*POV Gemma*
I sit on the edge of my bed, my head dropped in my hands. My elbows rest on my knees, my hands entwined in my hair. Thoughts whiz through my mind.
Was it my fault? Was the accident my fault? It's possible. She was trying to help me. I'm the one who caused it. It's my fault. Guilt sinks into the pit of my stomach. It's my fault she nearly died. It's my fault she can't walk. I choke out a sob and tears roll down my cheeks.
I can't help it. It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts. It feels numb. Everything feels numb. I stare at the floor. I can feel my eyes glazing over. I don't care. I don't do anything about it. The world feels like it's behind a glass barrier.
"Gemma?"
I hear my name called a couple times. I don't look up. It doesn't feel like I can.
"Gemma," I hear another voice.
My mind is so fuzzy and numb, I can't tell who it is.
Then I feel arms around my shoulders. Tears keep falling- they haven't stopped. "What's going on in your mind, Gem?" I can hear Daniel's voice, soft and gentle, as he rubs my shoulders tenderly.
"I don't know," I choke out. "I don't know."
"What are you feeling?" Daniel asks. "Anger? Fear? Talk to me, Baby."
"I don't know," my voice rises in anxiety. "I don't know, I don't know. Stop asking me that." My voice is shaky. My breaths quiver as they come out.
"Gemma," Daniel sighs. "Please. Come on."
He's disappointed in me. I can't blame him. I'm disappointed in myself too. I'm the reason his sister is paralyzed.
"I have good news," Daniel prompts me.
I don't say anything. I don't do anything. It doesn't feel like I can.
"It's about Rina," Daniel says.
At this, I look up, somewhat quizzically. I can feel the tear streaks painted on my cheeks. They're cold.
"She can feel her legs," Daniel says, his eyes lit up. "And she can move a little bit."
I can't. No matter how much I try, no matter how much I push, I can't feel happy for her. I know I should- being able to feel her legs and move them is amazing for Rina, but I can't. I'm trying; I just can't.
Daniel peers at me, concerned. "Gemma?"
I don't respond.
"Oh, Gemma," Daniel pulls me into his arms, leaning back on the pillows behind him, with me wrapped in his muscular, football player arms. "I love you."
I can't bring myself to say it back, so I just nestle myself closer to him.
I don't know how or when, but I end up falling into a light sleep.
When my eyes open, Daniel is spinning in the chair in front of my desk, laughing like he's ten. Girls, if you're reading this, not every guy is going to take advantage of you. Pick the right one.
"Hey Gem," Daniel says. He stops spinning. "How are you doing?"
I give a slow nod, yawning. "Better."
He smiles. "That's good." He hands me two pills and a glass of water. "Your mom said to have you take these when you woke up."
I let them slide into my mouth. "What are they?"
"Antidepressants," Daniel says. "For PTSD. Your mom said they'd help."
I swallow a gulp of water. "They usually do. Thanks."
"I need your help," Daniel says.
I raise an eyebrow. "With what?"
"I want to find Joanna," Daniel says.
"We're not leaving that up to the police?" I ask.
"Rina's obsessed," Daniel says. "She has to know if Joanna's okay. I want to do this for her." His eyes are pleading with me. "Gem, please."
I stare at those pleading eyes. I can't say no. "You really want to do this?"
Daniel nods.
"Okay," I say. My hands shake. I tap my knee anxiously. It's a nervous habit.
I hear the front door open. I wince at the noise. It hurts my ears. Makes my head pound a little.
"Hey, Gemma?" Mom asks gently, poking her head in. "Come on. We're going to go somewhere."
"Please no," I say. "I can't-I don't- please."
"I'm sorry Baby," Mom says. "But you're going to have to. Come on, Baby."
I let Mom take my hand and slowly pull me. Daniel walks behind me. I motion to him. "Can he come?"
"Will he make you more comfortable?" Mom asks.
I nod.
"Alright," Mom says, slipping into the front seat.
My hands shake as I slip in the backseat. Anxiety rushes my head. And Bella's not here to stop it.
"Shhh," Daniel touches my arm.
A noise sounding a lot like a whine escapes me. Daniel pulls me into his arms. "Gem," he whispers in my ear, holding me tight. "It's okay."
I let out another whine sound. My eyes are pinched shut. Daniel holds me for the entire ride. He leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead. "I love you."
I don't have the strength to reply.
"We're here," Mom says. I can hear the click of her popping the key out of the ignition.
"Can you get up?" Daniel says.
I don't reply. Daniel scoops me up in his arms, holding me close to his chest, and walks in.
*POV Daniel*
I hold Gemma close to my chest as we walk in. Her body is limp. I can hear little whines escaping her. I'm worried about her. This seems like more than just PTSD and anxiety.
Mrs. Caddel walks up to the front desk and signs in. When she returns she sits next to me. Gemma is still in my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck.
"Gemma?" Mrs. Caddel asks quietly, brushing sweaty hair off Gemma's forehead.
Gemma doesn't say anything.
"Mrs. Caddel?" a lady stands in the doorway, holding a clipboard.
Mrs. Caddel gets up and plants a quick kiss on Gemma's forehead. She looks at me. "Watch her for me, alright?"
I nod. I lean my head close to Gemma's. "It's okay."
I pull out my phone and start playing softly, the white noise app I use to help me go to sleep. Gemma's muscles relax a little, and, eventually, her eyes open. She gazes at me.
"Are you okay now?" I ask.
Slowly, Gemma nods, and pulls herself to a sitting position on my lap.
"What happened?" she asks quietly.
I shake my head. "I don't know."
"Gemma?" Mrs. Caddel asks, coming out with the same woman who took her back.
Gemma lifts her head quizzically.
"Can you come back?" Mrs. Caddel asks.
Gemma slides off my lap, and, keeping my hand firmly in hers, we make our way over to Mrs. Caddel, then we follow her to the back, where we sit in a little room full of a child's play toys.
"Sit down for me, Miss Gemma," the lady says.
Gemma sits down.
"So your mother tells me you've been having some problems," the nurse says. Her name tag reads Maria, so I assume that's her name.
Gemma shrugs, leaning her head into my lap.
"What kind of problems have you been having, Gemma?" Maria asks.
Gemma shrugs again. "Anxiety. I guess," she says.
"You guess?" Maria asks.
Gemma shrugs again. I can feel her muscles tense against my body. I always knew she was bad in social situations, but I didn't know her social anxiety was this bad. I can feel her shaking. It's scary to see my seemingly fearless girlfriend so terrified of social interactions.
I grip her hand tightly, trying to bring her comfort, but she still shakes.
"Okay, I think I know her diagnosis," Maria says, nodding slowly. "Mrs. Caddel, I'll get back to you once I have a good treatment plan, alright?"
Mrs. Caddel nods. "Okay then."
"I'll walk you out," Maria says, smiling a little.
When we get to the car, Gemma's eyes are fiery. "What did you do, Mom?"
"I just want a bit of extra help for you, Gemma," Mrs. Caddel says.
"It's not that bad, Mom," Gemma insists.
"Gemma, if you can't go to school because of social anxiety and PTSD, yes, it is that bad," Mrs. Caddel says.
"It's just a flare-up," Gemma insists. "I'll be fine. I just have to get used to the new medication."
Mrs. Caddel turns around in the front seat to face Gemma. "Gemma, nothing you say will change this. You need help. These flare-ups are getting too frequent. Am I clear?"
Gemma's eyes are hard. "No. I'll be fine, Mom. Really."
"Fine," Mrs. Caddel says, turning the key in the ignition.
"Really?" Gemma asks. "You're not going to look for extra help?"
"Oh no," Mrs. Caddel says. "I'm still looking for extra help. But it's clear you're not changing your mind, and I'm not going to try. I'm doing this for you Gemma, whether you see it or not. And this is not something up for debate."
The car went silent as Mrs. Caddel drove home. I could feel Gemma silently fuming. She didn't have a choice in the matter, and she wasn't happy about it.