The Boy with Bad Habits

Chapter 72

Where was I at with myself? Still trying to develop new possibilities on how I was to turn out after this. Ever since that day, those set of eyes had been ingrained into memory. That painting has never left my mind, and when all odds are against me I take refuge in what I've known best. Not drugs or alcohol but... writing. Well...writing hasn't always been my safe haven from the world but it had always made the expression of unexplained feelings easier to manage. Even so, the balls of paper rumpled on the floor showed just how futile that effort was. 

February was already here which meant Willow was soon to be eighteen at least I thought. She never actually told me when it was. Perhaps I jinxed myself in terms of the restraining order. Not too long after that day, my classes were rearranged firmly so I was unable to be within a hundred feet of her. It was unnecessary and made it so that the very few people I could tolerate were no longer easily obtainable to talk to anymore.

For hours on end I had been ripping pages out of my notebook trying to find any way I can to better describe to Willow what had happened when I was in New York. The time had come, and I was more than ever ready to give extensive details on how it all started. So that way in some way, she would come back to me and understand why I was so reluctant to love again. Remove this useless restriction and make things work. Start fresh possibly. Everyday after school I'd be holed up in my room waiting for the next day, just to see her. Sometimes if I was lucky, Willow and I would cross paths on the way to check the mail. Though the stairs would block my line of vision, overall it was a brief minute of joy followed by immense grief.

"Ace," There was a soft voice calling me from the other side of the door, as well as a knock. "Dinner's ready."

Nonna hadn't been able to reach me for a while. Oftentimes, I'd dine in my room. I had hardly said but a handful of words to her since January. "Alright," I responded.

Ripping the covers away to ease the rumbling in my stomach, I could smell the garlic chicken cooking on the stove. My absolute favorite.

Much to my surprise, Nonna came in with two steaming plates that looked positively divine. "What's this?" I asked referring to her entering my room and getting comfortable. She handed me my plate to which I hurriedly brought forward.

"I'm worried about you," her gentle eyes filled with concern met mine. The plate of food sat neatly on her lap while she took a seat on the edge of my bed.

After all this, she still continued to stun me on what a magnificent woman and caretaker she was. Aging in the most elegant way possible. A heart stopper in her prime and an empress in the present.

"I'll be fine," I reassured her picking at the food on my plate still too hot to eat. But I was beginning to think it was an attempt to reassure myself.

"I know it's about Willow, you're crazy about that girl. It'd be a shame if my prediction on what has happened is correct."

Desolation was initiating its feeling on me again. I just poked at the grilled chicken on my plate and pretended as if I wasn't hurting at that very moment. "Admittedly, I did mess things up. All my fault and I know that, no amount of advice you could give me will fix that." This was beginning to feel like the norm for me. Just averting away from the confrontation at hand. 

"I'm not here to advise you, I'm here to tell you a story." She uttered with a sad smile gracing her gentle features. Putting aside her untouched food, Nonna clasped her hands together and began. 

"There was once a girl who loved the idea of love. Romance just surrounded her and she couldn't help but want it just as much as the other person. Until a boy came to town. A boy as devilishly handsome as they came; one her parents warned her about. Of course this didn't phase the girl since she vowed to herself her heart belonged to prince charming not some gorgeous delinquent."