Oreo Ice Cream

Chapter 19| Jigsaw puzzle

"Lee," Tris's voice caught me off guard. He came closer to him, "you know what, you're being overdramatic." He breathed heavily; his ears were hot red, and his cheeks were pale pink. His eyeballs were burning blues. Anytime, he'd punch Lee on the ground. I was sweating in fear, in disgust—in every freaking thing. And all of a sudden, I felt so ashamed of myself. Had I not been here...

"Aren't you?" Lee's voice was dangerously calm. His eyes flit to mine for the briefest of seconds. I knew he was disappointed. More than that, he was upset. Upset of me, by me, because of me. A part of me told me it was cheating—an emotional drowning for everyone.

Tristan muttered a string of curses under his breath. He was fuming, and so was Lee. The tension grew more when they almost came nose-to-nose. Anytime, blood would spill on the ground. My heart pounded faster. I rubbed my hands on my thighs; I was helpless. I tried to scream for help and stop them—but God! My voice was lost.

"You kissed her!" Lee's loud voice boomed in my ears. More than that, it sounded dirty. I gasped in shock—I should tell him Tris wasn't to be blamed. I could feel my eyes burning and aching in self-pity and self-disgust.

"You fucking kissed Flora, Tristan. You're a dick." Lee spat. I had never heard Lee cursing out loud at anyone. Never have I ever expected him to say words like that. His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before meeting Tris's again. He was now being too much.

"You're an asshole—you know that, Lee?" Tris snapped. I breathed faster before grabbing his arm and whispering, "Tristan, please—"

He let go of my hand and stepped closer. "You know what, it's not something I should regret for. I fucking did the right thing!" The air thickened rapidly, and the ground beneath me trembled. The kind of thing you feel when you clean your sugar-coated fingers with a tissue instead of washing them in water. Even after that, a wave of relief swept through me. 

"You fucking did wrong. If Jane comes to know about this—"

"Go the bloody hell and tell her! I don't care. You dare speak anything wrong about us—"

"No one gave you the right to kiss her!" Lee's voice softened. His eyes glistened; he was on the verge of crying.

"And you do not have the right to tell who should kiss her and who shouldn't. She isn't your fucking sister or something." Both of their voices rose. Tristan told me—what? He- he called me— Lord! I never expected him to say... But I knew he wasn't wrong, or maybe he was. Not all times are the teens incorrect—they, too, have things to say or deal with. And in this case, it was Tristan. 

Their eyes were red in rage, and soon the air was filled with short, loud pants and strings of curses. They were fighting over me. Did that make me a thing? Was I something to fight over? The thought shivered me. Part of me felt like maybe I'd turn as the reason for ruining their friendship. And in a second, they were in hand-to-hand combat. I screamed at them to stop, tears welling in my eyes. I didn't know what to do. They were punching each other's faces, holding each other's hair in their fists, and clashing. The music came up low; people were laughing and squealing in joy. And here we stood—arguing, fighting, and breaking each other's noses. I felt ourselves out of this world for a moment, fighting, crying, and messing. 

After a full two minutes, Tristan finally let go of Lee. Their lips were bloody red and split. Lee's eye bags were dark and hair rumpled, and so were Tristan's. Both of their chests heaved up and down rapidly as the latter wiped away the sweat and blood from his face with the back of his hand. I looked at their eyes to and forth before finally speaking.

"I think..." I sighed before closing my eyes and taking deep breaths; I was suffocating now—on the verge of crying at any second. "we all are sorry now." I bit my lower lips. I feel like crumbling up like a piece of paper and getting thrown out of the window to at least get some fresh air to breathe. I was surviving this situation now—surviving and living never get together. Much like "food for living" and "living for food."