Status: Completely written- now, to post it all
The Last Place
12
I continued to grumble incoherently as I walked, because clinging to my annoyance was easier than letting myself feel the fear and anxiety that were trying to slip through. Apologizing to Shea. Even thinking about it still seemed somehow wrong.
I reached the entrance to the gym and saw that practice was already over. The boys would be in the locker room, if Carmen was right about the timing- and I had no doubt that she was. She knew everything about anything that related in any way to guys in our school. And she’d dated three of the members of the basketball team.
I leaned against the wall, trying my best to look casual. One or two of the guys came out of the locker room and gave me strange looks. They were as confused about why I was there, I think, as I was. But they didn’t say a word.
And then Shea was standing in front of me. He was towel-drying his messy hair and didn’t see me at first. When he finally looked up, he froze, then deliberately turned away and started walking down the hallway.
“Shea, wait!” I called before I could think about what I was doing. Carmen was right, things were just easier that way. He either didn’t hear me, which was unlikely, or he ignored me. “Shea, I’m sorry!” I cringed. I could hear the desperation in my voice.
Now he did stop, and he turned around, examining my face closely. I must have met his approval, because he walked back to stand in front of me. “You know why we’ve always argued? Why you thought I hated you? It was Fallon. I caught him in a teacher’s classroom, looking for the answers to a test. He threatened me because he didn’t want you to know about it. He said if I ever told you, I would regret it. And then he made me look like the bad guy to you, so that you wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell.” Ah, here was the Shea I’d known all my life, I thought bitterly. That bastard.
I managed to slap him with all of my strength before my knees gave out and I sank to the floor and stared at a spot on the wall. There just wasn’t enough room in my poor heart to hold the anger and the sorrow, and guess which won?
“It’s not true,” I said automatically. Shea crouched on the ground in front of me and wiped tears I hadn’t been aware of shedding off of my cheeks. I refused to look at him, the filthy liar. Fallon would never have done that.
But Shea only moved himself into my vision, and I saw that he looked painfully remorseful. “I should never have told you that. I’m sorry.”
I almost believed him, that he was sorry. “It’s not true,” I repeated. Shea didn’t say a word and I glared at him.
“Say it. Tell me that you lied.” Shea shook his head and seemed worried.
“I didn’t lie to you, and I don’t want to now. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry that I hurt you. But it doesn’t matter now. One mistake doesn’t mean he wasn’t a good person, just that he was human.”
And I burst into tears right then. Not the trickle that had worked their way out before, but a full-on sobbing fit, messy and senseless.
I wouldn’t even have noticed that Shea put his arms around me, drawing me against him, but for the way his heat spread through my body. I felt instantly not better, but comforted. Not like my grief had vanished completely, but like I was healing. Like I could learn to live like a normal human being again.
Shea held me until I was calm again. I leaned my head back against the wall and he did the same, keeping one arm around my shoulders. He rested his cheek on the top of my head and I thought, this is nice. Unexpected, but nice.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. It doesn’t happen so much anymore, but…” But it hurt so much to hear anything bad about Fallon. A year ago, I would have started a week-long fight over this. I would have yelled at him for deceiving me. I would have been able to ask him why. And then we would have gotten over it, like we’d moved past every other argument.
But that was impossible.
I didn’t know how to explain that to Shea, but then, he seemed to understand. He wasn’t asking for an explanation, in any case.
“Ssh. You have nothing to apologize for, Aislin. And I accept your apology, from before.” Though he couldn’t see it, I smiled at that.
I could feel myself relax against him. That had been the first time I’d cried on anyone since Fallon’s death, the first time I’d let anyone support me. I never realized how much of a difference it made. I sighed almost happily and, without really thinking about it, inched so that we were touching from hip to shoulder, leaning into him.
My grief wasn’t gone, and never would be, but it was bearable again.
I could feel myself relaxing steadily, until I was very nearly asleep. It was nice, not having to say anything to him. To have him simply accept me, and, maybe, understand me? In any case, I pretended he did because that’s what I wanted to believe, for a time.
When I was inches from sleep, I felt pressure against my hair. His lips? And he sighed. I longed to ask him what he was thinking, but I was just so tired. It felt like too much effort to even form those few words.
“What am I going to do with you, Aislin?” he whispered, but I had a feeling it wasn’t me he was really addressing. That was the last thing I remembered before drifting into the first dreamless sleep I’d had in months.
I reached the entrance to the gym and saw that practice was already over. The boys would be in the locker room, if Carmen was right about the timing- and I had no doubt that she was. She knew everything about anything that related in any way to guys in our school. And she’d dated three of the members of the basketball team.
I leaned against the wall, trying my best to look casual. One or two of the guys came out of the locker room and gave me strange looks. They were as confused about why I was there, I think, as I was. But they didn’t say a word.
And then Shea was standing in front of me. He was towel-drying his messy hair and didn’t see me at first. When he finally looked up, he froze, then deliberately turned away and started walking down the hallway.
“Shea, wait!” I called before I could think about what I was doing. Carmen was right, things were just easier that way. He either didn’t hear me, which was unlikely, or he ignored me. “Shea, I’m sorry!” I cringed. I could hear the desperation in my voice.
Now he did stop, and he turned around, examining my face closely. I must have met his approval, because he walked back to stand in front of me. “You know why we’ve always argued? Why you thought I hated you? It was Fallon. I caught him in a teacher’s classroom, looking for the answers to a test. He threatened me because he didn’t want you to know about it. He said if I ever told you, I would regret it. And then he made me look like the bad guy to you, so that you wouldn’t believe me even if I did tell.” Ah, here was the Shea I’d known all my life, I thought bitterly. That bastard.
I managed to slap him with all of my strength before my knees gave out and I sank to the floor and stared at a spot on the wall. There just wasn’t enough room in my poor heart to hold the anger and the sorrow, and guess which won?
“It’s not true,” I said automatically. Shea crouched on the ground in front of me and wiped tears I hadn’t been aware of shedding off of my cheeks. I refused to look at him, the filthy liar. Fallon would never have done that.
But Shea only moved himself into my vision, and I saw that he looked painfully remorseful. “I should never have told you that. I’m sorry.”
I almost believed him, that he was sorry. “It’s not true,” I repeated. Shea didn’t say a word and I glared at him.
“Say it. Tell me that you lied.” Shea shook his head and seemed worried.
“I didn’t lie to you, and I don’t want to now. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry that I hurt you. But it doesn’t matter now. One mistake doesn’t mean he wasn’t a good person, just that he was human.”
And I burst into tears right then. Not the trickle that had worked their way out before, but a full-on sobbing fit, messy and senseless.
I wouldn’t even have noticed that Shea put his arms around me, drawing me against him, but for the way his heat spread through my body. I felt instantly not better, but comforted. Not like my grief had vanished completely, but like I was healing. Like I could learn to live like a normal human being again.
Shea held me until I was calm again. I leaned my head back against the wall and he did the same, keeping one arm around my shoulders. He rested his cheek on the top of my head and I thought, this is nice. Unexpected, but nice.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. It doesn’t happen so much anymore, but…” But it hurt so much to hear anything bad about Fallon. A year ago, I would have started a week-long fight over this. I would have yelled at him for deceiving me. I would have been able to ask him why. And then we would have gotten over it, like we’d moved past every other argument.
But that was impossible.
I didn’t know how to explain that to Shea, but then, he seemed to understand. He wasn’t asking for an explanation, in any case.
“Ssh. You have nothing to apologize for, Aislin. And I accept your apology, from before.” Though he couldn’t see it, I smiled at that.
I could feel myself relax against him. That had been the first time I’d cried on anyone since Fallon’s death, the first time I’d let anyone support me. I never realized how much of a difference it made. I sighed almost happily and, without really thinking about it, inched so that we were touching from hip to shoulder, leaning into him.
My grief wasn’t gone, and never would be, but it was bearable again.
I could feel myself relaxing steadily, until I was very nearly asleep. It was nice, not having to say anything to him. To have him simply accept me, and, maybe, understand me? In any case, I pretended he did because that’s what I wanted to believe, for a time.
When I was inches from sleep, I felt pressure against my hair. His lips? And he sighed. I longed to ask him what he was thinking, but I was just so tired. It felt like too much effort to even form those few words.
“What am I going to do with you, Aislin?” he whispered, but I had a feeling it wasn’t me he was really addressing. That was the last thing I remembered before drifting into the first dreamless sleep I’d had in months.