33. Lip Reading

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This one is a bit short but I need it to be short because if we move on to Dean's POV, it won't showcase what is needed. So, here it is—Blythe's POV.

Please stay safe, loves.

- Bella xo


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Blythe

Interacting with Dean more and more throughout was finally going to make me rip my hair out. Ever since the fiasco about the fucking toilet paper—yeah, a toilet paper! Can you believe that we finally resorted to arguing about a toilet paper? He's acting like an asshole to get on my nerves, knowing fully well how much I hated those types of people. Sure, I don't make it easy for him and I tred to be nice, he just didn't want to be like that.

The only reason I haven't kicked his ass is because I know that Jessica and Dale will get mad at me. Okay, fine. It's because I still care for the big dumbass.

You don't just care. You love him.

This is why I've resorted to being cold-hearted all my life. Being emotional about things never really made sense until Nathan took me in and showed me what it's like to have a brother, and it moved towards Dean next, who showed me how we could be best friends, who showed me how I could love him even if he couldn't love me back.

After Dean came back to his brother's room with Grace hand-in-hand, I've come into terms with the fact that he's finally moved on. For a moment, I was a little thankful towards it. Seeing Grace tell me that she loves him and the two of them holding one another brought me back as to why I was hiding my feelings for him, why I told him that we couldn't be together.

Jamie saw their intertwined hands and glanced at me with apology in his eyes. Maybe it was pity but I just shook my head and gave him a small smile. A reassurance that I was okay. Even though I clearly wasn't.

Time sped up quickly after that. I helped out around the Hemmingway household whenever I could. Jamie and I got closer because I would drive him to the hospital and give him some time until he's finally ready to leave and come back again tomorrow. Because of what happened, the department of my office gave me leniency to actually change my schedule.

Everyone was still reeling in the fact that there was a possibility that Charlie wouldn't be able to wake up anytime soon even though she managed to finally breathe on her own. Still, no one wanted to give up on her. Her mother even confided at me at times whenever Charlie's cousin wasn't around to be with her. It's weird to actually know another family besides the Hemmingways but at least, if it wasn't her cousin that was there for her, I was.

It became exhausting at times that I wouldn't even sleep. I'll just go to race to feel some sort of release. Castillo and Max would watch me with the audience surrounding me, cheering for me. Nickson and the rest of the guys gave me updates daily, every hour on Dean and his family's location and if they're safe. It became a routine that if they miss an hour of updating me, I would become anxious.

Rachel still couldn't be found. Antonio called up several times to update me that there are some sightings of her—bright blonde hair with a hoodie up and a mask to hide her face. While I tried my best to keep calm most of the time, I still couldn't manage it.

My phone buzzes, ripping me out from my elusive thoughts. There were already several texts from people.

Antonio: No sign yet.

Jessica: Hi, sweetie! Are you here yet??? Grace is with us now.

Here? Where?

Nickson: Game starts in five minutes. He's safe, getting ready for the game. You coming?

Shit! I completely forgot. Caleb had mentioned about the game a week before. It was even in my calendar on my phone. Come high or low, I will try hard to keep my promises towards Dean. I made a promise to him to take care of him up when he's drunk, to eat cheeseburgers and drink coffee only with him, to hit him when he becomes a jerk, and to go to every single game of his, angry or not.

Running into my room, I grab my bag, put on my usual boots, and stick my switchblade inside. I pick up my phone and send a group text to Castillo and Max.

Going to Uni field. Football game.

The sky is already cloudy meaning that there's a good chance it'll rain. I go back to my room to grab a raincoat, my keys to my bike, and finally open the door.

My eyes widen at Max, holding Castillo while he presses his palm to the left side of his chest, just below his shoulder with his blood running out like a waterfall. Panic seizes up my chest and I take hold of him. He's signing something with his bloody hand but I couldn't make it out.

"Max, what the hell happened?" I point to the couch. "Take him there."

"I, I—" she stutters, the two of us holding him by the waist. He's getting heavier and he's slowly blinking, trying to keep himself awake. "I don't know! Something came up behind him and before I could get the person, she ran away! Didn't even get a good look at him."

Placing him down slowly, Castillo grips my arm. He's shaking his head, his mouth opening but nothing is coming out. I press down on his chest, blood shoots out again and he releases a strangled sound of pain. "Okay, okay! It's okay. It'll be okay." I look up to Max. She's shaking her hands as if trying to get rid of his blood on him. "Grab the medical kit in my bathroom and then call someone over. Go, Spitfire!"

She runs in my room and I just face Castillo. He pulls up his hand again and I watch as he signs. "Not Max."

"What do you mean?" I mouth, not wanting to sign and take my hands off of his wound. Thank God that Castillo still can read lips. "Hang on for me."

Castillo nods slowly, a small half-smile making its way to his face. "G-E-T O-U-T," He signs out letters for emphasis. "M-A-X R-A-C-H-E-L."

"What?" Before I can ask anything else, Max comes out.

She's not holding my medical kit. She's holding a gun. "Ah, shoot. Guess he still managed to warn you, huh?"

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