Bitter Affectionate

Chapter 12

I didn't know about the crash until the next morning.

I woke up late, my skin still crawling. I was still dressed from the night before. I must have fell asleep quickly because I barely remembered taking off my shoes when I got into the house.

Brent was the one who told me. A simple text that read "Hally and Piper were in a car accident" was what greeted me in the afternoon. Within the hour, I was at Brents house.

"I feel responsible," He was saying. "Like I should have done something. I could have prevented it."

"It's not your fault," I told him, laying a hand on his shoulder. If I was honest, I would have said that it was my doing. If I had just left Cas where she was sitting and went to look for Hally sooner, she wouldn't have left the club. I could have called a cab to bring us home and no one would have gotten hurt.

"How did you find out?" I asked after a long pause in conversation.

"The accident was mentioned on the news this morning," He explained. His voice was shaking, and I could tell he wasn't well by the dark circles under his eyes. "I couldn't sleep so I turned on the tv and the first thing I saw was Hallys car, totaled. Damn it, I should have done something!" 

"Don't get worked up," I said, my voice mildly warning. Brent had a tendency to get overwhelmed. He was prone to anxiety attacks, and he wasn't good at handling them. "They're both alright. Neither of them died or are even in critical condition. They just got hurt. And it's not your fault they thought it would be a good idea to drive impaired."

Brent took a deep, trembling breath and I could tell he was struggling to remain calm.

"Piper is gay," He told me quietly. He had balled both of his hands into fists in front of him.

"What?"

"She told me last night. She was leading me on all this time."

"What did you do when she told you?"

He looked embarrassed and didn't meet my eye when I asked that. I was beginning to get worried, and he definitely noticed as his reply came out quick and jumbled.

"I didn't hurt her or anything," He said. "But I was so mad. Because I really cared about her, and she was lying to me all this time, you know? She pretended like she cared about me and she didn't. I got really angry and I was yelling at her, but it was like she couldn't even hear me. Sh-She just... walked away."

I felt selfish, because all I could think was I'm leading Hally on.

"She was drunk," I answered slowly. "She wasn't herself. Did you see how much she drank? I'm surprised she's still alive."

"That's not the point!" Brent groaned. Things were escalating quickly. "She wasn't drunk every time we were together. She lead me on, on purpose, and didn't even bother to listen to me!"

"Brent, to be fair, I wouldn't just stand around getting yelled at either-"

"Who's side are you on?!"

"Yours, obviously, but-"

"Really? Because you're acting like you're agreeing with her!"

"Well, I'm not!"

He was getting passed worked up. It was devolving into a panic attack, and I didn't know how to stop it.

He was gasping for air and he pulled his hands through his hair before covering his face with them. It was a nervous habit of his, and I had deduced it was because he didn't like people seeing him panic or cry. The problem with that, though, was that it made it harder for him to breathe. I got up from where I was sat beside him at the island in his kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cupboard, filling it up with water from the tap.

I walked back to him and laid the glass in front of him before gently putting my hands on his arms. He took a deep breath, but I knew it was alright when he let me pull his hands away from his face and lay them flat on the table. 

He wasn't his usual, handsome self. His face was pale, but around his eyes and the apples of his cheeks were pink, like they usually were when he cried. His eyes were blood shot and tears streamed down his face. He blinked at my hands on his arms before noticing the glass. I released him and sat beside him as I waited for him to gulp it all down.

When he was finished, he put the glass back down on the table and breathed in deeply.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"I really liked her."

"I know."

"Should I visit her in the hospital?"

"I don't know."

He nodded solemnly, tapping his fingers on the island.

"I think I could have been in love with her," He told me.

"You were in love with her?"

"No, but I could have been."

I scooted my chair closer to his and wrapped my arm around him. He leaned into me, sniffling, and shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Brent."

"It's alright. I hope they're okay."

I nodded. "Me too."