[VicFuentes] I Want

[VicFuentes] I Want [ChapterNineteen]

Author's Note:
I'm not sure if I want to end this soon or not. I do know that I'm planning a sequel for this, though. It's going to be good, I think. I think it will be good. I was thinking about ending this at about the twenty fifth chapter but I'm not sure. Enjoy!

There’s really no reason to stay mad at someone you love, because eventually the love you feel for that person becomes so overwhelming that all the anger washes away and morphs into guilt that continues to eat away at you. It isn’t easy, not when he sees me hanging out with the guys: not when I talk to Mike about different drumming techniques, not when Tony makes me watch the Star Wars movies with me in order to teach me all about the phenomenon, not when Jaime and I go out for our morning coffee causing me to act like a mother when he suddenly gets extremely hyper.

At this point, I knew it was partly my fault for not making things better, for not trying to let everything go, for not truly listening to what he had said to me. Now, in total, it’s been eight days since the two of us had truly talked, since I met his parents, since Cara so loudly told Vic she still loves him, since things between us weren’t forced. I don’t want things to be forced, I want things to go back to the way they were, the time when the two of us were happy to be with each other; it was so much easier, so much more fun, so much better.

“Can we talk?” I'm making the first move, I'm taking the risk, I'm jumping and praying that he’s still going to catch me when I come crashing down, that he still has feelings for me, that he’s still willing to make this work, because I need him. Leaning my back against the frame of the bunks behind me, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans, not wanting to hear it when he rejects me, when he tells me no, when he shakes his head and silently dismisses me. Biting down on my lower lip, I feel the tears well up in my eyes when he doesn’t put the book in his hands down, when he doesn’t even turn his head to glance at me – he knows it’s me and he doesn’t care.

Sighing softly, quietly, though loud enough for him to hear because I see an expression of pain wash over his face before it’s quickly masked with nonchalance, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling pathetic – I am pathetic. “I, just, I don’t know. I guess, I, I just, I wish I wasn’t so insecure, you know, because, I, I totally destroyed everything I had.” There’s no way for me to know if he’s actually listening to me, if he cares, because his eyes are skimming the words on the pages of his book, his face is so unreadable, like a stone, emotionless and cold. “We don’t, we don’t have to talk, it’s, it’s okay. It’s probably too late to talk, anyway.”

I should have known that this would happen, that the two of us just weren’t going to work this out, that we waited too long, that the guys got way too involved, that I should have just used all my courage and whatever confidence I could muster up and talk to him sooner. Licking my bottom lip in defeat, blinking the swarming tears out of my eyes that were beginning to cloud my vision, I bite down on the inside of my cheek, just below the corner of my lips, turning around and slowly walking down the aisle of the bus, the deserted bus.

Nothing is all one person’s fault, there are so many people to blame for an event like this one, the victim for not standing up for him or herself, the perpetrators for ruining such a wonderful thing, the bystander for being just that – a bystander, a silent person whose voice could have made the situation less impactful. I couldn’t really say anything, not to Cara in fear that she would simply run off and tell Vic all about his terrible new girlfriend, not to his mother in fear that she would hate me more than she does now, but to Vic, something, anything, something more than what I said to him.