- Chapter Ten –

Dear Paul,

You're an egotistical pigheaded asshole who terrorizes me almost every day of my life, but apparently, I'm not allowed to be mean back to you. So here's the bullshit apologize my father made me write.

Sincerely not yours,

Alex

Paul,

I apologize for hitting you. Although you deserved it. So… you know, not actually sorry.

Alex

Dear Paul,

This is the formal apologize from me Alex. It was beneath me to hit you, as you're beneath me. I should never result to violence, but you tend to make me so angry I can't see straight. So, although you're a pigheaded butt-face, I have to apologize. Because it's right. And Because my father told me too. Feel free to make fun of me about this too, not that you need my permission. My breathing seems to be enough as is.

Alex

Dear Paul,

I'm sorry I hit you in your stupid face. I hope someone still finds you attractive enough to entertain the idea of being with you.

Alex

Dear Paul,

My mom is dying, and I hit you because I don't know how to feel this helpless. You pick and you prod, and you make me so mad. Sometimes I can't handle it, and I hit you because it always seems like you have no sense of whats right and whats wrong. Not that you care, but you hurt my feelings, and I wanted you to know what that felt like.

Cheesiness aside, I really am sorry. I should never result to violence. It's not the answer, and I'm deeply apologetic for it.

Alex

Dear Paul,

I'm sorry I hit you. Won't happen again.

Alex

- Chapter Eleven –

The note in her hand had been folded and unfolded so many times the creases were tearing. Shuffling from foot to foot, Alex looked over her shoulder through the rain. Her father had called ahead of time to talk to Paul's mom, making sure he got a check in on when his daughter arrived. The ran had started to come down heavily when she was halfway here, so she sprinted the rest of the way down the lane and finally through the woods where the Lahote house sat back in the trees.

Mustering up the stomach to finally do it, and get it over with, Alex rapped her knuckles against the door and put on a pleasant smile. It took a minute, but the shuffling of feet met by the unlocking of the front door led a tall slender older woman to the entrance. She shared a smile, looking Alex over with a confused glance, looking over her shoulder to the rain.

"He's not here Alex, I'm sorry. When I spoke with your father this morning he was, but he left shortly after. Won't you come in, get dry, I'll call your dad."

Her stomached dropped because she didn't want to have to do this again. Shaking her head, she declined the invite, backtracking off the porch and back into the rain. She ignored the shouts of Paul's mom, letting her feet carry her back into the woods at a steady pace as she fiddled with the note that would need to be rewritten by the time she got home.

Another week had passed, another week with no change, with no results. Her father wouldn't let her come to the hospital anymore. He claimed she needed to keep going to school, keep her grades up, but she knew better. He was deteriorating before her; his beard had grown out, they hadn't gone grocery shopping the entire time, and the coffee that stained his shirt from Wednesday was still there Friday.

The rain fell down hard on her as she shook from the wet and cold. Her eyes were clouded with her own tears let alone the storm, and her shaking hands couldn't keep the water from her eyes. Paul's house was only a ten-minute walk from hers, but she found herself still in the woods with the ten minutes passed. Her feet had carried her somewhere she hadn't expected, a clearing before her. The sun was tucked just behind the clouds, as she allowed herself to sink to the forest floor in the clearing, flowers around her.

She curled up into the a ball and cried, Paul's apology note left in the grass to fall apart.

- Chapter Twelve –

"Here." Paul Lahote dropped something down on her desk, his voice rough. Glancing up at the thing he put down, Alex furrowed her brows at her own cell phone. Grabbing it and trying to turn it on, she glanced up to ask Paul where he had found it, but his back was already to her as he headed out the classroom door.

Mr. Sander's called out to him but he ignored it, the door closing slowly behind him.

Her attention returned to her phone, the battery dead. It had a few scratches on the screen, some dirt in the seam around the edge. She figured she had dropped it in the woods on her way home a week ago, never to see it again. Her father had scolded her for not having her phone on her when he came into her bedroom at 2 am that morning. She tried to explain but he didn't let her get a word in edge wise, his attention too lost to notice the wet clothes of his daughter who was curled up in her bed.

She was getting over the cold finally. In her time of being sick, her mind always reflecting on that day of tears amongst the trees, she hadn't seen Paul once to give him his apology. Every word on the rain-soaked sheet had been washed away, so she tasked herself with rewriting it the next day. The words didn't want to work anymore, they were lost. She ever tried to rewrite the original ones but they felt forced, her mind long past the apology state.

Her mother was getting worse. Her heart remained steady, but everything else was failing. Her father stopped updating her two days ago. He stopped going to work completely, he stopped coming home. She saw him when she visited in the hospital. The last two nights had been tense, his cold shoulder not meant to hurt her, she knew that. But he didn't know how to process the pain he was feeling, so Alex sat up shop and did her homework as her father sat and watched his wife deteriorate.

She had submitted a project idea to Mr. Sander's, forging Paul's signature at the bottom. She had seen the question in Mr. Sander's eyes, as though he knew she had faked the young boy's signature, but he didn't say a thing. He only looked at her with sadness in his eyes as he approved it, and she turned away from him quickly, not wanting to see his pity.