We Were Giants

Chapter 30

Cameron and Isaiah are laughing obnoxiously loudly as I join them at the lunch table. Kayla makes eye contact with me and raises her eyebrows.

See, her look tells me. I told you so.

I ache because I haven't made Isaiah laugh like that in a long time. Maybe not since we started dating. I ache because Isaiah's always busy lately. I ache because when he's not busy, I'm knee-deep in art, trying to finish my portfolio for the art show. I ache.

"Hey, hot stuff," Isaiah smiles as I take my obligatory seat next to him.

Has our flame burned out already? I feel like a Bangles song. I feel like I have no idea what's going on. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed.

"Hey babe," I smile and lean into him. His presence is still comforting, even if I feel so unstable.

I know I should talk to him and sort things out. I know I should tell him how I feel. But I don't want to make things awkward if there's really nothing to worry about.

I wish I had somebody to talk to. Isaiah was usually my confidante, but the problem is him. Kayla and I haven't talked since January. Thad, Josiah, and Cathy are friendly enough, but I can't confide in them. I'm more alone than I've ever been. I don't even have Mom anymore. Dad's taken her back.

"What's wrong?" Isaiah puts his arm around me. I don't pull away, even though I want to.

I notice Cameron out of the corner of my eye. He looks concerned for me. I must really look awful if the home wrecker is concerned.

You've got to stop, I tell myself. Cameron is not a home wrecker.

"Just tired," I sigh, which isn't a lie. I've been pushing myself hard to keep up with school and keep my art going. I've devoted every ounce of creativity in me to the Kintsukuroi Boy series, telling the whole story of a beautiful broken boy across mediums. I've shown the story evolve from humble beginnings in pen and ink to acrylics and watercolor and pastels. I've mixed mediums and created a cohesion in my pieces that I wasn't expecting. I've remade my portfolio completely since January. And my brain feels strained perpetually.

"I'm sorry," Isaiah looks concerned. His massive hand rubs my neck and I melt into a useless puddle.

"You're tense," he kisses my neck just below my air. It sparks electricity through my body and suddenly I'm wide awake.

"The title of my autobiography," I laugh.

"You guys are disgusting," Cameron laughs, throwing a napkin at us. "I'll find that one day, right?"

See, I tell myself. Cameron's not a home wrecker.

"You'll find that one day," I smile at Isaiah so broadly I feel my nose crinkle.

Why is it so hard to doubt his loyalty when we're together and so easy when we're apart? Am I projecting my insecurities? Am I trying to make our relationship fall apart because my parents did? What does it mean that theirs is repaired but I'm still trying to break my own?

"Are we going to do anything for Valentine's Day?" I ask Isaiah. I've been trying to ask him in private, but it seems he's always with Cameron lately. Cameron's our perpetual third wheel. Or maybe I'm the third wheel.

I see his face drop.

"I mean, we don't have to," I try to say quickly. "It's just you're my first boyfriend and I didn't know and I'm not really sure how this works."

It's just that I made you another flipbook and those things take forever to make, and I know I've already made you a flipbook but they're the best way I can show someone I love them, my brain rambles even after my mouth has stopped.