Mere seconds had distorted into hours on end. Before the realisation dawned on me, my classes for the day had concluded. It was an oddly cruel twist of fate; whereas the days usually felt dreadfully prolonged, today went by in a flash.

Every word, from my teachers' classes down to chitchatting with Jess, went in one ear and came out the other right away.

My brains were too occupied with the turn of events, from Ethan's cold shoulder to Victor's apparent change of personality - and to second-guessing whether or not I should commit to changing schools.

I absent-mindedly paced out of the classroom onto the building's exit.

In the corner of my eyes, Mrs Dhelia beamed me a quick smile as I passed by the front desk office.

I lifted my hand to greet her back without ushering a word, then left the main building.

As I paced towards the parking lots, I found my thoughts slipping back to my potential transfer progress. It was an idea that had been suppressed all day since my run-in with Victor. It had done me good to hear he was willing to shed light upon the actual happenings of that accursed day.

I was hopeful, faithful even. However, a part of me braced itself for another cruel twist of fate. Perhaps, I was unable to let the boy in, to trust him after he had cast me aside for so long. But that was only natural, no?

I succumbed to further thoughts, mindlessly wandering until something in my peripheral vision drew my attention.

Ethan sat between the fence and the gymnastics building, back slouching against the chainlink fence. He occasionally shifted a wee bit, yet his gaze was fixed on the tiles below.

I wondered what he was feeling, yet, after our encounter earlier today, I knew not if it was correct to approach. Not anymore. The faint trace of confidence I held dear to heart - albeit it lasted only briefly the other day - was no more. No, I was uncertain after he shut down my previous attempt.

I was about to walk on when something glistened in the corner of my eye. I looked on toward Ethan, and though it was no more than the sunlight bouncing off the gym's windows, I also spotted a tear clinging to his chin.

Something was up.

And here I was, afraid to act.

I shook my head, dismissing the fear for a moment of mental clarity; Ethan was going through something rough. Perhaps we parted ways on a sour note the other day, but miscommunication should not be the end of things, right? If it were supposed to be as such, that'd mean Victor's future efforts would be all in vain. I had to hold hope: I could - I should help out, even if with a simple gesture of compassion.

With stilled breath, I drew near.

Ethan's gaze rose from the floor when he noticed my approach. He shifted his head a wee bit, revealing several tear trails from his mellow eyes. Ethan opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but his voice had all but given out, leaving only a thickening silence between us.

I reclined against the chainlink fence, slowly sliding down until I sat parallel to Ethan. Glancing at Ethan, I noted his chin had dipped back down again.

"H-Hey?" I stuttered hesitantly, which received me an attentive look, albeit brief. Ethan had mumbled something along with a quick nod.

In the past month that we had known each other, I had never seen Ethan's mood so sour he would shy away from a conversation. Whatever was on his mind greatly troubled him. That much was certain, without a doubt.

I contemplated posing a rhetorical question, inquiring whether he was doing well. Regardless of my social ineptness, it did not take a psychic to pick up on the cues.

Instead, I opted for a more blunt, direct query.

Mulling it over, I laid a hand on Ethan's firm, broad shoulder, which caught his attention.

He gave me a sad frown as I returned a look of concern.

"What's wrong, Ethan?" I asked, my eyes unmoving, scanning for anything in his body language that would grant me more insight.

Ethan's shoulders tensed up, clearing his throat.

He tried to avoid making eye contact; however, our gazes intertwined briefly.

Ethan let loose a shallow sigh, following up, "Brianna," mumbled Ethan cryptically - forming tears began to well up.

I took notice, realising this - though sensitive - was the moment to dig for answers, "What's up with her, Ethan?"

As the words came out, Ethan's features had grown heavy; his lips no longer bore a coy, mixed smile; instead, they had distorted into a grimace. Similarly, his eyebrows had sunk a wee bit in place, accentuating the emergence of dark bags below his eyes.

A tear dropped as the boy murmured under his breath, "It's her birthday tomorrow, and I have yet to visit her."

His phrasing left some room for my own interpretation. Perhaps, his parents had divorced, with Ethan and Brianna no longer living under the same roof?

He mustered up a bleak chuckle upon spotting my apparent confusion sheening through my reserved demeanour. Likely realising I required a bit of context, Ethan reluctantly began, "Brianna hasn't been living at our place for a while now." Soon as the last word came out, he ducked his head.

"Our?" I inquired, earning myself a quick, curious glance. I elaborated, "Sorry! It's just - with the way you mentioned you haven't seen her - uhh," I stumbled over my words, "I figured your parents, erm."

Ethan's gloominess faded out, replaced by a peal of sudden laughter.

I knew it was my social ineptness that forced a smile upon his face, and though I figured I must have clowned myself, I did not care; his smile was worth more to me.

"No, no!" He raised his hand a bit, waving it around as his joyful laugh went quiet, "My parents have been happily wed since long before I was born," explained Ethan continuing on, "However, Brianna-" his tone soured, face contorting back into a murky frown, "She's been hospitalised for a fair few weeks."

I did not know how to answer, apart from the evident need for caution and sympathy.

I contemplated briefly, then decided to inquire, "Can I ask what happened?"

The question earned me a pensive stare.

Ethan then nodded, "A little while ago, Bri and some friends of hers had settled on the idea of visiting an art gallery for a school project. They called our parents and told us Brianna had never arrived at the destination. It was nothing for her; she was always early, unlike the rest of the household."

His voice was quivering, tipping over and falling into the metaphorical depths of silence - unable to proceed. "After an hour of nailbiting, with hundreds of scenarios blitzing through our heads, they finally found Brianna. She was unconscious by the side of the road."

I was taken aback, barely able to go on, "W-What happened?"

"They found her bike completely smashed apart," mentioned Ethan, "So, I presume some bastard crashed into her and left her out in the cold for hours til help arrived." Venom oozed from Ethan's tongue; a sudden fury had triumphed over the sorrow in his eyes. Yet, in its wake, tears streamed down every last contour of his face.

"Have you-" I hesitated, "Have you visited her?"

Ethan cupped his hands, ducking and lowering his head into his palms, shaking slightly.

"...No," answered the boy, immediately clarifying when I raised a brow, "I've not had the guts to."

With those words, Ethan's swirling emotions came to an abrupt halt; there was no more anger in his voice or posture. There was only a deeply-rooted turmoil radiating from within the boy. Where once was sadness, now only clung remorse.

As a few tears streamed down Ethan's cheeks, I felt backed into a corner. My mind was overwhelmed by the revelation. Now was not the time to wonder, but thinking back to this morning, I realised Brianna's condition was why he gave me the cold shoulder.

It was both a relief and a burden to carry.

I was glad yesterday's events did not screw over our blossoming friendship. And still, at the same time, I sat here, watching Ethan hurting.

Ridden with a great sense of uncertainty, I feared both overcaution and bluntness would do more harm than good. Instead of directly confronting Ethan, I figured it'd be best to nudge him in the right direction, though gently.

I took extra care that both my wording and tone could not be misinterpreted wrong again, "Why haven't you?" I inquired under my breath.

"Brianna's been on my mind since the incident occurred, Xavier. I can't bear the very thought of seeing my bedridden sister lying unconscious for God knows how long. Let alone actually seeing her."

I tilted my head, peering into Ethan's tear-filled eyes; a few strands of hair fell before mine. "Still, you're hurting. Perhaps, visiting your sister would do you good, Ethan."

Ethan frowned, abrading his neck, pondering over my remark. "I suppose you're right."

A short-lived silence befell us.

Continuing, Ethan's gaze shamefully dropped to the floor as he added, "Could you, er," stumbling over his phrasing, "Xavier, can you please tag along?"His request struck me dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry, it was a stupid thing to say," Ethan jumped in before I could answer.

"No, no!" I hastily replied, "I'll go with you."

Ethan got back on his feet, extending his hand to me, mustering a weak "Thank you. It means a lot."

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- 16/03/'23