Disclaimer: Zoey 101 is not mine.
A/N: The end of Chase's Grandma, from his PoV.
XXX
"Do you want to be alone?"
The words, said softly and kindly, mingled with the pouring rain. His hair was soaked, his clothes as wet as if he'd just gotten out of a pool, his mood as dark as the storm currently raging around him. Outside was probably not the best of places to be right now, but out here, he had known he'd be alone.
And now she was asking him if he wanted this moment to himself. If he wanted her to leave him in his grief. His grandmother, his closest relative, the woman who had helped in raising him at least as much as his parents, had just died.
He wanted to be alone. He really did.
But the person standing a few feet from him in the pouring rain, her hair soaked, her clothes as wet as if she'd just gotten out of a pool, her mood as sad as the clouds hanging overhead, was his best friend, one of his closest companions, and (secretly, still) the girl of his dreams.
So he began to nod his head as if to indicate that yeah, he wanted to be alone right now. But then the nod turned into his head shaking back and forth and his face turning down towards his lap, his shoulders hunched forward as far as they could go. He felt her presence beside him in an instant, her hand going around his shoulders. She was in pajamas, little shorts and a tank top with a face mask over her forehead, and at any other time he would have admired her outfit in his mind.
But right now his grandmother was dead and it was their birthday and he loved her and missed her so much, so he let his head drop onto his best friend, his closest companion, the girl of his dream's, shoulder, and thanked God in the back of his mind that it was raining, because then she wouldn't see the tears coursing down his freshly-sixteen-year-old face.
He could only keep replaying the moment over and over in his mind as she patted his back comfortingly and held him closer…
X
"I'm gonna go put on my PJ's. Save me a birthday dance!" she called as she hurried out the door.
He watched her go with a small smile and then turned back to the room, where his birthday party was in full swing. His friends gathered around him and pulled him in farther, trying to coax him into dancing. The idea of her coming back soon in her pajamas wanting to dance with him made his mood lighten, his mind drift away from that all-consuming research paper and onto more fun ideas. As he made his way through the crowd boogying away to the music, he was greeted and wished a happy birthday, high-fived and slapped on the back and shoulder, given a crown to put on his head.
Yeah, that research paper was light-years away, he thought as he eyed the door, awaiting her return.
He and his friends were just about to toast to his birthday with some Blix when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the caller ID and saw it was his parents.
"Man, they already called twice today!" he exclaimed to his friends, who were watching expectantly.
"Maybe they just can't believe their little boy is growing up so quickly," one of his roommates and best friends joked, playfully pushing his shoulder as the call was missed.
"I better call back," he sighed with a grin and an eye-roll, and the group shrugged and went about partying.
He headed into the hallway, a finger pressed to one ear and his phone at the other.
"Mom?" he asked as he heard the familiar voice pick up.
"Chase, sweetie…"
"Mom, are you okay? You sound funny."
"Honey, there's no easy way to tell you this…"
He was getting nervous, something stirring in the pit of his stomach. "Tell me what?" he demanded, panicked.
"Chase, Grandma passed away an hour ago."
He didn't know what to say. His roommate and best friend came over and clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, but, seeing the birthday boy's stricken face, became serious.
"I-I-… what?"
"She went peacefully, in her sleep," his mother said, obviously crying over the line, and he could hear his dad's deep voice in the background offering words of comfort. "Pneumonia… she's had it for a while but didn't want to worry us… you know how she is…was… There was a nurse at the house… she called us…"
"I… I have to go," he said suddenly, still shocked. "I'm… I'm at my surprise birthday party."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry- we didn't want to ruin your birthday but we had to tell you- we knew you'd want to know…"
"I'll call you… later…"
"Alright, sweetie. We love you. Make sure to call back." She was nearly sobbing.
He hung up his phone, staring at it until his friend cleared his throat. "Chase? What's up?" he asked slowly, cautiously.
"My… my grandmother just died."
His best guy friend nearly gasped, his eyes going wide. "Oh… oh, man… I'm so sorry… are you okay? Do you wanna get out of here?"
"Yeah… um… I'm gonna go… no, no, you stay… if anyone asks just… tell them I had to work on my paper."
"Are you sure? I could-"
"No, seriously. Just… don't tell anyone."
"Okay, man. I'm really sorry, again."
"Yeah."
He walked out of the room, his face down. Soon he was outside in the pounding rain, the clapping thunder leaving little impact on him as he wandered towards the fountain in the middle of campus. There weren't too many students out, only ones traveling to and from other dorms, all enjoying their Saturday nights.
His grandmother was dead. He couldn't believe it. He let himself collapse on some stone lining the stairs by the fountain and stared ahead. Just keep looking forward, he told himself. Maybe this is all a bad dream. Maybe I fell asleep writing my research paper. Maybe my parents were playing a cruel birthday prank. Maybe…
But there were too many maybe's, and not enough definitely's.
He didn't know how long he sat there before he sensed someone else approaching. He knew it was her before she even said anything. His best friend, his roommate, had told her, even though he'd made him promise he wouldn't.
And he was okay with that. Because it was her, and it was always okay if it had to do with her.
She didn't say anything for a while, just watched him be miserable, a friend in need. He knew she felt helpless; she always felt helpless when there was nothing she could do, because usually she was Miss Solve-It, finding solutions to problems in a day or two. But there were no solutions for him right now. No scheme she could concoct or plan she could spin to make this all better.
So she asked him a simple question instead, probably already knowing the answer:
"Do you want to be alone?"
X
He doesn't know how long they sat there on the stone by the water fountain like that, his head buried in her shoulder and her arms around him. It's the closest they'd ever been before and he reveled in the comfort and safety he felt as she held him. After his tears had stopped and his breath had evened, he'd wanted to say something to her; thank her, maybe, or tell her he appreciated her kindness, or, in an act of stupefied craziness, tell her he loved her.
But she was the one who finally broke the silence, the rain still coming down, though not as hard as before. She whispered it in his ear, her breath tickling his skin, and it was a command, not a question: "Let's go inside and get dried off."
He obeyed simply, not about to struggle with her request. He could only keep thinking: my grandmother is dead, my grandmother is dead, my grandmother is dead.
She stood and pulled him with her, grabbing his hand tightly in hers and walking him through the rain to Fulton Hall, the girl's dorms where boys weren't allowed after 10:00 p.m. No one was in the lounge so she pulled him along to room 101, unlocking the door with the key around her neck and guiding him inside.
She let go of his hand, then, to grab each of them a towel. She handed it to him and when his eyes met hers for the first time since this whole ordeal had started, the brown was tinted with obvious concern, sympathy, and even a little sadness of her own.
He dabbed at his dripping face and arms and clothes in a haze. She tore through the bottom of her closet, producing a pair of boy's sports shorts and a large orange t-shirt, both of which were his. Where had she gotten them from? When? But he didn't voice the thoughts aloud because that wasn't important to him right now.
She answered the unasked question anyway: "We went to the beach right after we came back this year… you brought extra clothes and you forgot them. I've been meaning to give them back."
He nodded, staring at the orange t-shirt and silver shorts. His grandmother's favorite color had been orange.
That made his eyes start watering again. "I'll go change in the bathroom," she said, touching his shoulder as she passed by him and exiting the room.
After stripping off his damp clothes and putting on the dry ones, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, between the bunk beds and her bed, between the closet and the couch. He checked the time: 9:57. His party was going to be going on for a long time, even if he wasn't there.
She returned a minute later in sweat pants and a sweatshirt, her makeup washed away by the rain and her hair still wet. He could only imagine what his bushy locks were doing right now as they dried.
She took his hand again and sat him on the couch beside her. They sat close again, as if a new unspoken rule said they had to. She stroked his fingers with her thumb and made him feel, even just a little, that everything might be okay. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he followed suit by placing his own head on hers, her hair smelling good, reminding him of home.
He still had to call his parents back. Find out when the funeral would be. Leave school for a week or so to deal with everything at home. Then he'd have to make up all that work, all the while thinking of his grandmother, how much he missed her. He'd probably accidentally start writing her e-mails, or call her up on the phone, and then remember a moment later, and everything would hit him again.
It wasn't fair.
She interlocked their fingers and his palm was sweaty, and hers was a little too. "I'm here for you, Chase," she whispered.
"Thanks," he replied in the same tone, voice raspy.
This was not the way he had wanted to spend his birthday, and certainly not the mindset he'd planned to be in, but maybe, with a little help from his friends, he'd get through it.
XXX
End.