chapter 41 - the day we wore black

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
Talia:
By lunchtime on Wednesday, I've given up hope that Grayson will be attending school this week. 
Monday was quiet. Tuesday was quieter, especially sitting through art class without my favorite art assistant. I never thought I would miss Grayson's poorly drawn objects or mixed colors. 
He made it very clear he needed space.
I don't even want to fucking look at you right now.
The words hurt more than I would have liked them to. I tried to brush them aside and blame them on the circumstances, but the statement kept repeating in my mind. After each time, I found myself wincing a little harder. 
Everything about his behavior was so foreign to me, it shocked me whenever I unintentionally relived that moment within the past few days. He was so distant. So far away that I felt I would never be able to pull him back to me. I want to be there for him, but then the words keep playing back, the uneasy feeling grows, and I become more and more afraid of his behavior. 
Have I given up on him? No. Definitely no. All I want is for Grayson to be strong enough to let me in, and it seems as if waiting is the only possible way for that to occur. Waiting is my worst enemy, and Grayson's greatest ally. 
Rowan and Jake sit at the lunch table alone, both of their heads down with a quiet conversation passing between them. Their mood is also affected by his absence. Naturally, I'm drawn to them. Like calls to like. 
"Hi," I say once I'm at the end of the rectangular table. I tightly hold my lunch bag in front of my body with two hands.
They look up. I wish they didn't, because then I wouldn't have to see the pain that rests in their eyes. 
"Hey," Jake speaks first. Rowan manages to nod as a greeting. 
It's Jake who moves over to offer me a seat beside him. I think back to the time I first sat at their group's table, in which Jake insisted I should sit next to Rowan because Jake wanted to be next to Grayson. Grayson intimidated him enough that his friend was forced to give up his seat for me, just so I could sit next to Grayson. Just as he wanted. 
I wonder if Grayson would offer me the seat next to him now.
I don't want you here. 
I mentally cringe. 
"H-how is Grayson doing?" I ask once seated. I don't even bother opening my lunch for my non-existent appetite. 
Rowan pokes at his own food, his head hung low. He stays quiet. 
"Not good," Jake says honestly. 
There's an awkward pause. 
"He refuses to see me," Jake adds. No food sits in front of him, only a bottle of water. "I try seeing him after school, but he always says the same thing: 'not today."'