NATHAN

CHAPTER ELEVEN - "THE DEATH OF A FRIEND"

OCTOBER 1ST, MONDAY

"PST, WHAT'S HAPPENING?" Alex whispered, sliding next to me in the massive group of people in front of the wooden doors that led into the hall, Spencer following behind him.

I tipped my toes to attempt to see above the people's heads and into the great hall, only to see the principal standing on the stage, next to the microphone stand, pieces of white paper in her hands which I guessed were scripts.

The sudden assembly cut us off in the middle of Languages, and I wondered how important the matter being presented was, as assemblies interrupting lessons had simply never happened before.

"Um, I have no idea," I answered, still trying to look over people's heads to get a better view of what's under the stage, but stopped and standing back onto my heels after realising that my short figure doesn't really help in this situation. "I can see the principal with pieces of paper, but I have no idea what's happening."

He frowned, the corner of his lips tilted downwards in confusion.

"Why would there just be a random assembly in the middle of a lesson?" Alex asked, his arms crossed. He glanced up at Spencer. "Did the student council set up some weird thingamajig that we all have to attend?"

Spencer shook his head lightly, looking straight forward. "Nope," He replied, squinting his eyes in confusion as he peered through the crowds. "Not my fault this time."

"What the heck?" Alex asked quietly, murmuring the question softly under his breath. He then began to turn his head around, scanning the students standing next to him, shoving and pushing against each other. "Uh, has anyone seen Ro?"

I shook my head, putting my hands in the pocket of my red hoodie as I rocked back and forth on my heels.

"So, Ro's gone off somewhere," Spencer said, crossing his arms against his chest. I attempted to nod in response, but before I could-

With a secure grip on my forearm, a harsh and quick tug caused me to stumble to the side and lean into someone's warmth, my steps stuttering and skipping.

Suddenly, a quick figure rushed and shoved past the spot that I had just been standing at, their head down, bumping into many of the other students as they murmured something under their breath.

My eyes lingered at the trailing person's back, wondering what urgent and important business had been on their mind for them to rush through the sea of students in such a careless, reckless manner. Nevertheless, I looked up, already expecting the tall figure's features.

"Thanks," I said with a smile. I attempted to pull away from his grasps, only to no avail.

I peered down at his hand around my arm then back up at him, perplexed as to why he was still grabbing at my arm.

Myles' hand lingered at my arm, continuing to hold it in a firm, but not uncomfortable grip. It was softer than the one he had on me before, but his fingers were still tightly wrapped around the limb, the red material crumbling under his hold.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, leaning into him.

Myles stared at me momentarily, his blue eyes staring into mine with uncertainty. His lips were parted slightly as if he had wanted to speak, but he closed them before anything got out. He sighed, shaking his head before releasing his grip. "It's nothing."

I tilted my head to the side, concerned at his sudden action. "You sure?"

Myles nodded, patting my back with confusing, abrupt, but not unwelcomed gentleness, his eyes focused on the moving stream of students flowing into the hall.

"Yeah." He removed his hand. "Sure."

We walked into the hall, alongside the other students, all impatient to rest on the benches inside the hall after what seemed like years of standing.

The hall was filled with chattering and mutters. People were talking to one another as the principal tidied her papers against the podium, clearing her throat to gain the attention of the body of students.

"Good morning, students," She started, causing the hall getting quieter and quieter. I shuffled around, wondering what urgent matter was at hand as the assembly unravelled. She continued, "I apologise for this sudden assembly, but we have just been informed of a dreadful incident that happened just yesterday."

She cleared her throat again, regaining the attention of the students around us.

I frowned, glancing to the right and up of me, debating if I should ask Myles about the so-called, dreadful incident, but was interrupted by the principal's voice before I could part my lips to ask.

"Lucas Middleton, a heavily valued student who has made a massive contribution to the community of Westfield High-"

What?

I blinked,  confused as to why his name was mentioned. I tugged at Myles' arm, worried as to the wellbeing of Lucas, to which he replied silently with a bite of his bottom lip, his brows furrowed together in what I assumed was the same confusion that I was feeling.

"Dreadful incident."

Pure panic shot through my veins, and my legs began to bounce up and down uncontrollably as his name was muttered, and introduced in such a fashion that had made me dread.

With no explanation received, I turned to Alex, but he had been in the same state as me - panicked, concerned and bewildered, all at the same time.

Most importantly, fear.

I swallowed, desperately hoping that he had just won some sort of certificate at some Maths competition, and not anything else that was more drastic than a simple, plain, piece of paper with words printed on it.

Despite the possibility of him winning an award after being in a hospital room for months being extremely slender, my fists still tightened.

Please just be an award, please just be an award, please just be an award.

"Lucas Middleton-" She repeated his name, causing my breath to hitch painfully.

Please, please, please, please.

"-A heavily valued student who has made a massive contribution to the community of Westfield High."

Please.

"Passed away yesterday."

It stopped.

I don't know what, but something did.

It was as if the entire world just went on pause, halting in its process and turning everything blank and lifeless.

She talked for a while more, but my head spun and was flushed with looped, this isn't happening, no, stop, no, please, don't, no, please.

It was a daze. I was paralyzed the whole way through, with my head only filled with those words that she presented as I desperately tried to piece them together. Lucas Middleton, passed away, yesterday.

"-That will be all," She said. "You are all dismissed."

People stood up and began to leave the hall, but I sat there, staring at my hands on my lap. My mouth dry, my brain numb, and my fingers weak.

Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.

Lucas passed away.

Yesterday.

Myles held me by the shoulder as we walked out with the crowd, my hood tugged over my head while I just stared blankly at the moving, but also unmoving ground. I was pretty sure I was shaking, but I couldn't bring myself to stop.

We walked into the bathroom.

I sat down against a wall.

I felt blank.

My vision was blurry, and I didn't even realise that I had been crying until a droplet slid down the side of my face and wet the skin on my palm. My fingers itched, my head spun, and I felt separated from everything else in the world.

"Nathan," Myles whispered, kneeling down in front of me. His voice was soft, but I couldn't respond.

I could only stare at the floor, not knowing what to say or what to do.

In a way, I had expected this.

His parents told me themselves that he was getting worse, and that his treatments are getting less and less effective. Even without them, I could still see the defeated look in his eyes, the thin wrists and frame that looked carved out, and the dread that came with every single one of his sentences.

He even told me himself, to not expect more struggling from him all while having that smile on his face.

"If I do die sometime in the near future," He hesitated, clearly processing through the words he was speaking. "I really, really don't want you to cry, but uh, I think we both know that it would be extremely unlikely."

He wanted to use 'When', not 'If'.

I could tell, but I stayed quiet.

And as his words sunk in more, my thoughts turned from this isn't happening, no, stop, no, please, don't, no, please, to I didn't get to say goodbye.

I hated it.

I hated that I expected this. I hated that I was accepting the fact that my best friend had just died so easily. I hated that others were still living their lives as if nothing had happened while mine stopped as I cried on the floor of one of the school's bathroom.

I hated the fact that everyone else could just go on with their lives as if nothing had happened, right after my most precious person just left forever.

I hated the fact that no one was feeling the same type of anger, sadness, dread all mashed up into one singular emotion that I was experiencing.

I hated the fact that it almost seemed as if nothing had happened.

Myles was still staring at me with those concerned eyes of his, but he didn't show anything else other than the slight tremble in his fingers.

One part of me wanted to scream, to grab his shirt, tug hard and ask him how he could stay so calm after being informed fo our friend's death, and yell at him asking if he even felt that Lucas was one of his friends.

Just do something.

But within that part, there laid a small whisper that desperately craved to obtain his abilities to secure his emotions away, all locked behind a nonchalant expression, because, perhaps, it'd be simpler that way.

Anything.

Maybe, it'd all be better.

I stared a bit more at the white, bathroom floor tiles.

Numb, empty, gaping, hollow and bare.

They didn't tell me beforehand. They didn't tell me yesterday. They didn't call my parents. They didn't call Elliot. They didn't do anything.

I knew from the assembly, like everyone else who couldn't give less of a shit about him, and not his best friend who's been treasuring him for the past eleven years.

I couldn't breathe.

And the tears started to seep out, without much emotion attached to them. They just began to leak, even though I was still numb and dull with the shock.

I closed my eyes and blindly grabbed for Myles, who simply wrapped his arms around me silently.

He didn't ask me questions, he didn't throw pity attempts of comforting words at me, and he didn't tell me that, "He knows how it feels." or "It'll get better soon." and I might just stay eternally grateful.

How would I get better?

The most precious person that I've laughed, cried, joked, and smiled with wasn't here anymore. I would never see his sparkling blue eyes looking up at me again. I would never see the corners of his lips raise up into a meek smile again.

He's gone.

I cried into Myles' shoulder, dampening the fabric of his black jacket with my tears as I sobbed. I cried, and I cried, and I cried, never really stopping to process anything that was happening, or why I was crying.

I just cried, continuously and numbly.

He's gone.

The dog tag that hung from my neck practically burned me, but the burn clung on to me with hints of him, so I wrapped it around my fingers and let it burn as much as possible.

Everything was dulled down, and the only things that remained were the warmth coming from Myles, the sound of my own sobs, and the words that floated around my head that I still couldn't fully comprehend.

He's gone.

I cried a bit more.

"If I do die sometime in the near future," He hesitated, clearly processing through the words he was speaking. "I really, really don't want you to cry, but uh, I think we both know that it would be extremely unlikely."

He wanted to use 'When', not 'If'.

I could tell, but I stayed quiet.

I brushed my hair away from my eyes and chuckled. Not because it was funny, but because I just had to. It was empty and dull, but he smiled a small bit at it, and suddenly it was fine again.

"But in all honesty, you're possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I could never ask for a better best friend," Lucas murmured, pain from his words settling into my bones and making my skin crawl. Goosebumps raised on my arms, and I simply tugged my hoodie a bit closer, not wanting to stress him out.

"And I don't want it to, I guess, change your life? In fact, I'd probably prefer it if you just pretend like nothing ever happened and, I don't know, have a pop tart or something."

It sounded like a goodbye, and I hated goodbyes.

I still laughed, of course. It was him.

"You know that won't happen," I mumbled.

It can't.

It just can't.

It won't.