When The Rain Stops (BXB)

Chapter 41

Tuesday's all a quiet blur. If that makes sense at all. Like, I knew I was doing things, but none of it was...with me being conscious of it. I pack up most of my things. The morning's was supposed to be for all of us to sit down and talk about what happened, except when they see Rory and me sitting across from each other not talking or looking at each other, it doesn't happen.

I hoard bagels and water in my room so I don't have to go downstairs, and no one stops me. I blast all my music, every good, bad, and embarrassing thing I have on my phone. I thought my parents would ask me to turn it down, but they don't. I don't know where they are.

I don't know where Rory is, either.

I go back to the club's chat. And after sorting through all my other notifications of people asking me if I'm dead, if I'm okay (which I never want to hear again. Ever), and deleting Evan's messages, my first message to everyone is telling them I'm alive still.

Which prompts everyone to spam me messages. Even though I'm trying to read through the, like, thousand other ones.

Natalie fills me in on everything. Paige and Owen had a housewarming party for everyone. Harrison finished fixing the car with his dad, and then gave it to him. Everett's working on his own trashy romance novel, which "he's so ridiculously proud of it that he won't let anyone read it until it's done". Tucker got a job at the gas station and is fucking forced to talk (THERE'S A VIDEO OF IT TOO AND IT'S REALLY WEIRD BUT HE'S GOT A QUIETER VOICE THAN HARRISON AND IT'S REALLY WEIRD). Natalie's surgery is scheduled for next January, and Paige has already decided she's throwing a "before-" and "afterparty" for her.

I want to be happy for her. I really do. And I feel like such an asshole for not being happy for her.

I just text back okay and that's really it.

Which prompts her to ask if I'm okay.

For fuck's sake.

Harrison's messaged me a couple times outside the group chat. It's just the same "text me if you want to talk" message a couple times in a row.

I don't write back.

I don't remember Tuesday.

Our train out of Aberford is 11:55 sharp. Dad packs our suitcases into the back of Mr. Harwood's truck, and we eat brunch. They must've went out shopping yesterday because there's everything you can imagine – bacon, eggs (scrambled and sunny-side-up), waffles, french toast, pancakes, cereal. It's like the last meal of someone on death row.

Rory comes out to eat.

No one talks. And by that, I mean it's all small talk. It doesn't matter. It's to fill the space.

"Jackson..." Rory whispers, tugging on my shirt. His voice is low and hoarse, like he's been screaming for too long. "Can we, uh...can we talk?"

I put my plate down on the counter and follow him out the back door towards the barbecue pit.

It's a sunny day. A ridiculously sunny day. No clouds in the sky. How summer should've been.

Rory turns to me and steps back. Already he looks like he's going to break down and cry. "Don't...please don't go back."

I don't answer. I don't know what to say, anyway.

"Jack, please."

Glaring at him seems like the right thing to do.

"Jack."

"Why're you so far away from me?"

He's a good foot away from me, arms crossed against his chest like he's fucking cold. Rory shifts back and forth from one foot to another. He swallows whatever's in his mouth and shakes his head. "Why's that what matters right now?"