Chapter 10: Making It Worse

School was a bad idea. But after another whole day trapped in that house with her parents and the shadow of Cole, Emily couldn't stand it any longer. She ignored the deepening hurt in her mother's face and body, the sad patience her father treated her with these days, and got the hell out.

She could have picked a better destination. But the mind-numbing boredom of class would help her forget. What she hadn't counted on was her freedom from the gray. Without it, she was unshielded and totally helpless.

Not that her schoolmates were cruel. Quite to the contrary. The whispered well wishes and looks of pity would have encouraged anyone else and made them feel included, as if someone actually cared. To Emily, it was an endless line of jabs to her injured heart. For the first time since the accident, she was aware of the world around her.

Damn, she needed a drink.

The teachers were the very end, like they even had a clue about how she was feeling. As if any of them were really concerned. She knew better. But they had to pretend, didn't they? Wear their fucking masks and throw their empathy at her, their unwanted emotions. Didn't they know they were just making it worse?

The only thing that kept her from dropping to her knees and screaming at them all to stop staring was a firm grip on her backpack. The worn straps dug into her shoulders and she clung to them, her connection to herself, a safety net.

And, the girls, safe and sound. She stroked her stomach under the heavy sweatshirt, even though they didn't make her feel as safe as they used to.

At least she hadn't seen Sam again, or Madison and Tara for that matter. Maybe her delusion was only linked to Sam. In fact, Emily had almost convinced herself it was a symptom of drinking and the apparition of her friend in Brandsom's car window was a leftover hallucination from her hangover.

Her heart knew better, but she wasn't really listening to it at the moment.

When the lunch bell rang, she was lost. What did she do before? She could hardly remember. She spent four months sitting alone in the cafeteria with a wall of grief around her so high no one dared approach her pity castle. And now, when she would have liked to reach out, there was no one.

Emily did her best not to cry in her yogurt.

Before the last tasteless spoonful touched her tongue she decided. Home. At least there she could be by herself for real, in her own space, not alone in a room full of strangers. Her semester was screwed anyway. Big deal. Next year's chance at prom was the furthest thing from her mind.

Emily dumped her trash and headed for the front door. Someone else's hand, large and tanned, pushed on the glass before she could reach it. She felt him towering over her, smelled the subtle scent of his clothes, his heat invading her space. An instinctual shift to the side freed her of his shadow before she could even turn and look up.

Todd looked down at her, warm brown eyes full of concern. She checked for pity. No, definitely concern. She could handle that. A wonder. Someone who understood what she needed.

"Are you okay?" Deep voice, full of velvet and honey. She liked it. It made her feel like she was important.

"Yeah." She shifted the backpack, the weight tilting her shoulder. "Thanks."

His fingers lifted slowly, as if he thought he would be rejected. She didn't move, let him just barely touch the hurt on her cheek. She hadn't bothered to bandage it despite knowing how ugly it was.

"You're pretty hard on yourself, aren't you?" Todd's eyes drifted to the wound, then back to hers.

His words hit so deep, on so many levels, Emily's throat closed. It was a moment before she could work it loose.

"I guess."

His hand dropped, gestured at freedom. "After you."

Emily's sneakers touched pavement, eyes squinting into the afternoon sun. The warmth felt great. It had been so long since she appreciated it.

"It seems like every time I meet you, I have to say how sorry I am." Todd was still close. She didn't mind.

"That's my life." Casual worked for her. Keep it casual. No sobbing on the nice, handsome guy who was actually trying to communicate.

"Any word on your brother?" The way he said it was so gentle it only hurt a little.

"Not yet." Emily sighed. "The cops are useless."

He chuckled. "Tell me about it."

Tumblers in her head rolled together. Found their places. Clicked.

"Oh shit," she said. "Your dad."

"Is Detective Brandsom and in charge of your brother's case." Todd shifted his shoulders, his dark shirt pulling tight across his wide chest. She was shocked she was noticing such things, considering. "Don't worry. I agree with you."

Blushing hurt her cheek, but she couldn't help it.

"I guess they are doing everything they can." A cloud drifted across the sun, the instant cool making her shiver. It felt like the gray rolling in. Despite how easy it would be to go back there, she realized she didn't miss it.

"Yeah." His sneakers shuffled on the asphalt. "Are you headed home?"

The chill hadn't gone away. Emily looked up. Darker clouds pushed the white fluffy mass as a breeze rippled over the parking lot, a small dust dervish living for a heartbeat before collapsing to the ground again.

Collapsing. She was looking forward to that. Folding herself into her bed and hiding, since the gray couldn't do it for her anymore.

"This was a bad idea. School. I'm... not. Ready."

"I was surprised to see you," he said. "Do you need a ride home?"

Sweet. Too much. She couldn't take it. Why was he so nice? He almost made her wish she wasn't such a screw up, that she could have a normal life and a boyfriend and no worries beyond what she was going to wear to school or how she did on a math test.

"No thanks." She started walking, needing to get away from him before she did something horrid and foolish. Like let him in. Still, a part of her was hurt she was alone by the time she reached the grass on the other side of the parking lot.

Somehow, she picked up a stone in her shoe. Emily considered leaving it there, as physical penance. But the idea of walking the mile home with constant jabbing pain in the bottom of her foot was more than she was willing to take.

"Emily?"

She whipped around, already backing up, ready to run, hide, whatever it took. But it wasn't Sam standing there, or the girls. Or even Todd. The guy who said her name was a stranger.

Well, not completely. He looked familiar. She was sure they went to school together at least a few years but never hung out. And why would they? Emily's friends were an exclusive club, after all, no boys allowed.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

She shook it off. "Who are you?" It sounded rude coming out. She hadn't intended it to, but didn't do anything about it, either. What little energy she had to communicate had been used up on Todd.

"I'm Devon." His balled up fists were shoved in the pockets of his dark jeans. "Petrie. We have third period Law together."

The shadows under his eyes were as dark as hers. Stoner? Maybe. Looking for weed. Or selling it. Sam usually took care of that part. Whatever, she needed to go. The clouds were getting darker, threatening, and it would be a miserable walk if it started to rain. Not like it would wash anything clean or she'd give it a go.

"Sorry, freak show is over." She turned to leave, not caring what he wanted. Maybe he worked for the fucking school paper or something and wanted an interview. Creep.

"Wait! Please..." Something in his voice rang in her heart, a familiar thing tugging her back.

She turned and glared. "What?"

His lean body shook despite his rigid attempt to hold himself still. Devon wouldn't meet her eyes for a long moment, so long she heaved a sigh and backed up a step. His gaze jerked upward, met hers.

She froze. That look. That horrible, consuming look.

"Your brother," he said through a mouthful of emotional gravel. "And mine."

Her heart told her to go to him, to make some motion, some sharing of grief. The human thing to do. She couldn't. Her pain was too strong, too tied up in four months of hell that had nothing to do with her most current tragedy.

"Cole." It was all she could say.

"Gavin." He nodded once as his body unclenched. "I thought. Maybe. We could talk. About it."

She recoiled immediately. "No."

Devon looked hurt, face naked, exposed, unable to hide it from her. His whole body protested the word, but she would not, could not. No.

Emily left him there at the edge of the path, a slumped wreck she couldn't bring herself to embrace.

The clouds began their own weeping the moment she set foot in the trees.

***