Young Writers Society

April

Isabelle was a wreck. End of story. She came to me every time she was hurting, that's all she ever has done, well lately anyways. She got her keys from Paul and zoomed off out of his drive way.

I sighed.

Taking a left from his street, I let Isabelle drive off alone. She needed to blow off some steam, and so did I.

Driving to the nearest club, I pulled my i.d. from the console.

"ID please." The lady asked.

I pushed it over to her and she scanned it. Rachels was the only bar that was open here in the middle of the day, and for that, I was thankful.

I sat at their bar stool and just looked around, only a few people had no life, like me. I sighed, a guy who looked mid 20s walked up and sat beside me.

"You need a drink?" He asked me, quite frankly I liked an upfront guy. I nodded and he ordered two shots of tequila.

That stuff was nasty. Just gross, but I wasn't about to turn down a free shot. I smiled and he counted to three before we just rushed it down.

I sighed. It was already beginning to look up. "So what brings you here?" He asked.

"A break." I replied. With that, he ordered two more shots for us. By round 3, I was buzzed. It was time for me to go home. Before I got drunk and did something I'd regret.

"My name is Taylor, by the way." He told me. I smiled.

"April."

I picked up my purse to leave and he passed me a piece of paper with a number on it, I guess it was his.

"Call me sometime and we can get together." He told me. I smiled and nodded, I left before I pounced on his face. That's how great I felt at the moment.

I got in my car and drove back home, safely.

I pulled out my phone to save Taylor's number and noticed I had a text from Iz.

"I miss you bestie. Thanks for being there for me. I feel like crap." She had sent.

I smiled, at least she knew I was there for her.

Isabelle

I laid in my bed for what felt like hours. Paul and Dafnie kissing kept playing through my head. All I wanted was a loyal boyfriend, it seemed like they didn't exist anymore.

I thought Paul might have been different, but, it's obvious that's not true.

Tears kissed my cheeks. I ran to the bathroom and threw up, it was all the crying I had been doing today. Why couldn't I be enough for him?

After puking two more times, I brushed my teeth and laid back in my bed. I never want to get up, ever.

------

The door slammed shut. Immediately my tears stopped and I sat up. Dad was definitely upset.

He walked in my room and looked around, "Where have you been?" He yelled. Drunk.

"I.. I have been home daddy." I reply. He loved when I called him that. He walked over and jerked my arm. "Don't lie to me. You've been with that boy haven't you?" He yelled.

I shook my head no and he slapped me in the face. This time hurt more than any other time.

I scooted back over my bed and fell behind it. "Stop." I told him. He followed after me and I ran under his grip. I had to leave. And get out.

Grabbing my keys, I ran out before he could get to me. This was the last straw I'd take from him.

Crying, I went to the place I felt at home at.

Slowly, I drove by Paul's house and saw he wasn't home. I parked my car down the road and went inside. He had left the door unlocked, thankfully. I sighed, the smell of his cologne made me swoon.

I walked around the apartment and made sure no one was here and then I made my way to his bedroom and laid in his bed. I just wanted some comfort and this was the place to be. I curled up and laid down for awhile.

Philip Masterson

Rupert wasn't too happy about hearing what I had to say. So, I left. He didn't want to even see me for a while, which made no sense. He didn't even like her, he used her. I don't understand this.

But the problem here was, she was pregnant. He told me once they hung up. I wasn't ready to be a father. I wouldn't be a father. She was taking care of that child on her own. I know I sounded harsh but... what the hell. I don't have time for a child.

"Don't you see it?" this kid in class was gushing to another. They were these two nerds I never spoke t o but were always too loud for me. Sometimes these two guys reminded me of little girls. "Just give him the black hair and he could be Snape!"

Jesus, I even knew who Snape was. I needed a drink.

The teacher droned on about why politics are so important and then the bell rang and I headed to lunch.

My phone 'dinged' in my pocket and I pulled it out, reading a few unread messages.

Wanna replay yesterday? Kenzie

Hey bro, what's up with Rup? Merrick

I decided to reply to Kenzie with Not today, okay babe

And to Merrick He hates me

I slipped the phone back and felt my heart skip a beat. Rupert has been ignoring me for a week now and it made me sick. I liked him, he was my closest friend and now he hates me. He broke up with his girlfriend... and I can't even be there for him.

I know, sounds gay.

The hallways were cluttered as students filed into their classes, out of the school, or into lunch. I followed the crowd of basketball players into the cafeteria, smelling fried somethings'. Following them to the lunch line, I pulled my backpack higher onto my shoulder and just slumped with my tray, too upset to think.

What I did was so stupid, I figured. Rupert may be in love with Colette but he still has feelings for Jessie. So, it's not easy for him. But I can't do that, like two girls at the same time. That's just too weird and difficult.

I took my now full tray to our regular table, only to find Merrick reading a book and eating a pizza. Now we look like the loners table.

"Hey," I sighed.

He looked up from his book and nodded. "Why does he hate you?"

"What, you haven't spoken to him?"

"Philip," he placed his pizza onto the tray. "He hasn't been at school for the past few days and Rupert is not even answering his phone. I haven't spoken to him,"

"Sorry, I didn't know."

He sighed, waiting for me to say more. I should say something.

"I impregnated Jessie," I swallowed.

I saw the words slap him in the face, the book fell from his hands and onto the table with a thud. I kept my eyes on him, showing no fear to what he would do.

"Dude," he sighed. "How?"

Before I could reply he went on, shaking his head. "I mean, I know how... but I wouldn't expect Rupert to care since he didn't have feelings for her."

"That's what I've been saying! He left her!"

"He's mad at you because you got it in and he didn't?"

"That's possible,"

Just as we were talking, someone walked over to our table. I looked up to see that girl from Tinder, the one Rupert mentioned about being leftovers. Her sharp blue eyes flicked from me to Merrick and back. I sat up a bit straighter.

"Hey Merrick," She smiled.

"Hi, Dafnie," Merrick replied with a smile back.

And then she looked at me again. "Philip,"

"Hey," I winked.

She nodded slowly then looked back at Merrick.

"Do you know where Rupert is?" she asked Merrick.

"I haven't seen him for a while now."

Jesus, why do so many people care about his existence? It's getting annoying. He's not that popular. And she supposedly hates the guy.

"Fuck," she huffed, running her hand through her hair. "That son of a bitch." okay this girl swore too much to look pretty.

"What's the problem?" I asked, knowing I would regret it.

Her eyes landed on mine and I could feel the wrath fighting me.

"He's an idiot, that's the problem. My best friend is leaving me. To a whole other country just because he fucked up."

"Oh, that French girl?" I asked.

Merrick was listening but mostly just doing his own business, like reading his book. Dafnie crossed her arms over her chest, all attention on me.

"Yeah," she sighed.

I felt my heart pound harder against my chest, feeling that yeah, Rupert does mean a lot to everyone because he's fucking everyone up.

Cole
I laid on my bathroom floor, feeling helpless as my warm salty tears dripped onto the cold and unforgiving tile. I'd tried to shower myself, but it had gone wrong. And while I was probably capable of pushing myself up off of the floor and into my chair, I didn't.

Everybody else got to decide for me. My plans and how I would get there, my clothes, my food, my route to class. I needed good grades to stay in Lincoln Wood as part of the foreign exchange agreement. So even my GPA was decided for me. Since the damn accident I depended on everyone else for everything and the one thing nobody decided for me was how long I stayed on the floor.

Rupert left me feeling broken and ashamed when he walked out. I needed him. He was the only person who didn't treat me like a fragile doll after the accident. How ironic. I needed him because he didn't treat me like I needed him. And stupid me acted so... Nonchalant about the whole thing.

this is for the better When I told him I was going to France, that's what I'd said. As if I was planning on leaving him already but it wasn't like that. I was leaving to clear my head to find a way to keep him. He had told me he loved me but Jessie was right. Once he realized I wasn't sexy or even physically capable of... That. He left. I should've known that once model thin little Cole started gaining weight and quit putting on makeup, he would leave.

I should've known. But I didn't. I had fooled myself into thinking someone like him could love someone like me, a broken person who needs help for everything. But I was wrong. He wanted Jessie. Strong, sexy, independent, free. Not a little girl strapped to a wheeling cage.

I carved out a stencil, one I had already made with Rupert. The Rose. But I added words to it. I threw my paints and the rolled up stencil into a bag and wheeled down the street. It would take forever for anyone to realize what I was doing, even if I was slow. Nobody would see it because of the noise of whatever party and I was right. So I laid the stencil on the ground and began to paint, dragging myself out of my chair.

I should've known . Those were the words painted in blood red on the street. The words dripped a paint that was a darker shade of red, making it seem like I had been stabbed and the words dripped my blood. And underneath was the rose. But instead of the vibrant, colorful rose I painted with Rupert made with sharp lines and contrasting angles, I had smeared the paint in gray scale. I had created a black and white smudged flower, looking dead on the pavement. It looked like me, like my accident. I grabbed at my hair, sobbing, smearing spray paint on my face and the hair clenched between my fingers. I was a vandal. But how could something so beautiful be so wrong?

I quickly gathered up my paint supplies. The booming music thundered through the street, shaking the paintbrushes. But if someone came out, they would see what I did. As I motored my wheelchair around the corner I heard the roar of voices over music as a door opened, exposing the house to the night air.

"What the fu-" I heard someone begin before slamming the door shut, no doubt getting someone to show. And it took me a while but I made it to my house, taking a short cut between our neighborhoods.

I crawled into bed, shutting off my alarm when it woke me up. Like a good girl I did my best to get the paint off my face and out of my hair in the sink, and got dressed to the best of my ability. My host parents carried my bags out to the car and drove me to the airport, depositing me onto my international flight which would land first in England on a layover and then go to France.

My plane took off and then was airborne. The spatter of paint on my hands was mostly red, like blood. Like the person inside of me who had hope was dead by my own knife. The only thing I had left to do was think about how I left him behind, and how I wasn't quite sure if I ever wanted to go back.

Rupert Jean Franz

I was in my room when I found out Cole had left. She had just took a plane and disappeared. Why would she run away? Running away is not the solution. You don't just run away from your problems. You conquer them. I just cannot believe she was just run away. As if she wasn't strong enough to face them.

Dafnie had texted me once. Merrick has given my phone a seizure. Everyone has been wondering, asking about.

And all I could think about was that Cole stayed here for me. She up and left the day we broke up. She was only here when we were together. That's sick. I couldn't even be friends with her because she was gone.

It almost feels as if she's dead, but she's not, and that's so much worse. Because I know she's alive and she can come here and love me but she won't.

She won't.

"Fuck," I huffed, running my hands down my face.

And my best friend impregnated my ex. A girl I wanted to be with but never had the chance to. He took her virginity and made her a mother in the same night. Sick bastard.

"Rupert, I'm going to the office, want to join?" It was my father, a way of trying to comfort me. I enjoyed going to work with him... but not today.

"I'm gonna stay home, but thanks."

"Alright son, text me if anything."

I told him what was going on, so he knew that he could leave me alone in peace. He stepped away from my door and left down the stairs. I decided to get off my bed and do something. I needed to leave the house. I've been cooped up here long enough.

I decided to text Merrick, maybe he'd like to come over.

Yo, what's up?

Walking over to my laptop, I flipped it open and went on Facebook. There were a few notifications, invited to parties, comments. I looked through them, accepting a few party invites. One stuck out from the rest, it was from Dafnie.



Oh my. This had to be way before she left. Wow, Cole honestly is a great person. I hit accept without even thinking. Dafnie might not even be having this party anymore, or even if she was having it, she wouldn't want me there. Because, fuck, it's me for God's sake. Dafnie and I have a complicated relationship.

Maybe it's a good time to tell you.

It started in Freshman year when we were all new and excited. Two months into the school year Jessie threw this huge celebratory party for us getting into the fun years, high school. I met Dafnie there. She was cute, funny, and a girl I really wanted to bone. I had to be honest. So, I got her number off her guy friend, the one that she came with, Paul. He was cool with it, thought I'd be a good guy. Hey, Paul and I were pretty good friends at the time.

So, when I got her number, we texted for a few days until we went on a date and it was cute. She was shy, yet herself, a little mean. But, I liked it. After that we started getting more intimate. I would hug her, but she hated the cuddling and touching. She wasn't much of a touchy-feely girl, but we dealt with it. I found out she was a virgin when she was with me. She definitely didn't act like one. But it was fine. We got more intimate.

After two weeks we ended things because I hit on her cousin and she didn't like it. A week later we got back together and I took her virginity that very night.

I'll be honest, I wasn't the best guy. I wouldn't text her that often anymore. I used to text her like crazy, all the time. But then, I stopped. I'm not even sure why, Probably because I was seeing other girls as well.

Whatever.

After that, we just hooked up practically every time we saw each other, mostly at Paul's place, once at hers. After a while we finished things again because our mutual friend Katy was not having it. She didn't like that we were seeing each other.

But, we got back again and that lasted only a few days. She ended things. Paul caught us having sex on his couch and she felt so sick about it... she left and never came back.

This was all in a span of two months.

And now every time I see her I feel sick because, I missed a good one. She was so good. After me, she turned really bad though.

I don't think I'm the right guy to tell you this. So, I won't.

But, I know she will never forget me, I was her first. Here's the thing, I will never forget her because, she was the one that got away.

My phone vibrated and I checked, seeing a reply from Merrick.

You're alive!

I press a hand to my stomach, and right where the tips of my index and middle finger met the skin, there was a knot. A baby. A fetus growing inside of me. I never even thought about having children, let alone during school. I screwed up, but I wouldn't be the same as my mother. I wouldn't hate this child just because it ruined me. No.

"Your mother is going back to London, but I'm staying," My father smiled at me from the dining table. "We have a lot of catching up to do, after all."

"Has she already left?" I ask, hoping that she had. I didn't want to face her again. Not anytime soon, anyways.

Dad nods, and lifts a magazine off the table, which just so happens to be last Monday's addition of The Daily Buzz, "You never kept magazines."

"What?" I frown, and glance over at him. Right. I never did keep magazines. It just so happened that that particular one had pictures from an exclusive photoshoot, and articles over Pregnancy. "Oh. It...I don't know. I guess I forgot to put it in the stack."

"You know," He starts, and sets the magazine down. "It's great that you're finally standing up to your mother, but it's unacceptable to say what you said to her. I understand she's been hard on you, honey, but you've been hard on her, as well."

"Please don't tell me you're taking her side again," I groan, as I readjust the strap of my sling. "I know what I said is disrespectful, okay? But she just...I can't stand her sometimes."

Dad cracks one of his dazzling Dad smiles and reclines in his chair, "I can relate. She drives me nuts sometimes with her constant, 'We have to go here,' and 'Michael, don't do this, don't do that, you're embarrassing me.' Damn woman."

I can't help but laugh. He never spoke of her that way, not even in front of me. It was different. But I liked it. After a few seconds, I calm down, and let out a sigh, "She won't disown me, will she? I mean...she's been threatening to ever since I can remember."

"Hard to say," He shrugs, and pushes a hand through his graying hair. "If she does, just know that you won't be on your own. I'm your dad, J. Dad's don't disown princesses."

"Princesses aren't reckless," I frown, and lean against the table. "As much as I despise mom, I can't...I don't want her to leave me."

"A princess can be reckless," He offers, and drops his hand back on the table. "As long as they're not stupid. How do you feel about being pregnant, J?"

I shrug now, and fiddle with the strap of my sling, "I don't know. I'm a little tired right-"

"Not like that, Jessie. I meant how you feel about getting pregnant." He interrupts, though his voice is still calm. His patience was one of the things I'd always loved, mostly because my mother had none.

"Oh," I glance down and refrain from meeting his icy gaze, "I...a little useless, I suppose. I mean, I never TRY to disappoint mom, but this? She'll hate me even more now, no doubt."

"Jessie, she didn't-" He shakes his head, and releases a sigh. "Are you hungry? I could go for a burger."

"No, I'm...I don't have an appetite. There's a nice little diner that makes great burgers down on the corner of Ellington Street," I offer, and turn to glance at the clock on the wall. "They close in an hour. I need to get some stuff done, so it'd be fine if you went."

"Trying to get rid of me?" Dad chuckles, and hops up from his seat. "I'll take your- oh, dammit, nevermind. I forgot. Sorry, honey. We'll get the car situation fixed tomorrow. I'll call Robert."

I nod, and pick up the magazine from the table, then sniffle as Dad kisses me on the cheek, slips on his jacket, then leaves the house. I didn't want to get anything done. I actually felt terrible. It was great that my dad was here- he always succeeded in bringing me to my feet and making me feel better. But I think, well...I probably felt bad because of the hormones, or whatever. I'd stayed up late last night reading articles in the magazine over sickness when pregnant, and all that stuff, and one of the things was that you'd sometimes lose your appetite.

I needed time to think, actually. What was I going to do? I needed friends. I needed support. Philip was out of the question- he'd already told me that I was on my own, which was a dick move. I haven't spoken to Val in over a week, so unless she'd heard the gossip at school, then she didn't even know that I was pregnant, which was fine with me. The less people that knew, the better.

With a sigh, I toss the magazine back, and shake my head, "I suppose karma did come back and bite me in the ass."

A few years before, I'd gotten into an argument with Isabelle, because I had thrown a pencil at her for calling me explicit names. The pencil had made a hole in one of her 'most favorite shirts' and she'd told me that I'd 'regret doing that when karma bites me in the ass.' Well, I guess she was right. Although, I don't exactly regret throwing the pencil. I hated her shirt.

As I reach forward to grab the spray bottle from the counter, so I can clean off the table, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I sigh again. Didn't feel like talking to anyone again. I pull it out, anyways, and glance at the caller ID. Well, shit.

I wait a few more seconds, then slide the screen to the right, and hold the phone to my ear, "What?"

Spoiler! :

Eh. I didn't really have anything interesting in here, and I wanted to write more, but you guys are probably waiting for me to finally post, so here! I don't care who it is calling, so you're free to make it your own character that's calling her. I'll be working on Collin's post now, so bye! (EDIT- IT'S SHORTER THAN I THOUGHT EUGH. OH WELL, SORRY GUYSSS. I'LL MAKE MY NEXT POST LONGER.)

Isabelle

Paul never came back that night. I guess he was with Dafnie, that two faced bitch. I sighed, lying on his bed, I looked through my phone log. I decided to call and talk to Jessie, if she would pick up.

The phone rang and she answered on the third ring,

"What?" She said.

"Jes. I did tell you that karma was a bitch, right?" I asked her, and couldn't help but laugh.

"Did you really call me just to tell me that?" She asked, it sounded like it made her angry.

I sighed through the phone, "Jes, I called to tell you Congratulations. I'm not that much of a bitch am I?" I asked her.

There was silence on the other end of the phone, I didn't know what that meant,

"Listen, I need you right now." I finally admitted.

Jessie sounded like she was kind of laughing, "Do you think we are that good of even people to actually hang out right now?" she asked, annoyed.

Tears streaked my eyes, "Not really, but you are the only person I trust that would be up front with me." I cried out.

Another silence.

"Fine. I'll meet you somewhere. But no where with food, I'm not feeling too good right now." she replied.

My eyes instantly dried up, I guess it was because I knew I could talk to her and it would help me out. A lot.

We hung up the phone and I dried my eyes, after her wreck, she didn't exactly have a car to drive. I agreed to come pick her up and we would go talk out at the park.

----

The drive there was full of silence, I was just ready to talk to Jessie already. Finally pulling in her drive way I honked my horn, she must have been close to the door because she was walking out within seconds.

"Thank you for meeting me." I finally say as I drive out of her driveway. She nodded and I drove about a mile down the road, the park was on sort of like a dead end street.

We got out of the car and I pulled out a bag of chips and my drink, I was desperate. Along with that, I had stopped by the store to get a baby gift.

"Here you go." I say and hand it to her. Her eyes narrowed, she knew that I pulled pranks sometimes.

"It's a gift. Not a prank." I say.

She opened it up and pulled out a yellow and white onesie. It was for either gender, and I thought it was adorable.

She smiled, I didn't know if she liked it or not, but she took it.

"I'm sorry you are going through this," I begin.

Looking over at the trees, I thought about my past. Jessie used to be this genuine carefree girl, but, since we were younger, she has changed; a lot.

"and I'm sorry you might be doing it alone. But, I will be here if you need anything." I told her.

She took in a deep breath and just blew out. I guess she had been deep in thought.

"So how are you and Paul?" she asked.

Instantly, I was in tears, just the mention of his name makes me have waterworks.

"Bad! You didn't hear that we broke up?"

She shook her head, that was a surprise, I figured everyone would know by now.

"He.. he cheated on me with Dafnie, he kissed her while I was in the same damn house but in a different room. It was like he wanted to get caught or something." I cried.

My heart ached.

Cole
How could you leave without saying goodbye? My phone buzzed just as I got off the plane. It was from Rupert, of course, and a few others who had no idea I was going to France. Thorne, Daf, even Hunter seemed concerned.

I'd left for several reasons, one because I needed to get away from the drama and spend some time with my family, but also because there was a doctor there who was convinced she could help me.

My cousin, Adrian met me at the terminal. his brown hair fell into his face and he brushed it out of the way as he came to greet me, wrapping me in his arms.

"Hey, Cole," He said, kissing me on both cheeks and taking my bags.

"Ade, I missed you!" Of course, we were conversing in French. He took my hand, pulling my bag with him and lifting it into the cab once we got outside. I was wheeling myself alongside him, people stared strangely at me but I didn't care. Adrian and I were best friends. We had gone to the same school and played together when we were little and I knew I could count on him.

Ade helped me get into the cab whcih had been designed specifically for handicaps and wheelchairs.

"When is the appointment with the surgeon?" he asked me.

"Tomorrow," I said, exhaling and feeling weighted down. My body was sore and tired from flying and from sitting in the chair the entire time. Usually at home I was able to drag myself out to sit on the sofa but the flight attendants insisted I stay sitting.

We arrived at Adrian's apartment since Carol, the girl I'd exchanged with, was staying in my bedroom at home. He tucked me in, dragging my bag into the room I was staying in.

"Goodnight, Colette," and he closed the door, letting me sleep.

***

The next morning I wake up for my Doctor's appointment on time and Adrian helped me get in and out of the shower and get dressed. He seemed unfazed by my nudity but at the same time, considerate of my modesty.

The Hospital wasn't far, so we walked, taking in the sights and smells of Paris. There were little shops and vendors on the streets and for the first time in forever, I felt at home. Still, a part of me longed for Lincoln Wood. For America and their odd customs.

Adrian pushed me in the wheelchair, dodging people on the streets and inside the hospital. As soon as I got out, the Nurse came to meet me as I couldn't reach the receptionist's desk. As soon as I filled out the necessary paperwork, she took me back into a room and began entering my information into a computer. I asked Adrian to come back with me.

"So... what are my chances of being operated on succesffuly?" I asked this cautiously, I'd heard a little bit about this Doctor. He'd made revolutionary breakthroughs on paralysis. The nurse looked at me and smiled, the bright whites of her teeth contrasted her caramel brown skin.

"Dr. Belgard has had amazing breakthroughs with paralysis. He'll explain it when he comes in in just a few minutes. But he's operated on almost 300 people in the past 5 years which isn't many, but he's had a 75% success rate. Like I said, he'll be able to give you more information. I just need to check your vitals." The pressure cuff she put on my right arm felt funny, and I barely felt it on my left arm.

The nurse did other things. She checked my lungs, took my height and weight and did a reflex test on both legs. Nothing happened on the left side of my body when she tapped my knee.

After she took down my information she stepped out for a few minutes and I turned to look at Adrian.

"Ade, I'm scared." I said, taking his hand in mine.

"I know," He said reassuringly, his warm brown eyes smiling into mine, "But it's gonna be okay. I love you Cole, I really missed you. I'm so glad you came back, even for a little while. You needed to be with your family." He gave me a hug just as the nurse poked her head in through the door.

"The Doctor will see you now,"

Adrian


The Doctor walked in I could tell that his stressful proffession had not been kind to him. His hair was graying and he had bags under his eyes as well as what looked like a stiff back. Ironic for a spinal surgeon.

Neverthless, he smiled at Cole. This didn't seem to do anything to help her nerves because she gripped my palm with her good hand even tighter, making me wince slightly.

"Hello, Colette," He said, "How are you?"

"I've been better," she says politely, "Sir, could we talk about the operation?"

"Absolutely. The Nurse gave me your clipboard and it looks like you're elligible for the operation if you decide to go through with it." Cole's grip relaxed and she exhaled.

"Could you tell me how it works?"

"Certainly. You are partially paralyzed because when you got in the car accident, one of your vertabrae pierced and partially severed your spinal cord. Because of the partial injury, you only experienced paralysis on your left side. Now your vertebrae has healed as much as it possibly could have and so has your spinal cord but it's impossible for it to heal completely, so most of your nerves are still damaged."

I looked at Cole and saw her nodding along with the Doctor. It seemed pretty straightforward to her, as if she'd heard it a million times. I supposed it was, but it had been my first time hearing about it.

"I've performed an operation on quite a few people that has been life changing. There are these things called OECs which help your ability to move and feel. I've taken OEC's from the spinal cells of rats and injected them into others and have been very successful with my results."

Cole's face scrunched up, I could tell that she wasn't fond of this idea, but wanted the paralysis gone. Or as gone as it could be.

"What's your success rate?" She asked.

"For people with 50% paralysis? I usually manage 80% mobility within the first 6 weeks. I've had a 75% success rate and that number is steadily increasing."

"Sir," Cole said, "I've seen Doctors, some of the best spinal surgeons live in California which is a few hours from where I am and none of them said they could help me. What makes you so different?"

"I'm willing to take risks. And I'm less worried about the money in my pocket and more worried about my patients."

That's where I cut in. "Risks?" I asked hesitantly.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I have a 75% success rate. But the thing is, 10% of my patients were completely paralyzed. 15% ended up dead."

Sitting at a Starbucks having coffee, I wondered How much longer Abraham would have before his cancer finally killed him. The thought made me sad for some reason. Ever since he'd been diagnosed, something in him changed. Well, of course he'd changed. His once jet black hair was now completely gray and coarse. With patients who undergo chemotherapy, their hair usually falls out. His didn't. Agatha wanted to cut it, but he wouldn't let her. A man who once stood at a proud and imposing six foot three inches, and surprisingly fit for a man of sixty five with a wide frame, now severely hunched over and forced to walk with a cane or wheeled around in a chair. Where strong muscles once were, had now withered, leaving behind only fragile bones riddled with pain from arthritis and cancer. One thing that had changed the most was his face. Even in his sixties, he looked like he was in his early fifties. The lines on his face were much more pronounced, giving the appearance of a man in his late seventies. His eyes looked like they'd sunken into his eye sockets, such a deep purple they were almost black. The skin around his cheeks looked like they'd been been tight and making his cheekbones look sharper and more pronounced. The color of his skin had gone from lightly tanned to a pale pallor, the overall effect giving him a gaunt appearance.

Nothing about his appearance effected me the way it used to. His deathly pale skin and frail body used to scare me. There was only one thing about him that always struck me to the bone, and that was his eyes, once a bottomless and acutely aware Obsidian, now dull and muted. Nothing but pain, suffering, and regret rest there, but only when he looked into my eyes. I would always still for a moment when our gazes locked, and my heart would stutter in my chest as fear would set in. Though gone was the malice and disgust that used to be in his eyes when he looked at me, I was always afraid- still am afraid- it would come back. Every time he would look at me, he seemed to want to say something, but then decide it best not to, or Agatha would some how interfere. It made me wonder what he had to say.

Pulling my phone out, I looked at the time. I wouldn't be needed back at the house until later in the evening. All of my homework was done, and I didn't have a tutoring session scheduled for today, so my day was completely free. It had been so long, I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I would go shopping, but I hate shopping. I wasn't sure what Dafnie was doing, but she might still be sulking over the whole Paul thing, so I would just leave her be for a little longer before talking to her. I had no idea what time it was in France, and I didn't want to wake Cole if she was sleeping, so I would just wait for her to call me. She left without saying good bye anyone, so all I could do was wait until she was ready to reach out anyway. I would text Rupert, but I was pretty sure he was mad at me for not telling anyone about Agatha or asking for help, so he's out of the picture for now. As for Merrick, I didn't even have his number. Biting my lower lip, I consider my options for the day, which are none. I have no idea what to do.

Just as I contemplate leaving, a rather large shadow slides over me. When I saw who it was, I almost fell out of my chair. That same dark chestnut hair and warm golden brown eyes from the grocery store.

"Is this seat taken?" he motioned to the one across from me.

My mouth couldn't form words, so I just nodded, fiddling with my cup as he sat down. Taking a sip of my now lukewarm coffee, I looked everywhere but at him. He just sat there with that same warm smile, and I couldn't help smiling back, my cheeks warming.

"Hi," I nibbled my lower lips as I looked him.

"I was hoping I would see you again." he nodded. "I'm glad you're ok. I was worried about you."

"No need to worry," I tell him. "As you can see, i'm alive and well."

The look on his face told me he wasn't convinced. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table and steepling his fingers together.

"Ever since I saw you that day," he began. "I couldn't help thinking about you."

"Why?" I frown.

"The look on your face when I handed you the tissue," he said, and my frown deepened.

What about my nose bleed?

"When someone realizes they're nose is bleeding, they react." he looked at me. "You didn't. That means this has happened often enough that you're used to it."

I looked down at my coffee. "Your point?"

"No one should be used to such treatment, or have to endure something like that at such a young age." he frowned at me.

I didn't say anything to that. There was no point. The sadness in his eyes as he looked at me made me want to scream. Looking back at my cup, I said, "I don't want to talk about it."

He frowned once more, about to sap something.

"Please?" I wiped away a stray tear. "I just can't."

He sighed, not knowing what else he could do at the moment. He changed the subject. "I never got your name. Mine is Garrick."

"Hawthorne."

"Well, Hawthorne." Garrick pulled out a piece of paper and slid across the table. "I have to go now, but here's my number. Call me if you ever need anything."

I took the piece of paper and stuck it in my pocket as he stood. "I really hope you call."

I smiled at him, knowing it didn't really reach my eyes. Leaning down ever so slowly, he kissed me on the top of my head, turned, and left. The tears flowed freely down my face as I watched his car disappear into traffic, leaving me here with only my sadness to keep me company.

After finishing my cup of now completely cold coffee and drying my tears, I pulled out my phone to check the time again. The began buzzing in my hand as it went off, Cole's name blinking on the screen.

"Hey Cole!" I answered. "I was wondering when you would call. What's up?"

[WITHDRAWN]

Collin!

Sunlight streamed through the small crack he considered a window. A sort of breeze drifted through it, making the otherwise lukewarm room feel off.

Collin pulls the last outfit from the now gone mountain of costumes, which was a black and white one piece romper that was intended to be worn with a 7 foot long cape he'd fixed earlier, and brings it to the edge of the sewing machine. His hands hurt. His arms hurt. He wanted to go home and sleep for a few hours. Collin grabbed a pair of scissors, snipped the hems open, then tossed the scissors back and began placing pins where he would sew. He was so used to doing this, he didn't even have to think about what to do next. His hands moved on their own, doing their own things. He felt accomplished.

After pinning along the sides, he smiles with satisfaction, and glances at his watch. A few hours before his show, Fashion Is My Passion, came on. Collin presses his foot down gently and pushes the romper forward, making sure to keep the lines straight. He did this five times, then turned it over and patched up the small hole that had obviously been made by someone finger. It was so disrespectful- ruining a piece of clothing that somebody had put their best work into. He felt ashamed to go to school here, where clothes were only used for popularity, and not for it's beauty. Clothing was looked at as a sign of leadership. Who was dressed the best? Who's shoes were cuter? Why did people care so much about this?

After sewing together the last part, Collin releases the pedal under his foot, and let's out a sigh of relief.

Collin holds the romper up to the light, and with a nod of approval, tosses it to the side to rest in the mountain of costumes. It'd been days since he'd first started on them, and he was finally done. Thanks to the number burning a hole in his pocket, he'd had motivation to get done sooner. That motivation? Getting to talk to Adah.

Adah was magnificent. She was always in the shadows, though. Her art skills were phenomenal, yet she acted as if it were nothing. But he wanted to get to know her more. He wanted to know the girl that lip sync'd to Taylor Swift, that wanted to go out for ice cream in the middle of winter, that never admitted that she was good enough. He wasn't just fascinated by her, like he was with the Foreign girl, Cole. No. He was inspired by her. He adored the soft curve of her jaw line, he was awed by the perfect turn of her nose, he was just simply amazed by everything about her.

'A cursed soul never earns a cleansed one.' Something his mother had once told him, but she'd always referred to the 'cursed soul' as his father, whom he didn't know, and the 'cleansed one' him. Supposedly, his father had wanted custody of him for years, just so his mother wouldn't have him, and she'd always tell him that his father would never get him, therefore explaining the saying 'a cursed soul never earns a cleansed one.'

Collin sighs heavily, turns the sewing machine off, then hops up from his chair and leaves the large, yet oddly comfortable, room. It was, what, 5 in the afternoon? He still had a few hours until sundown, which was when Monica wanted him home. As he begins to head out of the building, his pocket begins to buzz, and he has to stop for a second to try and figure out where the source of the buzzing. Once he remembers he has a phone, he slips it out of his pocket, and stares at the name flashing on the screen. Adah. Calling. Adah was calling him.

He quickly swipes the screen, answering the phone, and holds it to his ear, "H-hello? Adah?"

"Collin? Hey," Her smooth, calming, yet bubbly, voice chirps into the phone. "I was just going to see what you were up to."

"I'm..." Collin pauses, and forces himself to think straight. "Not doing anything, actually. Why?"

"There's an Art Gallery tonight, downtown," Adah says, and he can't help but feel excited- his mom was telling him about that the day before. "I didn't want to go alone, so I figured you'd want to come."

"Like-" He stops himself from saying, 'like a date?' and sticks with, "Yeah, I'm up for it. I'm actually leaving the school now. Just finished all of the costumes."

"You did? That's great, Collin!" She says, and he can hear the enthusiasm in her voice. It was great. "I can pick you up, if you want?"

"Actually-" He thinks for a second, then shrugs. "Yeah, okay. But I have to stop by my house to get some things, and change."

"I don't know what to do, Isabelle," I cry, and press a hand to my forehead. We'd come here to talk about her and what she was going through, but I couldn't help it. She had already finished, and I hugged her, and we cried, and now I wanted to talk. So I did. "I'm so god damn scared. Philip doesn't want anything to do with me. I don't have anyone except for my Dad- and, well, you- but...I don't know. I...I was pregnant with twins. I didn't tell you that. Only my parents know. But...after I got into the wreck, it...I damaged the other fetus. It didn't make it. I didn't let it live. I took away a life that could've been. And I'm so angry with myself for fucking up."

She didn't even say anything. Isabelle just wrapped me back into her arms, and I let the tears go. I didn't try to contain them. Right now I just wanted to cry and talk and forget about everything that has happened in the past few weeks.

"I don't know what to do," I manage to say in between sobs. "Will you help me, Isabelle?"

"I'll help you, J," Isabelle murmurs, and I'd never felt more safe in my life. Isabelle used to be a great friend. I remember. She always stuck up for me. She protected me from bullies. And now, she agreed to help me get through this when nobody else would. "It's okay."

I listened to her voice. Her reassuring words. And I cried more. She cared. Somebody cared. I wasn't alone. I had a friend.

After a few minutes, I managed to calm down, and Isabelle's embrace loosened. I wriggled out of her arms, and wiped at my face. I probably looked horrible, but Isabelle didn't seem to care.

"Your dad," I say after a second, and her head snaps toward me quickly. "He's hurting you, isn't he?"

"I-I...of course not. That's crazy," She scowls, but I could tell she was lying. Her lip quivered. Her left eyebrow twitched, like it did when she wasn't telling the truth. "Where'd you get that idea?"

I reach out, and grab her wrist. She's resistant at first, but gives up after a second, allowing her body to go slack, as if she'd given up everything. I turn her arm over, and on her upper arm, there's faint finger outlines. As if somebody had grabbed her really hard.

"Jessie-" Her voice broke, and it was the most heart breaking thing I'd ever heard. I wanted to help her, just as she'd helped me. I wanted her to smile that devilish smile. I didn't want to see my friend in pain. It was then that I decided to ask something I wouldn't have even thought about asking a month ago.

"Do you want to move in with me?" The words leave my mouth without my consent, but I don't stop them. Her situation was dangerous. She didn't deserve the treatment she was receiving. Nobody did. "Please. I live alone, but my dad is staying for awhile, just to help out. I have an extra room. You don't even have to pay rent. I'm begging you, Isabelle."

She shakes her head, and I can see her eyes welling back up with tears. "I can't. He won't let me."

"You don't need his permission. Threaten him. Stand up to him. Tell him you'll call the cops. I'll even go with you. But I...I don't know. I want to help you. This seems like the right thing to do." I say, and a sincere look glazes over her eyes.

Isabelle pauses, then glances away, "I don't know."

"Then..." I stop, and think for a second. "Just come to my house tonight. Stay the night with me. It'll be fun. Plus, it's past eleven. You'd probably get in trouble if you went home now, right?"

Isabelle cracks a smile, and nods, "Probably."

"Then let's go. I'm sure my Dad would like the see the child he once knew as Issa."

Adah

@Shiney

"You know Harry Potter?"

"Of course I know Harry Potter! What's your point?"

"Remember in the, um, I think it was the fourth book, when Ron drinks that luck potion and thinks he can do anything?"

"Total placebo, but yeah."

"I think I might have had one of those, and it's wearing off."

"... I don't understand."

"I think I just asked Collin on a date."

Jules' screeching renders me incapable of thoughts for a minute. "That's great! You've been talking about this guy for, like, two weeks now, I'm glad you actually made a move."

I think she just wants me to get in a relationship so she won't feel so bad about being madly in love. It doesn't do much for my self-confidence in this situation. I also don't tell her that two weeks really isn't that long of a time, especially since my last crush lasted two years, and nothing ever came out of that.

"It's not exactly a move, per se. We're just going to an art show."

The silence on the other end makes me nervous, and my heart starts going. There's no reason for it, but I get worried anyway.

Jules comes back on. "Wear something cute for me, Adah. I've got to go. Good luck!" I hear someone elses voice, a little girl, and she hangs up.

Wear something cute for me? I stare into the void that is my closet, mentally sorting through rows of clothes that are mostly Hayah's. If I dress for Jules, I will most likely make a fool out of myself in too-short dresses and statements I don't believe in. I can't dress for Collin because, like, what does that even mean? That means, of course, that I have to dress for me. For real this time, not what I wear to school, but what I actually want to be. And all I have is five minutes.

------------------


I drive too fast to the school, because I don't want Collin to think I forgot about him. When I pull up, he is waiting outside. He awkwardly peers inside, as though trying to tell if it is me or not, and I have to wave at him equally in an equally painful response.

He comes to the side of my (mom's) car, gets in.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Neither of us says anything, and I don't know if he's looking at me, but it takes me probably to long to go, "Where am I headed?"

"Oh!" (This reaction makes me think he was looking at me. Was he looking at me?) "Just take Baker's to Elmore, left onto Oak. I'll tell you where to stop."

I follow his instructions to a small apartment complex. Colin hurridly gets out, He runs up into his apartment, and I am left to awkwardly play with radio, flying through stations until all the music becomes a blur. I don't know what I should choose to listen to.

Colin comes back pretty quickly, and I like watching him descend down the stairs. He dresses well, of course, and everything he wears seems to have such feeling. He looks nice, in a suit vest and bowtie. I appreciate the symmetry, the choice of color... the art. I feel like I'm a boy watching his date descend down stairs in a cheezy teen movie.

He smiles at me, so wide. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," I say, but I feel like I've already seen the making of a lot of art today.

***************

The show is downtown, and it takes me a few scary moments to find a parking spot. We both get out of the car, and the wind sweeps my dress around me. I feel polka dots turning blurry through the rain, and know I will regret the choice of my hair being down very soon. I adjust my beanie, shield my face from the slight rain.

"I didn't bring an umbrella!" I say, as though it weren't obvious.

"Me either!" He says, standing there getting wet in his nice slacks, as though it weren't obvious.

We run for the doors of the art center, and I have to laugh a little as we duck inside. The lights are shining, too bright, and fancy adults wander around with noses stuck up to far I doubt they see any art. There are others, hipsters and hippies, and middle-aged parents that might have been one of those two such a long time ago.

I look over at Colin, and instead of being captured by the towering ceiling, he is smiling at me.

This is my first date.

A man takes our coats, smiling at us. "Modern art is that way, kids. Paintings straight ahead. The two of you have a wonderful date, okay?"

Neither of us bother to correct him, even though we never agreed that that it actually was.

This is my first date!

The warehouse is beautiful. There are work stations in here somewhere. Paintings are in the fancier part, where meetings for whatever this place used to be were held. The modern art is a bit older, rougher part of the building. I've been here a few times, though the stuff inside is always changing, I undertsand more than the starry-eyed Colin. I have an urge to take is hand and drag him along, but have to stick to verbal urgings.

We fly through paintings surprisingly fast. There are a few I like, but most of them are landscapes or splatterings and I just don't feel anything when I look at them. Colin stops to mutter about dresses in front of one. I'm antsy.

Colin is just as impressed by the modern art, and it takes all my strength not to drag him to the one I cam here for.

"This one is my favorite." I announce.

The two of stand in front of strands of silk falling from the ceiling, all different thicknesses and color, thousands of them.

"That's awesome."

"Not yet." I do it, then. I take his hand, and pull him into the mess of silk before dropping it. There is silk in front of my face, in my hair. It's so soft, so thin but so full all together. I can see the light, coming in thin strands through the silk.

I look at Colin, and he is laughing.

This is my first date.

"What's next?"

Cole

"Well," I said, "I'm in France." I was on the phone with Thorne.

"Yeah, " she chuckled, "I gathered that."

"Listen I..." I swallowed, "They might be able to fix me."

"Cole, what are you talking about?" she asked, I could almost hear her eyebrows raising. "You don't need to be fixed. Do you mean the paralysis?"

"Yeah. There's a Doctor here who thinks he can operate on me successfully. But I'm not sure if I should or not."

"Well, what's the problem?"

I paused, "It's risky," I said, finally.

"How?" I could hear the curiosity in her voice.

"There's..." My voice broke, "There's a good chance I might end up dead. Or fully paralyzed."

"You should do what feels right. I mean, You've been doing well already, you've only just now gotten used to everything. What if you end up dead? Or paralyzed completely? It's been hard enough for you. But then again I know you really miss art and being able to be independent. You have to weigh the good with the bad."

"I'm just not sure what to do. I'm really scared right now." She exhaled but was silent, thinking of what to say.

"I guess you have to think about it like this. Would you rather be dead than the way you are now?" She had a point, too. I sighed.

"I'm not really sure." I said, I had no idea what to do.

"Have you even talked to Rupert about this yet?" She asked.

"Why would I talk to Rupert? He dumped me after two weeks and didn't really even tell me why."

"Yeah Cole," she said, "And then you took off without telling him why after a mega blowup with Jessie."

I had no idea how to respond to that. "Thorne... I don't know what to do, I have to go."

"Okay. But tell Rupert. If you don't and you die... or worse... I think you'll regret it." I hung up after that, thoughts running through my brain. Telling Rupert hadn't even crossed my mind. He broke up with me and yeah, Thorne was right. I did take off. But he broke up with me so I didn't think he'd even really care.

But then again. If there was any chance he still wanted to be with me, I needed to know.

So I sent a text from my phone. To Rup.

We need to talk. There's something big happening and I need to talk to you before I make any decisions. Is there a time when you're willing to call me? Or even text me?