Chapter 38: Chapter thirty eight

Drayton

Wide awake, that was me. I hadn't slept a wink since last night. My only consolation was that tonight wasn't a school night.

It's not that I was intentionally punishing myself by not sleeping, but each time I close my eyes, the image of a certain silver blonde hair flashed through my mind.

Yesterday was the first time in forever that Arielle and I spent the whole day together without almost killing each other. We chatted and laughed like we were friends. There were no snide comments or glaring at each other. She acted like she actually liked me.

And there was the time when I was sure we were gonna kiss before Suzie's interruption. The thought of kissing her didn't send me running for the hills like I expected. In fact, I wanted it. If Suzie hadn't shown up, I was sure I would have gone for it despite that we were in public.

I realized with terrifying alarm that I was into her. I was sure she didn't feel the same way. Up until yesterday, she hated me. Just two nights ago, I had pushed her into a pool at a party with all our classmates. I had no doubt she would go back to hating me as soon as we get back to school.

Fuck.

I gave up on trying to force myself to sleep and got out of bed. I needed a drink. A strong one. Penny doesn't keep alcohol in the house. All the wine in the house were nonalcoholic. I didn't mind it, partly because, I didn't really like having my inhibitions lowered. People make stupid decisions when they're drunk. But at times like this, I crave the relief only alcohol can bring.

But since there are none available, I have no choice but to go with it second cousin. Coffee. I headed downstairs intent on making a strong cup of coffee. I was halfway through when I heard a loud clatter from the kitchen.

I rushed towards it, my heart pounding at the thought of someone getting hurt. My feet halted as I saw the mess the place was in and the person responsible for it.

“What the fuck happened in here?” I asked as I dragged my gaze around.

There were deep stains of coffee everywhere. I took in the cups lined on the counter, all of them containing coffee. It was like Arielle had described back at Chuck's, a coffee apocalypse.

“It looks like all the caffeine in the world threw up in here.” I added. I wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. That was exactly how this place looked.

Arielle groaned and knelt in the middle of the broken mug on the floor. She began picking the pieces without answering my question or even acknowledging my presence.

“Were you trying to drink coffee because you couldn't sleep?” I asked, trudging further into the kitchen. I sidestepped the broken mug and went straight to the cups on the counter.

“No,” she said, her tone clipped.

“So why were you making this much coffee at two in the morning?” I pressed further, ignoring her dismissive tone.

I picked up one of the cups and took a sip of the content. I immediately regretted it and spat it out. It was too bitter.

Arielle's posture stiffened. She stared up from what she was doing and glared at me.

Seems how tentative friendship had ended.

“I didn't ask you to drink that.” She spat, her face squeezed with barely restrained anger.

Now that I was close to her, I could see the line of exhaustion on her face clearly. Her face was puffy too. It was obvious she hadn't slept at all and not for the same reason as me.

A heartbeat passed before the realization of what she was doing dawned on me.

“You're trying to prepare for your interview tomorrow,” I said more like a statement than a question. The flaring of her nose and the frustration in her eyes were the only confirmation I needed.

“You're going about it the wrong way.” I said softly.

Her eyes snapped to me, glistening with rage. But I knew it was only a mask for the frustration she was feeling with herself. Arielle McAlister had always strived to be the best. She hadn't met something she couldn't ace. The frustration that she couldn't do something as simple as a coffee must be eating at her.

I knew because I felt like that when I started working part time too. Although my lack of skills was more customer related. I suck at customer service when I first started working at Chuck's.

“Whether I'm going about it the right or the wrong way doesn't concern you. Just get the fuck out of my face before I– ah!” She jolted back, snatching her hand from the shard of glass that must have pierced her.

My insides churned as I caught sight of the blood trickling from her injured finger. Blood. Her blood.

All thoughts emptied from my mind as I closed the distance between us and snatched her hand. I tried not to let the panic creep in at the sight of her bleeding.

“Are you fucking crazy? Why were you picking broken glasses with your hands?!” I half yelled as I dragged her to the kitchen sink. I turned the faucet and forced her hand under the water, ignoring her glares.

My ears roared as I watched the pinkish liquid disappeared through the drainage. She'd hurt herself and she was bleeding. It was the only thing I could focus on.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I continued my scolding as I continued to wash the blood off.

I turned the faucet after the blood on her hand had been washed off. I dragged her towards the drawer where the first aid kit was kept and applied ointment on her finger.

I didn't tear my gaze away from the spot as I gently dabbed the ointment on the injured area. I tried to ignore the flashes of hospital room and the steady beep of that cursed monitor roaring in my ear.

“It's just a tiny prickle. I'm fine.” Arielle's soft voice interrupted the gore images flashing through my mind.

She was right. She was fine. She was here.

“It could have been worse. Why are you always so careless?” I growled.

I finally lifted my head and stared at her face. Gone was the earlier rage and frustration, it was replaced by surprise and another emotion I couldn't decipher.

“Relax. It's just a small cut. It's not like I'm dying or anything. You can't get rid of me that easily.” She chuckled, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

My posture went rigid as those words left her mouth. The images I had suppressed earlier came rushing into my mind, threatening to tear me apart from inside.

“Don't joke about that. It's not funny.” I said, my jaws tightening.

She was fine. She was here.

I chanted those words in my mind like a mantra. The amusement slowly faded from her face as she stared at me with a serious expression.

“Why do you care what happens to me?” She asked suddenly.

I stared at her unblinkingly for several seconds, the roaring in my ears increasing. The question had caught me so offguard that I couldn't come up with an answer.

The sound of rain falling shattered the palpable silence between us, saving me from answering the question.

“Let's clean up and I'll help you prepare for your interview tomorrow. I'm Chuck's protege after all.” I said and flashed her a smile.

She snorted a laugh and moved, putting enough distance between us. I ignored the pang I felt at the sudden loss of her closeness and sprung into action.

After a few minutes, she finally got the hang of it. Well, she still had a long way to go, but her coffee wasn't as horrible as the ones she'd made before.

We sat by the counter in silence, sipping the hot coffee and listening to the sound of the rain.

My mind whirled back to the question that had left me speechless and I found I still had no answer for it.

Why do I care what happens to her?