She nodded and slowly dropped her hands, releasing me from her clutches. Keeping one eye on her—though it didn’t seem to matter because she didn’t budge an inch—I found a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, then grabbed a set of undergarments for her. After finding her towel and toiletries, along with her shower shoes, I grabbed her hand in mine and led her to the bathrooms. It was nearly empty, apart from a girl using the bathroom, so I urged Coralie into the handicapped shower stall since it was roomier before yanking the curtain closed.
I swallowed thickly, drawing in a deep—hopefully not noticeable—quiet breath before I peeled my clothes over my head and set them on the bench. After sliding on my shower shoes, I helped Coralie out of her clothes as well, setting them on the other side of the bench away from our clean clothes.
It wasn’t the first time we’d showered together. There’d been many nights after a party that she had to help me shower or I had to help her. And back then, it’d felt like torture, but this was somehow so much worse.
Because would she still hate me when she came out of her head?
She remained quiet as I led her into the shower stall and turned it on, and she still didn’t make a sound—seemingly a little out of it—as I quickly washed and conditioned her hair and then bathed her. But I knew she was aware of what was happening because every time I moved too far away from her, she got a panicked look in her eyes that broke my fucking heart.
What the fuck had happened to her?
After getting her dressed, I led her back to our room and dried her hair before tugging one of my hoodies over her head. My heart clenched when she turned her head and deeply inhaled, her muscles seeming to relax for the first time since she’d walked through the door of our dorm room. She didn’t even seem to care that my hoodie was a tight fit on her. I wanted to cry. I didn’t know how to help her. But if a piece of me soothed her, then so fucking be it. I’d give her my entire wardrobe and the clothes off my back.
Maybe that made me an idiot after what she did to me, but for her, I was always a bit stupid.
“I need to go to class,” I told her, picking up her bag and handing it to her. “And so do you.” She frowned, eyeing her bed. I cupped her cheek and crouched in front of her. The pain in her eyes cut me to my core. Would there ever be a time that I didn’t hurt for her? “Please, Coralie,” I softly pleaded. “You need normalcy. You know that just as well as I do. Just… meet me in the food court at twelve, okay? Do you have a class then?”
She shook her head. I softly smiled. “Meet me there at twelve,” I repeated. “We’ll have lunch together before our afternoon classes.”
She nodded and stood. Then, surprising the fuck out of me, she pulled me into a tight hug, burying her face in my hair. Tears thickened my throat as I hugged her back, all my barriers against her falling away.
I didn’t think they were ever that strong to begin with.
Sensing eyes on me, I looked up, watching as Coralie made her way through the first floor of the student center over to me. I’d taken over one of the couches in a darker corner and had chicken sandwiches and fries on the table in front of us, waiting to be devoured. It was hot today, and I’d come out of my hoodie long ago, only really needing it in my math class, but Coralie was still wearing the one I’d put on her that morning, even though her cheeks were pink from the heat.
“Hey,” I greeted, patting the spot next to me. “I got your favorite. You need to eat.” God only knew the last time she’d eaten anything, and I knew she wouldn’t be opening her mouth to tell me anytime soon.
She dropped her bag on the floor and sank down beside me. After I handed her the sandwich I’d picked up for her, she leaned against my side, slowly eating it. She clearly didn’t want to eat, only wanted to be close to me. But maybe, just like back then, she wanted to do what made me happy.
Maybe.
But this was all so fucking confusing to me, yet I couldn’t voice my questions. We were literally at each other’s throats two days ago, but now, we were doing… whatever this was. It was freaking me out all while wrecking me inside because this was what I’d wanted from her for so long. But I was only getting it because she was broken.
Coralie, baby, what happened to you?
Six
Mila
Coralie was still quiet. She didn’t speak a word during dinner that evening, and even when Jessica came to check on her, Coralie remained mute. Desperate to help her, I snatched my keys off my dresser. I didn’t really have the money to spare for extra gas—not when I had to head home in a couple of weeks to check in with my probation officer—but Coralie needed a change of scenery.
Normalcy clearly wasn’t helping like I’d hoped it would.
“Let’s go,” I said, snatching her shoes off the floor and walking over to her bed. She frowned at me, her brows furrowing in confusion. I crouched at her feet and tugged her Converse onto her narrow feet. “We’re going on a ride, Cor. You need some time away from everything to think and process whatever you’re feeling. Sticking to what you know isn’t working. You’re just withdrawing more and more, and I can’t just sit by and watch it happen without trying something.”
She swallowed thickly. “I don’t…” Her voice was raspy as she spoke. I snapped my eyes up to hers, so relieved to hear her speaking, even if it sounded like it pained her. “I don’t want to go anywhere, Mila,” she croaked.
I gripped her knees, gazing up at her through my lashes. “Cor, I’m worried sick. The last time you went mute, you lost Pumpkin.” She sighed, pain filling her eyes as she thought of her adorable cat. “Please talk to me,” I begged. “I want to fix whatever happened, but I can’t if I?—”
“You can’t fix this,” she whispered, her voice cracking. Tears flooded her eyes.
“Cor—”
“This is on me,” she told me brokenly. My heart squeezed in my chest as a tear ran down her cheek. I hurriedly reached up to wipe it away, my fingers shaking. “I didn’t know, Mila. I didn’t know you felt that way. Didn’t know you got arrested that night.” Her words were rushed now, like now that she was talking, she couldn’t stop. Like she needed to get the words out, or she wouldn’t be able to live another moment. And fuck, my heart was breaking. What the hell had I said to her when I’d been drunk?
“I was so stupid. You would’ve never come out and said you liked someone—even to me. I should’ve seen your confession about Brittany for what it was. You two were never together, were you?”
I silently shook my head, lost for words. What the hell was happening? Another tear ran down her cheek. “You didn’t ignore me that weekend. You were locked up, weren’t you?” When I nodded again, suddenly feeling hollow, her face crumpled. “I should have been there with you,” she cried, reaching for me. I allowed her to pull me onto her lap, and we held each other. I sank into her embrace, clinging to her like she was my lifeline as my own tears slid down my cheeks, my heart breaking all over again. “I shouldn’t have left you at that fucking party, Mila. I’ll forever regret it. I’ll forever regret turning my back on you. You had every right to be angry at me. Your entire life got flipped upside down, and I fucking abandoned you.”