Chapter 2 2

The rudeness with which he blurted out those words made me feel frozen, made me feel like a bad person, a bad friend. I had been laughing at him and didn't bother to ask how he had been or why he disappeared for so long. I had been acting like an idiot. I'm starting to understand that Abbott isn't mad at me for laughing at him or making him run. Maybe he is to some extent, but more so for not showing concern about what happened.

"You didn't tell me," I whispered, running after him. He stopped at the entrance of the university, and suddenly, I felt small. Everyone was passing by us without paying much attention. He looked at me sternly and furiously, his neatly organized curly hair no longer seemed adorable at that moment. And his light brown eyes pierced my soul in a way different from how they usually do.

"You didn't ask me, I thought I wouldn't have to talk about it. In fact," he scoffed, "I thought you weren't interested."

"It's not that," I replied, "Damn it, I was born with the memory of a goldfish. I just wanted to lighten the mood, wanted you to relax a bit, and then I planned to ask you."

"Cora, we know each other. You're lying to me."

"We know each other," I repeated. "I'm not lying."

"Fine," he started walking. "Are you going to ask something?"

"I want to know what happened. She was supposed to be fine. It's impossible that she got worse overnight. I... I thought I was going to meet her, that the three of us could laugh together."

I was talking so fast that I saw Abbott scrunching his face in irritation. I know how much he hates it when I start rambling when we're talking about something important. People around us started to realize something was happening-some staring as Abott furrowed his brow and tried to breathe, others laughing at what I was doing-and he got agitated.

"That's enough," he shouted. The onlookers turned, and I blushed. "I'm sorry... damn it, I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"I started it," I admitted. "I don't know how to handle these things. I'm not very sentimental about this stuff, and I'm nervous. I'm sorry for what happened with your sister. I was so scared when you disappeared."

Calmer now, he took my arm and walked quickly so that no one could see what we were doing or hear our conversation.

"My dad lied to me, the doctors lied to me," he said, clenching his hands. "My sister was dying. That's why they wanted me to bring her here, so she could spend her last days here."

"About... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. You know you can talk to me whenever you need to, right?"

"That's not all," he tried to relax and started walking towards the classroom. "She died in my arms while we were on our way here."

I stayed there, thinking about what to say, how to act, how to react, or if I should offer my condolences. Few young people offer condolences to their friends. I had never dealt with a situation like this before. I know he's hurting, although I can see in his eyes that maybe not as much as he should be. I wondered what Abbott did while he was gone. If it was as he said, it means that when his sister died, he got lost in a country to distract himself, to escape the pain, to try not to drown in tears.

"You don't have to tell me anything," he continued. "I know you're sorry, I know you care about me, and I know you're already wondering where I was." He paused and looked directly into my eyes. We were standing in front of the chemistry classroom, and I knew he wouldn't talk once we entered the class. He held my shoulders and relaxed. "I stayed in Mexico to find some release. I explored places, and when I was okay, calm, I came back. My parents understood what I did. They cried, but they didn't punish me. Everything is fine."

"Where was she buried?" I stuttered.

"In the cemetery near the central park, it's close to us. She always wanted to be near it."

"You're very strong."

"I'm not," he concluded.

Abbott ended the conversation and entered the classroom. I stood still for a moment, thinking about what he had said. If he doesn't believe he's strong, he's crazy. He's the strongest person I've ever known. I wouldn't have been able to handle it; maybe I would have left. But I wouldn't have come back, wouldn't have wanted to relive the moment, feel like it was my fault, that I was holding her when she left this world.

Is that fair, to see the person you love die before your eyes? With everything that had been happening with Abott lately, I made the decision not to let him go for a while. I refused to leave him adrift, to let him dwell on what had happened. I wanted to distract him, make him feel free, and make him understand that his sister died in the best way possible.

In his arms.

As the chemistry teacher spoke, I would glance at him to see how he was doing. However, Abbott behaved normally. He raised and lowered his head to take notes, listened to what the teacher said, and laughed at her jokes. Seeing him as he always was shocked me. He acted natural, as if his sister were still in the hospital and alive, even better than that.

The class ended, and I ran after him again. I always seemed to be chasing him, and he would get annoyed when I did it too often.

"Cora," he muttered. "I'm fine, you can stop following me."

"I don't understand. How can you be fine? Are you pretending? You shouldn't do that. I assure you that letting out everything inside is better. Do it, Abott, it will help you. I'm here to listen, I promise I'll listen to everything you have to say and give you the best advice I can."

"You talk too much," he teased. "When I was in Mexico, I saw a psychologist every day, that's why I'm fine. It hurts, but I've accepted it. And I don't want you pestering me about it, okay?"

"Okay, I think I got it."

"Great, because you were acting like a pain in the ass."

"Sure, Mr. Perfect. I'm going to work now."

"Behave like a professional writer," he chuckled, trying to hold back his laughter, and opened the door of the university that led to the exit. "I hope you hear what you just said because it was ridiculous."

"Fine, I'm leaving."