Razor Sharp | ✓

Thirty-Six

♡♡♡

Noah's driving me home, and I feel a sense of deja vu. Only nine weeks ago I was sitting in this exact passenger seat, not knowing that my summer was about to change for the worst. I would be dragged, kicking and screaming to a car and then spend six weeks in hell.

It's been two weeks since I woke up in the hospital. Two whole weeks of recovering. I still have a lot of healing ahead of me. But for now, at least I'm going home.

The windows are down and my long brown hair is whipping across my face, even after pulling the strands into a low pony. It doesn't bother me though, especially after being stuck in a hospital room for two weeks straight.

The only thing that makes everything better is the visits from my friends. Stacey and Carmen came every single day. Last week, when school started back again and I wasn't able to go, they still came and visited me after. I was determined not to miss too much of my final year of high school, so I made sure that they brought me all my work so that I wouldn't fall behind. Without both my friends, I don't think I'd be able to function properly.

"The house has been really quiet without you," Noah says, pulling up to a set of traffic lights.

I turn to him, smiling. "It's so weird. Coming home, I mean."

I always used to complain about seeing The Skulls every day, but now it'll be weird not seeing them at all. It's just like that saying goes; you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

"I cleaned it yesterday," he laughs, and I can't help my scoff.

"You? You cleaned the house? Wow, everything really has changed since I left."

"Yeah," he says, suddenly all serious, "it really has."

Pulling into the driveway, Noah grabs my overnight bag from the backseat, filled with all the clothes he brought me to wear during my stay in the hospital. He rushes over to open the door for me.

I can feel the stitches pulling on my wound, but I smile at Noah anyway. "You know, I can open doors on my own. I'm not that broken."

"Sorry, I know. It's just...I don't know how much or how little I'm supposed to help. This is weird for me."

I smile. "I know. But, you're already doing a great job."

He smiles, ruffling my hair as he lets me walk inside first.

Spinning around the room that is my entryway feels slightly nauseating. The photos hanging on the wall of Noah and I make me sad. The family portrait, the one with mum that we never seemed to be able to take down, hangs slightly crooked and I fight the urge to fix it.

"Earth to Ellie?" Noah says, waving his hands in front of my face. "You still in there?"

I snap out of my trance, shaking my head. "Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. I was just asking if you wanted me to help you up the stairs to your room? I mean I know you're capable of doing it yourself but I just mean—"

"Noah," I say, resting a hand on his shoulder to stop his rambling. "It'd be great if you took my bag up for me, but I think I'll manage walking on my own, thanks."

I decide to lead the way, wincing slightly with each step up to my room. I don't remember having these many stairs, but for some reason, when I finally reach the top, I'm out of breath.

"The doctors did say that you were going to be tired for a while. They don't want you going to school for another two weeks."

Noah bypasses me, throwing open my bedroom door. "I'll unpack for you, while you sit your tired ass down on the bed, watching me slave away."