Nothing was right. The room was spinning, and her head felt miles away. Everything was surreal. And despite this all, she forced herself to focus. Focus on the one thing that never in a million years did she think would ever happen to her. Her best friend was dead.
She was vaguely aware of what was going on around her, but she couldn't really bring herself to care. She felt Seth next to her, but she could sense that he was too stunned to try and help her. She was going to fall down. She couldn't stand it any longer. And then she was gone.
A few minutes she came to, Seth gently touching her face. She could see in his eyes that it wasn't a dream, and she quickly shut her eyes. She didn't want to deal with this. She didn't want to think about any of this. She just wanted to be home, talking on the phone to Marissa. With a terrible pang in her stomach, she remembered the very reason she felt so hopeless. She couldn't ever talk to Marissa again. Her head spun once again as she tried to grasp this thought, but she just couldn't.
"Summer," Seth called softly, hesitantly. She could tell he had no clue what the hell to do. She just shook her head. Seth couldn't do anything for her right now. No one could – not really.
"Please, just take me home, Seth." Summer couldn't even bring herself to look at him. She couldn't feel anything. She was numb, which she figured was a side effect of shock, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe being numb was better. Then she wouldn't have to feel.
Twenty minutes later Summer was lying in her bed, her mind still in overdrive. Seth had tried to stay with her, but she refused, and he obliged. He should have tried harder, she thought absentmindedly, well aware that she shouldn't be taking her pain out on him. But no one had ever been this close to Summer, no one but Marissa. And look how that turned out, she thought, but not able to bring herself to tears. What did she have to cry about? She was empty. There was no sadness, no anger. Just a hole. And that's how she fell asleep.
…………………
Summer hadn't returned any of Seth's calls, and whenever he came over, she always managed to find an excuse to make him leave. She couldn't face him. She couldn't face anyone, not when her best friend was gone. When she wasn't in bed, she was in the bathroom, sick. She forced herself to eat, only because she knew that Marissa wouldn't want her to be like this.
She listened to the messages, and that's how she knew Ryan was out of surgery, and how she knew he was going to be ok. It's how she knew when the funeral was, the funeral that she refused to go to. She still couldn't comprehend that Marissa was gone, and she was perfectly content with this, because she didn't want to understand it. Instead, she walked around her house blankly, watched hours of TV, and fell in and out of a restless sleep.
It was a Tuesday, two weeks later, that Seth came over. She was in her pajamas when she answered the door, her hair pulled up and greasy, her eyes blood shot.
"Oh summer," Seth whispered. "What are you doing?"
Summer looked at him defensively. "What do you mean, what am I doing?" she snapped back, aware that she had no reason to be so mean.
"You haven't talked to anyone in a week. You don't do anything but sit at home. You need to do something. Anything." Seth sounded so desperate, she almost felt sorry for him. She didn't mean to push him away. It was almost instinctive.
"You have no right to tell me what I should be or shouldn't be doing. My best friend just died, Seth," she replied bitterly.
She could see his eyes flare with anger, as he replied, "Yes she did, and you haven't done anything since then. You've put up that wall, Summer. You know you have. You don't want her to be dead, so she's not. You haven't accepted it, and now you're pushing away the people who still care about you. That isn't fair. Not at all." He sounded so accusing, she couldn't bear it.
"What does that matter?" she yelled. "She's dead. Nothing matters. Nothing at all."
Seth just looked at her, before calmly saying, "You matter. And all I want to do is help you, but you won't let me. Did you know I have been worrying every day about you, but I've given you your space because that is what everybody has been telling me to do? But I'm tired of it, because I know you too well to think that space will do you any good. All you'll do is exactly what you're doing, and that won't get you anywhere."
She looked at his feet, not trusting herself to look at his eyes. An irrational anger had broken out inside her, and she couldn't control it. Her voice was shaky when she spoke next.
"I need you to leave Seth. And please leave me alone. I can handle this just fine without you." She finally met his eyes, and she could see his heart breaking. He didn't try and argue with her. He didn't try to reason, or make her reconsider. He just turned and walked out the door.
Summer stared blankly at the white door that had just shut, before sinking down to the floor, and for the first time since Marissa had died, she cried. Huge, terrible sobs racked her tiny body. She sat there for what seemed like hours, not being able to stop herself. She was alone, and it was her fault. She felt hopeless, terribly abandoned.
She vaguely heard a tiny knock at the door, but she ignored it. The door slowly opened, and Seth appeared inside. He looked at Summer, who just stared at his feet. It seemed like an eternity before he sat down and took her in his arms. She cried even harder then, and she wasn't quite sure why. She just sat there in his arms for more hours, face buried into his chest, his had rubbing slow circles on her back.
She fell asleep like that, and he silently carried her to her bed and lay her down. He looked at her tear stained face, and the sadness was gone. He knew she would be ok then. Despite nothing being right, not everything was wrong.
A/N: This is the first story I have ever posted, so if you would be terribly kind and review that would be great. Thank you.