29. Noah #4
Franny struts in behind him with a helium balloon shaped like a stork, and Thomas wheels in the glorious fairy lit cart. I nudge Sienna, who stands beside me chatting up her friend Grace, and her eyes look at me before turning to the surprise.
"You're kidding me!" She shouts, practically jumping in place as she hobbles over the rest of the way to inspect my handy work. She looks to me, a 'kid in the candy store with unlimited budget' expression on her face. "How?"
"Magic." I give her spirit fingers.
The crowd gathers around to watch Thomas do his thing, Sienna and the group mesmerized by the excitement and show biz of it all.
I stay in the middle with Georgie, holding her hand.
She's gone quiet, even quieter than earlier. I can see her face shining in the fairy lights glow, but it’s not from makeup or from the fairy lights...
she's clammy to the touch, her hands cold, and her face flushed, and I know.
I know something isn't right, but I can't say anything because we're here in this throng of people, and I can't get us out.
I look for Franny, but she's well off in the front, eating her ice cream and completely oblivious.
"Noah, I can't eat ice cream," Georgie hisses.
"You sure? He has some dairy-free options; I made sure—”
"It would do damage in more ways than one, I think," She comments and laughs to herself, but she looks pale. Too pale. She's... really not looking okay right now.
I turn to face her, to reach out to her, something. "Georgie."
Interrupted by a neighbouring voice, I hear Derek, Grace's husband, ask around a mouthful of his ice cream. “Do you smell that?"
Grace sniffs, her nose scrunched up in distaste, "Something... yeah, something. How do you even describe that smell?"
I feel Georgie stiffen beside me. I can see her pale complexion in my peripheral vision. She sways where she stands, and I turn to catch her.
"Don't." She pulls away just as she rights herself. She takes a step back, away from me and flashes me the fakest smile I've ever seen, and I feel that pit of despair come flooding back in. "I'm... just gonna... I've gotta... Excuse me. "
She stumbles through the crowd, and it's not hard to follow her as she quietly exits the backyard and down the driveway. I catch up with her quickly, "Georgie, it's okay. Please. Tell me what's going on."
She stops, turning back to look at me. Her mascara is smudged, and her face, God, her face is so fucking pale and she shakes with every step she takes. "Go back to the party, Noah. Please."
"No." I step forward, she takes one back. "Georgie, you have to talk to me."
"I don't! I need you to stop. Just—stop. This, it's too much. God, it's so cold,"
"It's... It warmed up a bit from earlier, Georgie. Are you feeling okay?" Nothing.
"You're... you're not well again, are you?" I ask.
She says nothing. Just flashes her dagger stare at me, and I know the answer.
"And you're not telling me things again, aren't you?"
Again, nothing. She shivers and holds her arms around her middle, and tries to keep the tears in her eyes from falling.
I step forward again. She steps back. This dance we play has to end. I can't take it.
"Don't. Just... I'm sorry," Her voice waivers.
"You promised you wouldn't do this."
She glares at me. "Don't fucking guilt me right now."
I hold up my hands, "I'm not trying to. Can we please talk—"
"No. You promised me space if I asked for it. This is me asking for space."
"Georgia,"
"Don't call me that. Please understand, just... please." She stumbles, holding her head in her hands. She's breaking, and she won’t let me near her to help her. It's tearing me apart. I feel my chest pinching to bring in air.
"I don't think I can understand. Why won't you let me near you? Why won’t you let me in?" I pause, unable to articulate my feelings, wondering how in just a few moments things could've gone this poorly.
"I can't..." She shakes her head but it throws her off balance, swaying to and from. She touches her face, eyes wide as she stumbles. I lurch forward to hold her up, her name on my lips.
She's burning against my skin. I swallow hard, terrified. Pressing gentle hands to her face, I coax her to sit down on the edge of the flowerbed. "Don't move. Georgie please, don't move. I'm going to get Franny. Please, please don't go anywhere. We can get some help..."
I kiss her forehead, silently begging her to listen, to stay just for once.
I feel my heart pounding in my chest, the need to get Franny, to ask her what to do, how to get Georgie to realize I'm here and not going anywhere.
When I do find Franny, and tell her about Georgie, her face pales.
She takes off running with me to the front of the house.
The moment I go through the gate, I know the sound echoing down the street, the bus groaning its way over the speedbumps, driving on its way to who knows where.
I know, in the pit of my stomach, the error I made in leaving her alone like this.
When confronted with vulnerability, Georgia Wright is all flight, no fight left to give.
I know the second the bus drives by, the way Franny turns back to me, that Georgie is gone.
My heart absolutely shatters.