The Scars She Hides

Part 11 - Trade

CHARLOTTE

While I walked towards Holden's workshop, I realised two things.

One: That I didn't care who the person who ratted me out was... just that it wasn't Holden. I don't know why but the thought of him being the one to report on me to my therapist caused a sting in my chest. A little strike of hurt that cracked through the dense sadness and guilt that had taken permanent residency inside my body.

I rubbed my sternum roughly, not liking that particular revelation or the feelings that came with it.

Two: I was going to have to start taking my pills unless I could fool my good samaritan stalker into thinking I was complying with doctors' recommendations.

I had an idea how I was going to kill two birds with one stone. Whether it was a good idea or not... that was still up in the air.

Holden wouldn't appreciate me beating around the bush, he was a very 'get to the point' kind of guy. While working on his homework together, he had used that specific phrase towards me before. With a few choice curse words here and there. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of betrayal at the thought of it being Holden, I was going to have to just ask him point blank.

And I was great at that.

Not.

Beating around the bush was my specialty.

I entered the room by force, not hesitating in the doorway like my nerves would have me do. Holden was in his usual spot, doing his usual thing. Tinkering with his bits of metal wires. I walked between the two tables separating the room, on my left my usual work space and white board. On the right was Holden.

All that was running through my head was the Robert Froste quote.

"Two roads diverged into a wood and I- I took the one less travelled by, and that has made all the difference."

Two roads, two tables.

Two options.

Confront Holden.

Take the medication and forget about the darkness lingering in my mind.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs until it was almost uncomfortable in my chest.

And I took a seat.

Holden stiffened as I set my bag on the table between us. He didn't lift his eyes, but I could tell he was watching me from his peripheral vision. I was grateful for that, his stare would have made it hard to start the conversation. As it was, the words were already stuck in my throat, refusing to come out.

Holden did not resume his tinkering, becoming a statue as I slowly unzipped my bag and retrieved the final edit of his paper... pending any more "crucial information" added by Holden. I held the paper between my hands, studying all of my marks and comments scrawled across the page.

Another deep breath, filling myself to the point of bursting.

"We-" My voice croaked, and I winced. This was a great start. I swallowed thickly, and slowly looked across the table at Holden. He was watching me with a blank expression, no emotion in his eyes, or his usually expressive eyebrows.

I tried again. "We are... I mean- are we- friends?" I dropped my eyes at the word 'friends'. Regret was filling my head instantly and making my thoughts spin in circles. Faster and faster on an endless loop-

Take it back

Take it back

Take it back-

Holden was still staring at me. I could feel it, his brown eyes looking for any answers on my face. I clutched his paper harder between my hands. It's papers dug into my skin, threatening to cut my clammy fingers. I could feel the trembling start in my arms, moving down to my fingers.