"No, I'm fine," she insisted, taking the edge of her sleeve and wiping away the blood hastily. "I can figure it out." * * * "What's the first line?"
She pulled away from him, her brow furrowed. "We're not together anymore, remember? So you don't have to worry about me." * * * He gave her a pointed look.
His words cut her and she blinked, trying to focus her glassy gaze. "Leave me alone, Landon," she said harshly, turning away from him and only stumbling slightly. * * * "You are Michael Jackson."
He hesitated, his brows furrowing as he stepped out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let me help you, Val." *** "No I'm not."
She pulled away, her hand still pressed to her head. "Landon, don't make this harder than it has to be, okay?! Just..." * * * "You definitely are."
"I.. I just want to help.." His voice revealed sadness, and he looked to the ground. "Okay.. I'll go." *** "No, I'm not."
"I don't need your help," she said roughly, her true feelings only betrayed by her voice cracking. "I'm fine on my own." * * * "I have proof."
She hesitated, glancing back at him for a moment with a concerned expression before she cleared her throat and headed for the street, trying to wipe the blood from her forehead. "Thanks for stopping," she muttered. * * * "I don't need anything else."
He shook his head, not saying anything before retreating to his car. He rested his head on the steering wheel, wiping away at tears. *** "Yes you do."
Val made it halfway down the block when the world shifted dangerously. She groaned, leaning against the picket fence of the house she had stopped in front of, and it took her a moment before she slid down and rested her head back, closing her eyes against the pain. * * * "By the transitive property..."
Landon looked up finally and noticed, he frowned before pulling up near her in his car, stepping out. "Val?" *** "Nerd."
She lifted her head weakly, squinting through the darkness for a moment. "Go home, Landon. I'm just... taking a break." * * * "Don't be rude, MJ."
She didn't reply for a moment, tipping her head back blearily to look at the stars. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Might make you feel better," she said quietly. "It helps me to be mean to you." * * * "Okay, goofus."
