Wicked Game || CURRENTLY EDITING

Chapter 6: Screwed Over By Time

"Y/n."

I stop humming along to Madonna and look up from my homework. My mother is standing at my bedroom door, holding onto the doorknob.

"Yes, mom," I acknowledge her.

"There's a boy here to see you. Says he's a friend," she announces and wiggles her eyebrows.

"Oh?"

That's odd, what friend could that be? "Should I let him up," she asks.

"Sure."

She mutters an "okay" and closes the door. I climb off my bed and walk over to my boombox to lower the volume on the music. A knock sounds at my door and it creaks opens. I whip around and see Jonathan standing with half of his body through the doorway.

"Jonathan, hey," I say surprised.

"Can I come in?" he asks.

"Yeah, come on in," I insist. He fully opens the door and walks into the room. He sticks his hands in his pockets and apprehensively looks around before landing his eyes on me.

"I heard about your brother, I'm so sorry. How are you holding up?" I ask. I sit down on my bed and pat the spot next to me.

He plops down on the bed next to me and sighs before speaking, "Not that good. Sorry for dropping by like this. I just really need to talk to someone and... well, I don't have anyone else."

I smile, flattered that he thought of me. "Of course we can talk. I did tell you to come to me if you ever needed anything. Is this about Will?"

"Kind of," he hesitated to speak again but eventually said, "it's my mom. This is really affecting her and I'm really worried for her."

"I mean, yeah, I can imagine how tough it must be to lose a child."

"No, it's more than that. I'm worried for her mental well-being," he adds.

"What do you mean?"

He fiddles with his fingers as he struggles to say his next sentence. "She claims that Will is talking to her through the lights... and that there's a monster in the wall."

My eyes widen. I have no idea what to say to that and stutter out, "uh- wow, okay. That's... that's really heavy."

"Yeah..." he responds. "She caused a scene at the coroner today because she thinks that the boy they found isn't Will. She stormed out and people watched us argue on the street. Why can't she just accept that Will is dead?? She's making this so much harder," he shakily rants as he breaks down.

"Hey, hey, hey," I speak as I take a hold of his soft hand and lean closer to him.

"Everything is gonna be okay. She'll come around one day, that might not be tomorrow or next week but she will. People cope with pain in different ways, some more extreme than others. She just needs time... you need time."

I pull him into me with my free arm while still holding his hand. He lays his head on my shoulder and I rest mine on top of his. He continues to cry and gently squeezes my hand as I stroke his arm with my other hand.

"Will you come with me to the funeral home to buy Will's casket? I don't wanna go alone," he suddenly asks.

"Of course I will," I reply sweetly.

He pulls out of the hug and looks down at our hands as he thanks me. He moves his hand under mine with his palm facing up, mine facing down, and slowly glides his hand back until our fingertips are touching (kind of like he and Nancy did when she bandaged his hand). Butterflies swarm into my stomach and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks.