It was Wednesday when I first saw Dastan at school. My chest tightened just at the sight of him in his black truck, pulling into his parking spot that was normally occupied by his and, sometimes, Hayden's motorcycle. Today was one of those rare days I came to school with Cheyenne instead of Hayden. I was glad too, because when Dastan had parked his truck, three spaces down, Hayden's Ninja came to a speedy halt and I already knew Hayden's gaze went to Dastan's truck. I don't know if it was the first time they've seen each other since their fight, or the fact that Hayden's space was filled with a truck in which I had certainly never seen Dastan drive to school before. Let alone the person who climbed out of the passenger side: Mateo. As soon as they both were on the same side of the truck, continuing their conversation, they both looked over to me for a moment before Hayden's yelling towards them tore Mateo's gaze away. Dastan's vision stayed locked to mine, drawing me in with unreadable expressions of sorrow and regret.
And then, before I knew it I was walking over to them without hearing a thing Cheyenne was warning me about.
"I hope you're happy with your decision then," Hayden said, unimpressed towards the brothers. Dastan's eyes tracked my movement while Mateo held a hand up towards Hayden's chest.
"We know you aren't," Mateo said in a calm voice. He dropped his hand. "This really isn't the place."
It's amazing, really, how he was so calm in situations when his brother would normally just explode. Right now Dastan looked like he would implode, if anything.
"I don't really care at this point," Hayden hissed, gripping his helmet even tighter now that he had taken it off and his shaggy hair was left in a wet mess. That's when I met his side and grabbed his hand in an attempt to calm him down.
"Hey," I said cautiously. "Let's go."
His jaw line ticked as his vision stayed locked with one of the Vegas. I just hoped Dastan wasn't still staring at me. Hayden looked like he could explode at any moment. Hayden bent down for a reassuring kiss and then I heard a growl rip through our silence. Dastan had turned back to his truck and Mateo got a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to stop him. Dastan spun to face him, both of their eyes glowing. Mateo's shone into a bright golden color—along to match a specific superhero's costume—while Dastan's had the same glare that he had when he argued with Hayden last week. I swear there were flickers of red.
They seemed to have a silent conversation through their contrasting eyes before they looked away. Dastan stared down at the ground in a sadness that I didn't think he was capable of having. Hayden started tugging at my arm, but I subconsciously shook him off and tried to reach Dastan. When I took two steps, Hayden's grip tightened and then in the moment when I looked up to him with an expression that read "Did you seriously just yank on me like that?" Dastan appeared between us. He gripped Hayden's wrist, causing him to flinch, and then that's all it took for Hayden to let go.
"Grab her like that one more time. I dare you," Dastan hissed to him. I rubbed my forearm that Hayden grabbed so tightly and looked between the raging boys. "Leave the violence and rage towards me."
"I don't want her reaching out to you," Hayden notified.
"That's not your decision," Dastan reminded. "She can say and do what she wants. She doesn't need your permission."
"I'm her boyfriend and—"
"Exactly!" Dastan yelled. "You're her boyfriend. Your job is to accept her and...love her." Why did he sound so unsure? "Not dictate her actions, even though she had no right to try to reconcile with me in the first place..."
"You are such a jerk," I suddenly commented to Dastan. He sighed stressfully and looked up at the sky instead of down at me while I approached him. "You...you despise me every waking moment when everyone is around yet imply the opposite when it's just us. And still, you find it in you to twist whatever thoughts in your mind that I'm not good enough for you when it's you that causes all this shit."
Now, I didn't know if I was talking about just him...or hinting about his chance at his Proliator façade that also confused me beyond belief.
"So don't act like you care about me now when you're fighting with Hayden!" I finished. I wanted to cry out in offense. I didn't want to defend Hayden but I didn't want to defend Dastan's protective side either. I was...conflicted and mad.
Dastan didn't look at me. Due to his incredible height and the glare from the sun, I couldn't read his expression or eyes. I felt an arm across my shoulders and when I attempted to shake it off when I assumed it to be Hayden, the cool touch told me it wasn't him.
"Let's go," Mateo whispered, washing a cool sensation of calm over me. Somehow, he towed me away without any interruption from Hayden nor Dastan.
"They need to work it out themselves and you can't get involved," I heard him say, but his lips didn't move.
***
"You need to give him some space," Mateo told me as he walked me from homeroom to second period.
"Well I surely don't want him exploding on me," I scoffed.
"Well, Hayden does that," Mateo sighed.
"I was talking about Dastan," I informed. Mateo looked over to me.
"I wasn't," he informed. "My brother won't hurt you. It may seem like he will, but he won't. He can't."
"Look. It doesn't really matter what Dastan does or doesn't do because I'm with Hayden and if they're gonna be—" I stopped talking when a couple of students passed us by, one of them stumbling into Mateo which caused him to protectively maneuver so he wouldn't sandwich me into the lockers. But when his hand grabbed a hold of my wrist to steady me, our eyes connected.
From the depths of his changing gray eyes, I traveled through some sort of vortex as fast as the spread of his cool touch. I arrived at a scene of Mateo and Dastan in the front seat of Dastan's truck. I was in Mateo's perspective, looking over at the driver's seat
"I met her on Monday," Mateo muttered over the faint music of Mayday Parade. I was Mateo. I could feel his voice vibrating when he spoke.
"I know," Dastan sighed.
"I think it's time."
"I know," Dastan repeated.
"So then you need to stop acting like this and do something about it," Mateo concluded.
"I know," Dastan repeated.
"Dude, stop saying—"
"I don't know why we're talking, Mateo. I know what you're thinking and you know what I am, so stop trying to...solve this," Dastan suddenly said.
"Maybe Const—"
"Don't say it," Dastan hissed. "I can solve this myself...without your help or his, okay."
"I just don't want anyone to get hurt," Mateo said. "You of all people should just know that. That's the only reason why I mentioned—"
"Well stop," Dastan interrupted. "I can deal with this on my own."
"So I guess we're back to that, huh," Mateo scoffed with some pathetic humor in his voice. Dastan shifted positions as he drove with his left hand on the wheel. "She's changed everything, hasn't she?"
"You know the answer to that," Dastan whispered and then the scene vanished away.
As I pulled out of the vision, the tardy bell rang. I was still staring at Mateo's face and his expression was that of a deer in the headlights as if he made a mistake. He shuddered and gasped for air once as he backed away from me, but I couldn't understand as to why.
But at this point all I wondered was...did I just read his mind?
***
As soon as I got to Precalculus, I headed straight for Dastan. Even though he wasn't in Journalism, I somehow sensed he'd be in math class for once.
"We need to talk," I told Dastan. He looked miserable.
"No" he simply answered for once. Instead of his gaze being locked to mine like this morning, he stared at the desk he sat in. Last time I checked: he wasn't mute, he wasn't brain damaged, and he wasn't sick—all the things acceptable for not talking.
"Yes," I said, pressing my hands on the desk that separated us. "You talked all that you did this morning to Hayden, so then you can talk to me now about why he wants to protect me and what the hell you have to solve that involves me! Not to mention, when were you gonna mention you had a brother?!"
I wanted to yell that, but I only let it out in a hiss to keep it between us.
At that, he looked up at me with his lips slightly parted. It was his realization that I knew everything. However, if I knew everything, I'd know which one of them was the Proliator. It had to be one of them. I was sure of it. Positive. I was even surer that I was looking right at him.
Suddenly, Dastan slowly raised from his seat, his eyes burning through mine. The sorrow was gone, the aggression was back.
"Mateo and I aren't exactly talkers so you can stop fantasizing about how close we are to seemingly hype up what you perceive to be omission. Two, there's nothing to solve; don't worry about it. And lastly, if you honestly think Hayden wants to protect you then you're crazy," he hissed. "He doesn't care. No one does, so stop being stupid and thinking you're on the edge of some unsolved mystery. We're not friends and we won't be now or any time soon. I realize that enough for the both of us. So get used to Hayden and me fighting without your goddamn input so we can go back to being the punching bags we are to each other. Oh, and stop thinking that you can talk to me whenever you want. I've been avoiding you for weeks now, don't you get it? Take a hint."
I swear I just heard my heart crack. Or was that Dastan's metaphorical boots stomping on the pieces?
People in class, sitting or not, looked over to us and all I could manage to do was walk out with tears in my eyes.
"Miss Warden!" my teacher called out to me in concern or anger I couldn't tell, but I didn't listen. I broke out into a speed walk and then when I reached the end of the hall, Nik was leaning there with his arms crossed.
"And you didn't listen to me," he reminded in an 'I told you so' manner with a playful smirk. I couldn't even smack him over the head for that one. I just continued my path down the hall to reach my locker to claim my purse, but when I was about to shut it, Hayden caught me around the wrist.
I looked up at him with tear-glazed eyes and his mouth opened and closed as if he should say something, but then all he did was take me into a warm hug. I probably drenched the front of his t-shirt with my tears and snot (gross, I know), but he didn't pull away. He just kept shushing me and stroking my head in a calming manor. I pulled away, deciding that—although he had the bathroom pass in his hand—I didn't want him to get in trouble, especially when his class was adjacent to the one I just ran out of.
"I'm sorry. You can go back to class now," I told him in a murmur. I attempted to leave him then and there, but his grip tightened on my waist and I looked up to see concern on his emotionally broken face.
"Tell me what happened," he pleaded in a calm voice and a strained sigh.
"It's nothing," I lied. He gave me a look like countless of other times. "Dastan was being an ass like usual but—"
"That's it," he interrupted, letting go of my waist.
"Forget it. It's not that important," I muttered. I didn't want them to physically fight anymore...especially when I had a feeling that Dastan would come out unscathed like before.
"You're kidding!" Hayden accused. I gave him a confused look. "You're in tears, Angela—tears! I know that this morning he said our fight should stay between us, but when he says shit to you, that's crossing a line too."
"It wasn't his fault," I admitted. He shifted positions, ready to listen even though I knew part of him thought I was ridiculous for excusing even a fraction of Dastan's behavior towards me. "Mateo and I talked, well, sort of, in a way I guess, and I saw Dastan in class and just started questioning him."
"That doesn't give him the right to—" This time, he cut himself off. I took the initiative to leave him alone and just walk home, but he grabbed my hand before I even got three steps in. "You're not going home."
"Well I'm not staying here," I retorted.
"Yes you are," he said with a soft voice. He sighed and looked like he was controlling his built-up anger. "You need to be in that classroom, getting straight A's like usual. Don't let some idiot deny your right to be here all because he's bitching to you when he knows otherwise."
"Hayden, I just don't want to be here," I pressed. He suddenly reached down to kiss me. I felt a bit relaxed, but I was still sad and mad and...mixed up.
"You can't let him get away with that," he whispered against my lips. "You need to walk right back into that goddamn classroom, take your seat, and act like nothing happened."
"That won't solve anything." It won't solve the hole in my heart that Dastan ripped through, no more than the Proliator's absence.
"It'll piss him off," Hayden suddenly said. Hmm? "Vega's used to getting his way, especially if he can say a bunch of shit to rile someone up. When you waltz in unfazed by his douchebag-complex, it'll piss him off because he's not in control and then you've won."
What if I don't want to win?
"Are you sure that's the best—"
"Trust me," he smiled in his cajole. He ran a thumb beneath my puffy eyes, to wipe away the tears, and then kissed my cheek, forehead, and lips once more before grabbing my hand and walking me back to class.
I did as he said. I sniffed away my tears before I entered and lifted my chin. Then, when I almost stepped into the classroom whose door was wide open, Hayden spun me around by my waist and then planted a sweet kiss on my lips. It was the first time I had butterflies in my stomach for him. He flashed me a perfect smile when he pulled away and then nudged me into the room (thankfully, the teacher was out of view of our open PDA). I took one deep breath and then started to head to my seat without a glance to he-who-shall-not-be-named.
"Angela, can I talk to you?" the teacher asked, nodding her head towards her desk at the back corner. I forced a smile and met her there. "It's not okay to just run out of class. However, now that you're back, I can write you a pass for the counselor's—"
"Why would I need to go to the counselor's?"
"A couple of the students told me Mr. Vega said some very rude things to you, in which I hope to get him into as much punishment as possible. Your reaction is completely justified—"
"I didn't leave the room because of him," I lied. "I left because...I have really bad cramps."
"Cramps?" she repeated, unconvinced.
"Yeah!" I assured. "They just...mmh, hurt so bad. Shark week, right. It's a killer."
"Uh huh..."
"Anyways, I just stepped out to get my medicine from my locker."
"Sure," she said, more confused—no; her look was not of confusion. Her look expressed the typical composure of someone visiting a crazy person's asylum.
"So I don't have to go to the counselors," I insisted.
"Angela, you don't have to act—"
"That stupid, bast—b-word, narcissistic boy isn't going to make me run out of anywhere," I lied, covering my cussing and trying to think of any words but the curses that ran through my head at the moment. I ended with a smile shared with her and then I was sent back to my desk. This time, I looked straight at Dastan.
His jaw ticked with anger and his eyes were pitch black as he gripped the edge of his desk as if he could snap it in half at any moment. He watched every step I took when I walked to my seat in front of him. Although most would love this uprising moment, I didn't. With his rage, all I could feel was guilt and the sadness from before.
"He doesn't care. No one does, so stop being stupid and thinking you're on the edge of some unsolved mystery. We're not friends and we won't be now or any time soon. I realize that enough for the both of us. So get used to Hayden and me fighting without your goddamn input so we can go back to being the punching bags we are to each other. Oh, and stop thinking that you can talk to me whenever you want. I've been avoiding you for weeks now, don't you get it? Take a hint," I remembered as I sat down in my desk. And let me tell you, those hurtful words were nothing compared to what happened when I sat down. Before my ass hit the hard seat, Dastan stood up and slid the contents of his desk into his bag.
"Mrs. B, can I go?" he asked.
"Where?" she asked like a hundred times before.
"I have things to take care of," he answered like a hundred times before.
"Such as?" Did she ever say anything new?
Of course this is when Dastan would say something along the lines of "duties for Journalism" or that he "has to take an important test"...but he didn't.
"I...forgot I have to go to the office," he admitted. Aw. Ready to turn yourself in for a well-deserved referral for how you mistreat everyone?
"For what?" Mrs. B asked casually even though she was in the process of writing him up a mother of all demerits for the It Boy who could previously do no wrong. I still didn't turn my head to look at him but I heard him sigh loudly of frustration. His prefect facade towards authority was cracking.
"Mrs. B, can you just let me go? We both know my grade in this class and I have no purpose to be here," he finally snapped. Surprisingly, that was the rudest thing that's ever came out of his mouth towards authority.
"You can go," Mrs. B allowed before expressing that maybe the principal's office is where he should be after lashing out on me. And to think, he had Mrs. B under his spell so deep that she thought that comment was a good enough chastisement and forfeited the detention slip she had begun writing. Dastan ignored the commentary and took long strides towards the door and then turned to her.
"Oh, and I'm going to the office to get my transcripts by the way. I'm withdrawing," he informed. Right as he stepped out of the room, my hand shot into the air.
"Yes, Angela?"
"I think I need that counselor's pass."