The atmosphere at Galena High feels thick. News has traveled quickly about Jamie's accident and it's hit the entire student body like a bucket of ice-water from hell. The halls feel cold—stale. A hum of chatter vibrates through the endless corridors like the scuttling of rats trapped in the walls of a home. Muted whispers tickle the air with their harsh disrespect for the horror that took place not even three days ago ago.

All I want is silence. Total and complete silence. But there will always be those people who lack common decency. They care for nothing but their own happiness. Compassion is a foreign concept, and even if they were given the opportunity to learn it, they'd reject it. Selfish is what they are.

I used to be one of them.

I spot a boy goofing off with his buddy and I pass them with a scowl on my face. How can they be so insensitive? Do they not feel it? The sadness hovering over the school? Or am I just exceptionally aware of it?

It seems I've been sucked far deeper into the emotional side of this circumstance than I was ever prepared for. If I'd just never found the courage to approach Jamie the other day and spark up a conversation, then I'd probably be just like everyone else. I'd shoot pitying eyes towards Jamie's friends, and then I'd escape back to the safety of my own friends. Now, I just feel like I'm a joke. But then I realize that's a joke. There's no way I could have ever not been affected by this. Because, whether Jamie accepts me or not, he's my friend and knowing that a friend is suffering would rattle any normal person.

I abandoned him first. So, in a way, I feel as though I don't have the right to feel such sinking remorse over what's happened. I don't have a right to care as much as I do. And yet, tears still seem to be lingering just on the verge of betraying me.

As I glide through the halls on the way to my first-period class, I spot a familiar blonde-headed girl. Each muscle in my body is urging me to continue forward, to ignore what my gut is screaming at me to do. But I can't. Not when I see the melancholy pulling at the girl's face.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to be rejected. People who are hurting tend to find satisfaction in hurting others, so I'm ready for her to lash out at me. I sidestep around a bulky guy and dodge a flock of freshman girls before reaching Clarice. She's got her back to me now as she digs through her locker. With hesitant fingers, I reach for her, tapping her gently on the shoulder.

She stills, her muscles rigid as she slowly turns to face me. If I thought she looked broken from a distance, then up close is far worse. It's as if her entire world was painted within her features, and now that world has been crushed. Her eyes hide nothing. The pain she suffers is evident in each make-up free line of her face.

"Hi." My voice leaves my lips in a timid whisper.

She just stares at me, curiosity joining the wreckage of emotions on her face.

"I uh... I just wanted to say—" I stop, feeling silly for thinking that this would be helpful to her in any way. But then I glance up and note the look of need on her face. She's hungry for this. As much as it hurts, it seems she needs people to recognize her pain. Since she hasn't rejected me yet, I let the words leave my lips. "What happened really sucks, and I'm so sorry. If you need anything at all please let—"

She doesn't let me finish because in that moment any strength she was using to contain her sorrow, breaks. Next thing I know, I'm in her embrace, her arms holding me to her with such urgency that I'm motionless for a moment. And then I relax, letting my arms wrap around her as she weeps on my shoulder.

I had not prepared myself for this, but I push my own discomfort to the side. Clarice needs this, and somehow her tears seem to be giving me strength as I shove my own sadness to the back of my mind.

I sense the stares of curious bystanders, but they don't matter. Right now, Clarice matters. Her heart matters. The judgmental glances that dance around us are like dull darts—they don't stick. I'm completely immune to the gossip.

Clarice eventually gathers herself together, a soft chuckle escaping her throat as she pulls away from me. She wipes her damp face with the back of her hand, glistening eyes finding mine.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, clearly ashamed. "I barely even know you." She laughs again.

"It's fine," I assure her. "I think you needed that." I offer a smile, which she returns.

It seems that we've jumped over the need for small talk and pleasantries. We've just shared a moment that has created a bond between us, and because of that, I find the nerve to inquire about Jamie. I'm still a bit hesitant because I don't want to shatter her again, but the hospital hasn't been allowed to give out any details about Jamie's status, and I'm desperate.

"Have you heard anything about him?" I ask, my voice soft so she understands my own concern for him. "Have his parents said anything?"

"Um," She wipes her nose with a Kleenex she's pulled from her purse. "Yeah, his mom said he's stable. I guess he's actually in a medically induced coma because his injuries were so extensive. They're not allowing anyone but family in to see him at this point. It's driving me completely insane."

I can hear the frustration in her voice and it makes me frustrated for her. If my best friend was in the hospital, I'd give up anything to be by their side. I visualize Justine or Rosa laying unconscious beneath the sterile sheets of a hospital bed and I cringe internally. Clarice must feel so helpless right now.

"What happened anyway?" I wonder aloud, hoping she'll have the answers.

"He, uh..." I watch her pinch the bridge of her nose before rubbing her temple. "He was on his way back to school from lunch when a kid pulled out into the street on his bike, Jamie swerved to avoid hitting him, and was hit by a truck."

"Oh, my gosh!" The words leave my lips before I can filter them. My reaction feels harsh, but Clarice doesn't seem bothered. She just watches me for a moment, examining my response.

"Were you two close?" she suddenly asks, startling me with the blunt question.

I smile to cover my discomfort, hating that I have to admit that I'm shaken up about a tragic event involving a boy I barely know anymore.

"Once," I tell her. "We were childhood friends, but I screwed up. Now he can't stand me. We only just started talking again on Monday."

"Wow," Clarice mutters, eyes wide and still damp from tears. "I had no idea."

The fact that she knows nothing about our prior friendship twinges my heart. I wasn't even worth grumbling about with his friends? It's as if he completely banished me from his life, like I'd never even been a part of it.

"Do you like him?"

This girl knows no boundaries. I find myself wishing for a moment that I'd never ventured over here to comfort her.

"I, uh..." I grin awkwardly, fighting to hide my discomfort as I glance over Clarice's shoulder before meeting her gaze again. "I... yes. I think so."

She smiles, but I can see a change in her expression. The openness she shared with me just moments before seems to have shut down. She's closing herself off, and I think I know why.

"I don't blame you," she says, her voice cracking slightly.

I watch her turn back towards her locker to pull a Sociology book out, but it's too late. I've just seen much further into her fragile heart than she realizes. I might have a baby crush on Jamie Gallagher, but Clarice is in love with him.

She loves him.

I'm speechless as I watch her ready her backpack for her first-period class before turning to face me again. She seems to have recovered now, her smile back in place as her eyes find mine.

"Thank you," she says, her voice quiet but genuine. With one more smile, she's gone.

I stand motionless, staring at her retreating form. It's then that I realize that my actions did not benefit either one of us. All I did was make Clarice aware of the fact that she has competition—if I even dare call myself that—and my hope has only dwindled further with the realization that Jamie's state has yet to improve.

Overall, this morning can crawl back to where it came from. I want nothing from this day. All today plans to offer me is discomfort and sorrow. But, instead of slinking away into a hole of pity, I buck up and trudge through it just like I should. Because really, I have no excuse. If Clarice and Jamie's other friends can make it through this, then I most certainly can.

———

"Why are you so worked up about this?" Justine questions me later that day as we sit spaced out on the bleachers eating our lunches. "I mean, I get that it's sad, but you two weren't even really friends anymore, were you?"

I watch her take a bite of her grease-covered pizza, my stomach rolling as I watch her chew and swallow. I tear my gaze away, turning my attention to my fidgety fingers.

"No, you're right," I agree. "There's just something about the fact that he's in a coma that freaks me out. I mean, I've heard stories about people falling into comas and never waking up. What if this kills him? What if they can't wake him up? I mean, is that even a thing? Have doctors ever put someone into a coma and then not been able to get them out again? What if years pass and they finally just have to pull the plug? Doesn't that scare you too?"

"Of course," Justine answers defensively. "It's scary, but, girlie, you need to calm your buns. You're freaking out over something you heard from someone else. For all we know, he's eating pudding from his hospital bed while watching 'Friends' reruns and laughing at the nurses lame hospital jokes." Justine stops to level her gaze at me, her face softening as she inspects the concern tugging at my features.

"Stop fretting over the unknown," she says gently. "I'm not going to worry about something like that when it's only been a few days. Give it time Lynn. He was hit by a truck. Of course he's not okay right now."

"Yeah." I take a bite of my sandwich, the taste going unnoticed by my tongue. I'm just filling a hole in my stomach that doesn't care to be filled at the moment.

Rosa finds us a few minutes later and our conversation shifts to other, more trivial, topics. But as the three of us converse about the highs and lows of everyday life, I let my thoughts wonder. Images dance in my mind of what Jamie saw in those last moments, and I can only pray that reality is not as horrific as my imagination has made it out to be.

---

Hah! You were all were hoping to find out Jamie's condition, but I just wasn't ready for that. Next chapter is gonna be BIG though. Better get your popcorn ready!!!

How do you all feel about Clarice after this chapter? You warming up to her at all or do I still have some haters? Lol. 

Anyone got plans for this weekend? Cuz I DO!!! I've been living with my in-laws for 6 months (in their basement *cries*). But, this weekend we get to start moving stuff into our new place. Whoo hoo!!!!! Freedom is so close! :p