Divided

:Chapter Twenty-Two:

*****

Matthew shakes me awake lightly. My eyes open slowly, but they widen when I see red. Blood spreads down the floor of the bus, but from where I am I can't see its origin. When I do, I wish I hadn't. Nick lies writhing on the floor, a screwdriver lodged in his side. I assume it's from the tool box, but my thoughts aren't clear enough to make a decision. I fall off the bench and scramble to his side. He breathes heard and groans loudly, gritting his teeth.

"Nick, oh my gosh is, was this, who did this? Was it my fault? I," I squeak and my voice wobbles.  I can't lose another friend this soon. He looks up at me and squeezes his eyes shut. I grab his hand and hold it steady as Matthew falls to his side and pulls out the first aid kit to start cleaning up his wound. Tears swell in my eyes at the sight of the deep red liquid spreading over the area of the floor. Matthew carefully pulls the tool from his side and Nick clenches my hand. I try to ignore the pain, because I know he is having a much worse time then I am. Derrick laughs hysterically at the other end of the bus. I can barely breathe as I work on taking in everything that has happened. I know that Derrick had something to do with this. If that is true, it's probably my fault. Nick squirms and groans through gritted teeth as Matthew pulls his blood soaked shirt back and starts cleaning the cut. My vision has cleared a little now that I've partially accepted what's happened. Life's crazy like that I guess.

I stay with him until he passes out, which is right after the stitches begin. I can't sit with him any longer. It may be selfish of me, but I can't handle seeing him like this. My stomach turns and I think I might throw up. This shouldn't have happened. My head throbs and I wish I could cry more, I need to do something. But I don't. Instead I follow Matthew's smooth movements as he sews up the wound.

He's very calculated, his hands know exactly where to go and when, his eyes keep with the needle, careful to not make any mistakes. It's only 5:38 and I already want to go back to sleep. I know I won't be able to, but I can at least sit down. Matthew's muscles expand and contract with each quick, calculated move. He wraps Nick's side with a large white bandage and carefully lifts him up, laying him on the seat right in front of me. Theo isn't thrilled about having to move, but he cowers and sits by Derrick with an attempt at a stern look. He walks over to my side and forces a tired smile.

"Is he, is he going to be okay?" I ask drowsily. Matthew sets a hand on the side of my jaw, tilting my head up to look at him. His top lip is uneven with his bottom lip, I never noticed that before. It stretches too far to the left to line up perfectly. He leans closer to my face, hovering about an inch away and resting his forehead on mine.

"I think so..." He sighs. I shake my head slightly and frown.

"You know who did this right." I say in a low voice. Matthew nods. "Then you also know it's my fault. If I never brought him into my drama..." I say quietly turning my head away from him. I think it's easier to admit to something when you don't actually have to look someone in the eye and say it. He sits down on my right and intertwines his hand with mine. I sit taller, pulling my lips inside my mouth.

"You didn't bring him in; he cares about you so he went in himself. A Lot of people would do the same, including me. It's not your fault; it's the person who stabbed him that's responsible." Matthew whispers in my ear. I wish I could believe him.

"Either way, if I get the chance, I'm going to kill him." I say quietly through gritted teeth. Matthew laughs, but it's not sincere. He doesn't understand that I'm serious this time. I think.

"Please do." He says lightly and pecks me on the cheek. I scan the area quickly with my eyes. No one's watching, everyone is sitting near the front of the bus now. I pull my hands up to the sides of his neck and fit my mouth to his. He seems surprised at first, but he kisses me back, moving his hands up my spine slowly. His hands reach the back of my neck and he runs his hands through the tips of my hair. I smile as he pulls away. What did I need to talk to him about again?