Chapter 3

She flew down the hallways, wanting to go nowhere but her home. Her bed. Rachel wanted to burrow herself down in the sheets until it was quiet enough and dark enough to pretend that what had just happened did not just happen.

Rachel had never yelled at Nigel. What if he was mad at her? So mad that she became what every other person was to him. Invisible. Unwilling to think these thoughts, Rachel did, for the second time that day, something she promised herself she would never do. She ditched school. The supervisors were easy enough to sneak past and once she was off campus, she walked, jogged, the two miles home.

When she reached her room- small, blue, hers- she found herself thinking about Nigel yet again. He defined her; Rachel could not think of herself unless it was in terms of her bald, broken best friend. Sure, she was a cheerleader, honor student, shoe-in for class president next year, but Nigel was more striking and important than all of those things combined.

Eventually, the blonde teenager, who was buried deep, but not deep enough to escape these thoughts, under her covers, drifted off into a light sleep. Rachel's dreams were filled with what life would be like without him. Without the joy that filled his eyes while painting, without the rare, but so sweet, brushes of his skin against hers, without any hope of ever helping him.

The sensation of staring eyes shook her from these dreams. Her eyes opened to meet a pair of brown eyes, so dark they were almost black and so stormy it was like he could be watching a battle take place. Maybe he was; Rachel had always thought those eyes had seen so much more than was right. But there was something else, something deep within the eyes of her friend. Something she hadn't seen there ever in her memory. Hurt. "How long have you felt this way?" Nigel asked, no emotion in his voice to rival that in his eyes.

Rachel sat up and looked down at her lap guiltily. She had upset him. "Felt how?" That harsh tone from earlier had disappeared.

Nigel walked over to her desk and sat down in the chair. "I made you this way," he stated simply.

And there wasn't much she could say to that. Because she knew as well as he did that it was true. On a normal day, Rachel would've denied it. Flat out. But things had not exactly been normal, and she no longer trusted herself to know what Nigel needed. "I think, maybe, we both did this." Rachel stood up from her bed and walked forward to stand in front of him. "I won't lie any more, Nigel. You've hurt me," she paused, a lump stuck embarrassingly in her throat, "so much." Rachel let her eyes flutter close as she reached out her hands slowly to touch his.

Their hands lay perched on the top of the chair and she could've sworn his tightened the smallest bit around hers. "You're my best friend," the blonde girl continued, "and for the last four years everything in my life has revolved around you. I mean, how bad is it when a simple smile from your best friend can brighten an entire week?"

Nigel nodded slowly. "It shouldn't be that way for you, Rachel. You don't need to worry about me anymore." His thumbs brushed so, so lightly across her wrist, making her shiver as always. "I shouldn't be a project of yours. You'd be much better off without me. I'll be fine; I have painting." The words left his mouth confidently. Nigel was not trying to convince himself of their truth. He believed it.

Rachel could feel the tears well up in her eyes. She couldn't cry. Rachel T. McKenzie did not cry. Under any circumstances. She was supposed to be the strong one. Nigel leaned on her and it could never be the other way around. She stared down into his emotionless eyes. And Rachel lost all strength. A day of firsts. "I don't want to leave you," she whispered. Don't say it, Rachel. Not that word, not that word. "I n-n-need you."

The room was suddenly filled to the brim. Those blue walls just not wide enough to hold them both. Why was it that all this had to come out? Rachel was supposed to be like a brick wall, unbending, standing erect on his own. And, Nigel, he was like the person who leaned against the wall to take a quick breath. The wall didn't need the person. But Rachel undoubtedly needed Nigel. She needed the glint in his eye when a paintbrush hit his fingers, she needed the occasional smile that shone on his face, she needed the feeling of his fingers around hers, she needed the sound of his voice, controlled, never unsure.

Maybe, she and Nigel were just two people. Leaning against each other to catch a breath.

The feel of his hands, sliding up her arms, neck, to rest against her cheeks, overwhelmed her. "You could have told me," Nigel said.

Rachel shook her head slowly, rustling her gold hair. "Would you have heard me?" she asked him. But already she knew the answer.

And there, there, was the emotion that had been missing from his eyes for too long. Guilt, sadness, fear, hurt. So much emotion that she had to wonder how he could even feel that much. "There are just so many things I don't know, Rachel. And sometimes I feel so unbelievably empty. Like I'm a fraction of a person. But, you have to know that you're the only person that makes me feel anywhere near full. When I paint, you being there is what makes me happy." Nigel ran a piece of her hair between two fingers. "And that scares me. Completely terrifies me. I think I'm afraid that if I stop waiting around for all the answers, I'll never find them. But I'm also afraid to look. And, Rachel, I'm so, so sorry I've put you through hell. You don't deserve it in the least."

Under his fingers, Rachel could feel her skin redden. When her eyes met his, there was something so close to warmth and no trace of black. "I'll look with you," she promised.

Slowly, painstakingly so, Rachel brought her forehead to his. And, pressed this close, it was easy for her to pretend they were all that mattered on Earth. That there was no mystery, no questions; nothing was unexplainable. There was only the two of them and that was all they needed to know.

Nigel closed the gap between them. Pressing his lips firmly to hers. And a promise was sealed; a promise that whatever it was, they'd find it together. But, in the meantime, Rachel didn't need to spend any more of her time looking for Nigel Uno. Because he was there; and he always would be. Especially when either of them needed to catch a breath.

A/N: Nigel and Rachel are so dramatic and heavy. Anyways, on to the Epilogue aka The Chapter Where Everyone Meets At Abby's House! I'd like to give Thanks to all my lovely (or handsome) reviewers and everyone that told me to keep writing this all the way back in Chapter 1!