knew it to be a fact as well. He was being destroyed for something he didn't do and I felt stuck not knowing how to help him. 

During the two weeks, he'd become the hot topic around our school and all over town. People automatically dismissed him, forgetting all that he has done to forge a new path for the school's academic and athletic reputation. He was discarded immediately, be it by the school or the media.

They were destroying him, dragging his name, his family name, through the mud. 

And yet all I heard around school, around town, and on the local news was the never-ending lecture about how we need to do a better job of believing the women. We weren't supposed to ask any questions. We weren't supposed to voice our doubts. We were to take every accusation at face value.

Knowing Nick's innocence, hearing this nearly drove me insane. I was always irritated in public. More and more, I found myself trying to control my glares and scowls towards people defaming Nick. I've bitten my tongue so much so that it now constantly hurt.

But the pain I felt on my tongue couldn't begin to compare the pain I felt in my guilt-ridden heart. I felt like there was this hand tightly gripping my heart, squeezing it so hard so that it may combust. 

I couldn't think clearly. The image of Nick's heartbroken face when I ran out that day sat at the front of my thoughts all the time.

I needed to talk to him before I actually lost my mind.

And that's how I ended up back at his place with my hands in my jacket pockets as I waited for someone to open the door.

The wind was knocked out of my lungs when Nick appeared behind the door. He looked tired, so tired. There were deep dark bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess. And he was a mess.

My heart broke further at the sight of him as a lump lodged in my throat. Unable to control myself and my emotions, I lunged into his arms. My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. My eyes closed tightly as his comforting smell engulfed my senses. I felt my heartbeat slowing down and my breathing returning to normal.

His hands stayed at his sides as I hugged him tightly. I didn't want to let him go. But he was still as stone.

I used my hands on his shoulders to slightly push away and look up to catch his faded eyes.

"I'm sorry, Nick. I'm so sorry," I whispered, trying to hide the guilt that flooded my voice.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was monotone. No emotions. No expressivity. He was pushing me out.