Nochelle - Our Stories

L O V E

~Season 4~ ignore the disappointment that was Nomanda

Noah never really knew what love was. Well, technically he did, but he didn't have much experience with it. He never really grasped the concept of it—what it truly meant to love someone and to be loved by someone. It wasn't something he experienced with his dad, and it was something he messed up with Abi.

He thought he loved his life of taking risks, being the best dancer and attempting tricky moves. But right now, as he sat in the cold hospital bed unable to move his back, he didn't love his life so much anymore. He was stuck in the ward alone, with absolutely nothing he loved. They didn't have lime soda, their pizza tasted like cardboard and his parents had left had left three hours ago. So yeah, he was pretty miserable. Nothing about his life right now was lovable.

He was straight up depressed. He messed up, he knows that, his mum had made that pretty clear. He was just trying to get the team to Regionals! But apparently everything he does goes to shit. He was pretty sure the rest of the team had heard what happened and would hate him, for being so stupid. He was pretty sure not one person in his life loved him.

~~~

The door swings open to reveal the last person Noah had expected to see. Gorgeous blonde hair, eyes shining, and a soft smile that's enough to bring Noah out of his depressing thoughts.

"Richie!"

She smiled and strolled over to the couch against the wall, setting down the red balloon wrapped around her hand, a duffel and her backpack.

"Hey, Noah. How are you feeling?"

She has her back turned to him as she sifts through the duffel, looking for something. Noah could not be happier that his duet partner was here, it was like a beam of light, a glimmer of hope shone around her as she entered.

"Better now... what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to keep you company and take you home, idiot."

She lifts out a TNS sweatshirt and goes over to the side of his bed.

"Here, your mum packed a duffel of some clothes and stuff for you. We thought you'd like to wear something other than the nasty hospital gown."

"Hey, if anyone can rock a hospital gown, it would be me, Richie."

She just snorts and tosses the sweatshirt at him.

"I thought my mum was gonna pick me up?"

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but you thought wrong."

"No! No no, I didn't mean it like that—I—"

Oh God, Noah already screwed up enough things, and he was about to screw this up too. He stutters and averts his eyes looking anywhere but at her, trying to figure out what to say. He really needs to get better at talking—at feelings.

"Noah, it's fine, I'm joking, she's waiting outside."

He tilts his head to look at her as she takes a seat in the plastic-covered chair by the bed.

"Hmm—well, I'm not. I'm actually glad you're here instead of my mum—she's a little—I—I'm glad you're here, Richelle. Thanks for coming."

"Of course, Noah, you're my Best Friend." A soft smile graced her face.

~~~

Richelle wasn't very fond of hospitals. She hates the way the obnoxious bright lights bounce of the even brighter white walls. The smells that are so grossly familiar—a cocktail of sweat, vomit, metallic stainless steel, strong bleach, and even the scents of get-well-soon flowers. The way the sounds of cries and gasps in the waiting room brings back memories of when Michelle was rushed to the ER for an appendectomy when they were kids. As she walks down the hall, she can almost taste the bland, burnt hospital coffee she so heavily relied on when her grandfather was sick. All to say that if she can help herself, Richelle avoids as much as setting foot into a hospital.