chapter four, i try

           "HEY, BELLA?" Noelle called her from the hallway, watching the way the dark brown-haired girl turned to her with curious eyes.

           "Yeah?" She pushed one earbud out of her ear, walking closer to Noelle. "You heading out?"

           Noelle nodded, walking alongside Bella out of school. "I was just wondering if you have a partner for English class. If you don't, maybe we could be partners?"

           "Oh," Bella raised her eyebrows. "It's—perfect, actually. I was about to search for someone and well... You saved me from a lot of trouble."

           Something heavy seemed to shift off Noelle's shoulders. She wasn't the one to initiate a conversation, but she was determined to make this work. "We, new girls, should stick together." She gently joked.

           Bella exhaled, chuckling. "I was really glad to hear that I won't be the only new girl. It's—exhausting."

           "Yeah, all those stares," Noelle zipped her jacket as they walked outside. The fresh, cold weather reached them both, biting their noses with icy weather. It just rained and now there was thin ice on the roads. 

           "Do you have in mind which book you want to present?" Bella asked, uneasily gulping as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

           "I saw you reading Pride and Prejudice the other day. Maybe we could combine it with other Jane Austen books? Do a comparison of love portrayal?"

           Walking closer to her truck, Bella hummed: "Yeah... That's a great idea, actually! Do you want a lift home?" 

           Noelle shook her head gently. "No, I don't want to bother you. I really like to walk." She admitted and opened her back, taking out a piece of paper and a book as they stood beside Bella's orange truck. "I'll give you my number and my home number just in case." Taking out a pen, she scribbled the numbers on the pieces of paper and gave it to Bella. 

           Bella took it, looking at it to see if she could read the numbers, nodding. "I'll call you... Are you sure you don't want a lift? The weather is dreadful – I already slipped twice today."

           The taller girl chuckled, "I even enjoy this kind of weather."

           Bella offered her a side glance, looking at her suspiciously: "You know you're probably the only one who likes this kind of weather?"

           "Is it weird that I've heard this said twice ever since I moved here?" 

           "I saw you talking with Eros in biology. He seems nice," Bella changed the topic.

           Noelle hesitated, "He is... I just don't want to be in trouble with Jessica."

           Bella waved her hand dismissively. "Angela told me she has spoken to him like three times in a year. I think she exaggerated. No one should have issues with you making friends."

           The taller girl felt better hearing this. "Thank you for that... What's with you and Edward?"

           Bella placed her bag on the top of the bonnet, sighing as she quickly stuffed her hands into her pockets, shaking her head for a few seconds. "One day he's speaking with me and the other ignoring. I don't really know what to think."

          "Weird," Noelle mumbled. "Maybe he is flustered around you?"

           "Around me?" Her voice rose in surprise. "Have you seen him?"

           "Yeah, his whole family is really—charming... But you are very beautiful yourself."

           Bella flustered, her pale cheeks becoming a bit pink as she averted her stare to the ground. "That's, uhm, really kind of you to say."

           Noelle didn't offer her farewells as a sudden screeching noise alerted both girls. They turned her head to the right where a dark minivan was sliding on the asphalt, heading right for them. The taller girl inhaled deeply, freezing for a few moments, not knowing what to do. She didn't have much time to run away, but she couldn't leave Bella behind. 

          She lunged forward and as she extended her hands to grab Bella and pull to herself, away from being squeezed between the two cars, a sudden hand appeared that pushed Noelle away with a force she had never experienced. She lunged away from the cars, sliding on the asphalt with the left side of her body. 

           A loud thud was heard, metal breaking, and she wanted to jolt her body up, terrified that Bella was injured. As she raised her head, a sharp pain scotched her temples with fire, moving through her forehead. Her eyes rolled upwards, gravity pushing her head down as she couldn't hear what was going on. Gritting her teeth, she raised her right hand, pushing it to the side of her head, noticing how blood stained her gloves. 

           As she was about to wince out of pain, a familiar burning sensation grew on her waist. Her body reacted quickly, she jolted up, only to be drilled with pain in her head as she couldn't decipher what she was seeing. Her vision was blurry, full of tears. Where was her bag?

           Extending her hands to her sides, she was tapping the space around her, not feeling her bag. Panic choked her. This couldn't be happening. "My bag..." she winced, closing and opening her eyes through pain, trying to blink faster. It felt like her head was sliced open, pulsing with venom as the burning sensation only spread further. 

           Someone touched her. 

           She raised her head again, moving to the left as she made out a big dent in the minivan and that Bella was in the middle of the cars, a guy holding her. Blinking a few more times, she spotted her bag near the orange truck, which was too far to reach.

           Gripping the asphalt with her hands, she slowly started to drag herself forward to it, before someone stood in front of her, kneeling and grasping her shoulders to keep her down. 

           It seemed like someone sliced her neck open as a scream got stuck in her lungs. "Don't touch me!" She gritted out, rolling to her side to push the hands away from her as the burning sensation stabbed her shoulders, feeling as if her skin would sizzle away. 

           "Hey! Hey! Noelle, you hit your head... You're bleeding..." his voice trailed off as the guy moved away, pulling his hands away from her as he watched the way the whole left side of her face was drenched in blood, a decent pool of it underneath her. 

           Uneasily, Eros gulped. The freshness of her blood seemed to overtake his senses. He wasn't sensitive to human blood, but he hadn't seen this much in a while. Gripping his thighs with his hands, he had to shake himself out of the inviting ecstasy as the woman was shaking in front of him. He stretched his hands out to hold her in place as her rolling was making her bleed even more. 

           But it seemed as if she noticed he was about to touch, and she pushed her feet to the ground, giving herself strength to move upwards, away from him. "Please," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Don't touch me," her begging got muffled by a sob as she shielded her body with her hands. 

           Eros didn't know what to do. He took off his jacket, ignoring the buzz around him, the gathering students and the calls for help. Raising his sweater and ripping a piece of his shirt, he folded it and moved to her. "I won't touch you. But you are bleeding out." He explained it before he moved her head to the right side with the fabric, pressing the material onto the deep wound. 

           He seemed to choke on his own words as there was so much blood, right in front of him. It was inviting him; it was lulling him with memories of how good human blood tasted. He inhaled one last time, not forcing himself to exhale as he pressed harder on her wound, hearing that help was on its way. But it seemed that she wasn't reacting to pain in her head as her body was curling into a little ball, her eyelids fluttering as she didn't seem to make sense of it all. 

           "My bag," she whispered, her lips losing color as they were trembling. 

           "Your bag?" Eros asked, looking to his side, noticing her bag underneath the car. He looked at who was closest to him, noting that it was Angela, and he tilted her head towards Noelle. "Hold it firmly against her head." He instructed. 

           The poor girl was terrified of seeing so much blood, but she did as he asked. She kneeled, taking the fabric out of his hand and pressing it against Noelle as he got her bag. 

           "You'll be fine, Noelle," Angela reassured her with a trembling voice. "The help is on the way."

           "My bag," Noelle groaned out as the pain started to become unbearable. It felt like her whole body was set on fire – she wanted to peel her skin and let herself breathe without it. 

           "Your bag," Eros came back to her. "What do you need?" His voice was rushed, holding her bag as if there was something that could magically cure her. 

          "Injections... There are..." her voice cut off as she wailed, feeling the way she couldn't feel her legs anymore, raising her head to see if she still had legs. But Angela pushed her head down, holding it firmly. 

           Eros didn't need to be told anything else as he opened her bag, desperately moving the books and other things aside to find some sort of injection. In the smallest section, he found four syringes. He took out one, which was securely packaged, tearing the packaging open, taking the cap from the syringe off, he stopped himself. 

           "Where? Where do you need the injection?"

           Noelle could barely figure out what he was saying while the buzz of the students and the incoming sirens was overthrowing everything around her. "Waist..." she croaked out as tears started to flow down her cheeks, preparing herself for the inevitable. 

           Eros heard the instruction, unzipping her jacket gently and raising her sweater to reveal her skin. His heart dropped. It was red and inflamed, but it looked as if it was burned. Little blisters were forming as he was looking at her waist. It seemed like someone had pushed her towards a hot iron. He didn't understand what was going on. But he pushed her sweater up even more, finding a small spot on her waist that wasn't forming blisters and he pushed the needle to her skin, pushing the liquid inside of her. 

           Taking the needle out, he covered her skin, even if he knew everyone saw it. He didn't get to say anything as the crowd of students was broken, two doctors rushing to them and another one behind them. 

           "Noelle!" The doctor behind them yelled out, panic striking his face. It was her father. 

꒷꒦

THERE WEREN'T words to explain how it felt to hear the diagnosis: Dermatographic urticaria also known as skin writing. It was a rare allergy to human skin. The condition manifests as an allergic-like reaction, causing a warm red wheal to appear on the skin. But it wasn't easy like that.

When there was an eight-year-old in front of you, sitting with her hands pressed between her thighs, head falling while her mother was hysterically crying, you wouldn't know what to do. If the diagnosis had been that simple, skin writing, they wouldn't have sat at the psychiatrist who told them that her condition depended on her mental state. Her trauma ignited the allergy that was meant to protect her. To protect her from ever getting touched again. 

The little girl knew what it meant. She knew what it meant when she was pinching the skin on her palms, and nothing was happening. She knew that she would never be able to hug her mommy. She will never sit on her father's shoulders during a concert. She will never have a friend. But she wasn't crying as all her tears were spilt through her mother. 

"You must understand that it is not dermatographic urticaria. It's a way to protect herself. You are both doctors and you understand that her body would've never been burnt from a single touch. An allergic reaction is at best—itching. We are talking about her mental state," the psychiatrist explained it, her voice calm, and soothing even as it was accompanied by the sniffling of Noelle's mother. 

Her parents knew what it meant. But sometimes, you had to hear the hard news from someone else to understand that it was the truth. They will never be able to hug their little daughter again. They will be forced to watch her every given second and protect her from the dangers. They should've protected her from the dangers. 

"What she has experienced," the psychiatrist continued, "made her brain develop a different way for her to be protected. With years, we must hope that as the trauma eases down, there will be an opportunity to hug your daughter again. But you have a lot of work ahead."

Nine years have passed since. It was getting worse. 

With a deep breath, the memory faded as the girl felt herself waking up into reality. She slipped away from the haunting memories, slowly opening her eyes, feeling how the pain was numbing inside of her. There wasn't probably a day when she wasn't surrounded by pain, so it only meant that she was alive. 

The bright light blinded her as she squinted her eyes, blinking a few times to get used to it. As the vision slowly came together, she noticed white walls surrounding her, meaning that she was in a hospital. Huffing out a breath, she slowly moved herself forward, wanting to lay a bit higher. 

As she did so, she looked to the left, where she saw a girl sitting on a chair, next to her bed – Bella. 

"Oh," Noelle croaked out. "Are you alright?"

Bella turned to her as soon as she heard her voice, seeing that she was finally awake. Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head: "Yeah—I am fine... Jesus, Noelle... We all thought we'd lost you."

Heavily blinking, she watched Bella who seemed unharmed, letting herself breathe out a bit more easily. At least Bella was fine. "We?"

"Your parents were here with you, but they got called on duty. They will be back soon. Angela went to get some coffee. Eros is outside talking with his father... We thought—oh, I am so sorry, Noelle."

Noelle shook her head, but she regretted the decision as a sharp pain pushed her head back on the pillow, so she turned a bit to face Bella. "I'm fine... I thought you'd get hurt," she whispered. The memory of the incident was flashing back, but only in certain pieces. She remembers how she wanted to push Bella away, but suddenly someone appeared to them, and she got pushed away. She remembers Eros and the way he searched her bag and how everything went black afterwards. 

"I don't even have a scratch," Bella shook her head, placing her hand on her forehead, feeling incredibly guilty. "I'll get Doctor Cullen and some water for you. Hold on." The girl quickly left, leaving her jacket on the chair. 

Soon enough, Doctor Cullen entered the door, fogging her mind with his beauty. What could she expect when all his children were beautiful? He walked closer to her, taking her file from the little table beside the bed. 

"How are we feeling, Miss Blanchet?" He perfectly pronounced her last name, not butchering it, the way English speakers often did. "You experienced quite a hit to your head and lost a bit of blood. Do you feel a lot of pain?"

"No," she whispered. "It's bearable. And my—allergy?"

"Your waist was burnt badly and the inflammation on your shoulders should be eased up by now. As I saw in your file... We've managed to avert bigger complications," he explained, writing something on the papers. "I'll tell the nurse to get you more fluids with painkillers. You'll be back on your feet in no time." He offered her a gentle smile, placing her file on the end of the bed, and leaving the room.

She didn't even notice that Eros was by the door this whole time, making her feel as if she wanted to be swallowed by hell. She didn't want to be seen like this. Especially not by him. 

"Seven stitches on the side of your head," he said as he walked closer to the end of the bed. "You're going to have a badass scar." He grabbed the railing of the bed, looking at her. 

"Yeah, what can I say... I'll do anything to have a badass scar," she gently joked, her voice silent. Taking a minute to breathe, she gently shook her head: "Thank you... I remember you helping me before I blacked out... I—thank you."

She couldn't decipher the look in his eyes—was it pity? Maybe sadness? Maybe disgust for her? She felt so bad that he had to help her. That all of them were worried about her. Just as she thought that everything was going smoothly. 

"You're not a germaphobe, are you?" he silently asked.

Feeling tears well in her eyes, she felt the way her heart dropped. They will think she is a monster. The entire school will know that there is something so utterly wrong with her. That her skin burns at the bare touch of another human. That she is worthless and doesn't deserve to waste the given oxygen.

"No," her voice trembled as she was blinking quickly to contain her tears, not looking at him. "Please, don't think that I'm a..." Monster. Her voice broke, tears escaping her eyes as she closed her eyes, shaking herself as if to calm herself. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to see that well-known look of pity twisted with pure disgust. As if they will burn for looking at her. As if she carried a disease for all to fall sick. "I'm allergic to human touch."

She didn't even hear how he sat down on the chair, near her. As she opened her eyes, she was met with his dark brown eyes, full of—pain. His face was twisted by pure confusion and even slight anger, but she didn't understand if it was meant for her. 

"I... I touched your shoulders trying to keep you in place. I didn't..."

"It's fine," she brushed it off, not wanting to see him feel bad about her. "I didn't tell anyone, because I thought it would be easier for me to—just integrate into a new life. You saved me."

Eros looked at her in silence and she felt so bare underneath his eyes. She wanted to run away, to turn her back, but she was as if nailed to this bed, her body aching at any small movement. She was forced to listen to the part of herself that always told her that she wasn't good enough. She wasn't good enough for anyone. She was a waste of breath. 

"How long have you had the allergy?" he finally asked.

Inhaling, she winced from the pain as her tummy expanded, thinking for a moment. "Nine years. Almost ten, now."

Leaning back on the chair, he was looking at her, wondering how she had survived all of this. Not being able to touch someone. Not being able to be touched. When you didn't put much thought into it, you could never realize how important a single touch was. A simple pat on the shoulder, a heart-warming hug from someone you love. She had to grow up without all of that, isolated, wrapped in bubble wrap for safekeeping. And the consequences of a simple touch – hell, he could smell her burnt skin.

And what could he say to her in this situation? Sorry for the way you are? Sorry that you can't touch someone? Sorry, that life itself is trying to kill you? Life was unfair and out of many people, she knew that well. There was nothing he could've said that she hadn't heard before. Pure pity, sadness, even grief.  

"I wanted to keep my condition a secret because sometimes people are cruel. I've received so much pity from familiar people, from doctors that I forgot how cruel people can be. How curious they might be to see if this all is true." Tears streamed down her face as she gazed up. "I'm sorry," she quickly whispered. "I shouldn't be bothering you with my sob story."

Something inside of him broke, hearing her say this. It felt as if she never had a person close enough to tell her sorrows, to cry with. Eros couldn't understand how someone, finding out about her allergy, could hurt her intentionally. But then again, people always tried to get something ahold of you, just to make you hurt, just to feel better about themselves. 

"Don't apologize, Noelle," he leaned forward, pushing his hands on his lap. "I cannot even imagine the terrors you have been through, the loneliness... You had every right to shield yourself from the cruelty of the others."

Noelle gently turned her head to face him, feeling how her tears weren't going to stop any time soon. She felt embarrassed crying and telling her stupid story to him. His words seemed so genuine that she didn't know how to feel. He wasn't lying? He wasn't pretending to care? Or maybe she just didn't see what he thought about her.

"Thank you for your words," she whispered, afraid that her voice would break while speaking. Changing the topic, she asked: "Did you see who pushed me and Bella out of the way? I—I don't remember."

It seemed like everything started to make sense to Eros. He shook his head as he lied to her: "No, I didn't see who was there." It made him question why Noelle was pushed aside as a rag and why Bella was saved without a scratch when Edward could've easily saved them both without any casualties.

Why did Edward push her away?

author speaks—

we have this WONDERFUL gif made by runlikeh3ll ; please check out their other graphics as THEY ARE SO TALENTED 🫶🏻

we dive in more into Noelle's past. I can promise you that her past is really traumatizing. To explain her allergy - skin writing really does exist, but I took it to another level and combined with mental issues. From experience, I know what a powerful thing our mind is. So Noelle's allergy is deeply connected to her mind - she doesn't want to be touched. We'll figure out why in the later chapters!

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