"So you're sick?" I ask him.
He doesn't respond.
"Too much soda?" I say smugly.
I don't mean for him to take it the way he does. I mean it as a joke, but he gets up and leaves.
I follow him into the hall, turning off the lights on my way out. I don't know if I'm angry or worried. Upset or pissed off or just... I don't know. "Aiden," I realize. "I don't even know where the nurse is."
"What does it matter?" he says more than asks.
"Is that where you're going?"
He stops in his tracks. He glances at me over his shoulder. "I don't need a babysitter, and I don't need you. Leave me alone."
I turn around, abruptly. Away from him. "You know what, whatever. You wanna be alone, be alone. You want to be a crappy person, be a crappy person, but don't expect me to stay around and take it." I don't know where I'm going, but anywhere's better than this. I start walking. "Excuse me for giving a damn about whether or not you were dying. I won't feel guilty if someone finds you dead in the halls."
"I know you won't."
I just ignore him. I don't know what else to do.
When I'm a little further down the hall, he says, "Nice to know."
I look at him even though he's not looking at me. "Nice to know what? That I won't feel guilty?"
"No. How you treat liars," he says plainly.
I cock my head back. "Excuse me?" I stare at the back of his head.
He stops. He turns around and looks down at me like I'm the dirt beneath his feet. Then he keeps walking.
I sigh, clenching my fists. "If you have something to say Aiden, why don't you just say it?" Now I sound like Carson.
Aiden doesn't stop. "I don't want to make a habit of making a spectacle of myself."
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