Stormie

Chapter Twenty One - Austin

Austin

        Sam had a very good way of putting words in your mouth. It was as if she already knew what was coming, she was protecting herself by delivering the blow in her own voice.

"Why? Just why are you back? Do you think it's fun to mess with me like this?"

I had followed her into the practice hall, knowing if I avoided talking to her anymore, I'd go insane.

It was hell playing on stage, knowing I needed to be there for the band but wanting more than anything to pull her away from the crowd, away from whichever guy had his hands on her. She did it deliberately because she knew how much it affected me seeing her around someone who could possibly be better for her than me.

We were not good for each other. By nature, she had a destructive personality where it made sense to wreck people and prevent the future from happening.

I thought too much about us in a context that would never be reality. Maybe we could have lasted a year, maybe even two. But eventually, the attraction of similar opposites would wear out and we'd be left yelling and fighting about things that didn't matter; ending up nowhere, stranded with our hearts laid out across the table.

"This hurts. It hurts a lot, is that what you want to hear? Seeing you, acting like nothing ever happened, god, it kills me. I haven't forgotten, and I'll be remembering it for the rest of my life."

"Is everything that happened really that awful to even try to remember?"

"Was kissing me really that bad?"

I grew up with a best friend who spent more nights on my couch than in his own house. Zach and I grew up on opposite sides of town, I always had money for lunch and Zach used to beat up the younger kids at recess for spare change.

For some reason, and one I'm incredibly grateful for, we became best friends. He saved my ass from so much of the stupid shit I got myself into. I liked to test my luck, to act like I was invincible just to spite my dad.

Zach was raised by his grandparents, his life story had always been a little foggy. My parents always tried to get him to open up, to let out what he was feeling, what he'd had to deal with. Zach knew everything about me but for a while, I knew his first and last name and that was about it.

I never understood why people liked to keep their lives bottled up inside them. Zach would just brush it off, tell us it was fine when his arms were covered in bruises and he'd show up crying at my doorstep in the middle of the night.

I realized him and Sam were alike in that way. They thought it was easier to be selfish and keep their problems to themselves when they both had no idea how many people were willing to help.

When we were ten, I once told Zach I was going to kill whoever gave him the long scar stretching up his whole right arm and he told me, don't worry about it, it'll fade one day. It's no big deal. It was actually a big fucking deal.

I traced the storm cloud tattooed on her neck, being rejected of an answer seconds after asking what it meant.

"I'd never forget anything you told me, Storm."

"Because I don't want to regret telling you."

When we were fifteen at band camp, I told Sam my favorite song at the time was Castle of Glass by Linkin Park. I played a sample of it from my computer and instead of saying anything, she just smiled and nodded. For the next six months before the next camp session, I learned and memorized every chord progression in the song and as soon as I saw her next, I sat her down and played the entire song.