Luca
I think I might be drowning in my own thoughts. I fail to shut my brain off, sometimes. It takes away from me the ability to sleep. I'm so tired, my eyes feel heavy but I cannot get to sleep.
It obviously has everything to do with my messed up life. Must it be so damn difficult?
I groan and put a pillow over my head.
God, I'm the word regret personified.
When I decided I had to go see Aubrey first thing after I came back, I made the second biggest mistake of my life. When I shamelessly intruded into her house then into her only safe place, I made the third biggest mistake of my life.
I honestly don't care if it was a bad move, which I'm too certain it was. As long as I got words out of her. Because frankly, I was expecting worse. I thought she wouldn't even look my way. Is it wrong to feel good about that?
My biggest, most huge mistake of all time, though? Leaving her in the first place.
I didn't have much of a choice back then, but now I can think of a million different ways I could've dealt with my complicated situation that forced me miles away from her.
One thing I know is that we're back to square one. She hates me and she probably definitely wants me six feet under the ground. I don't blame her. I was too impulsive and irrational and enrolled in the same college she studies at, just to be closer to her. In some part of my brain, I think things can be made right. That's the delusional part, though.
In reality, nothing can solve this. I lost my chance. My mind too, at that, but that's not relevant. I can't fix jackshit with her. I wish everything was just a tad bit easier. Maybe she could've still be an option for me that way. All I've done is made her life hell, or even worse. The way she looked at me, like she really wanted me to not exist made me sick. Makes me sick just thinking about it again.
I can't get her face out of my mind. Her tired eyes haunt me. I wish I could just undo the past three years and spend the rest of my life with her and just her, without a worry in the world.
How the hell am I supposed to get shut-eye knowing she's probably in the worst mental state?
I sit up straight. Distraction. That's what I need.
Removing my blanket from my lower body and getting up from my bed, I begin rummaging through the contents of my nightstand drawer. Useless papers are scattered everywhere. I push around a few items before my eyes finally land on it.
A keyring. With a nickel plated bullet attached to it.
The extremely familiar shiny piece of metal rolls smoothly around my fingers when I turn it. The letter A is engraved on to it.
Just like it's engraved on to my soul.
I slump back down on the bed before closing the drawer not regarding the mess inside it. I play with the keychain in between my fingers, scrutinizing it just like I have done a thousand times before.
The memory plays in my mind as vividly as a movie on a 8k tv screen. I shut my eyes, try to relish in the feeling because I know this is the only way I'll be able to be close to the only person that matters.
The woman I love hates me. And I don't know what to do about it or how to fix it.
A sigh escapes my mouth. My mind's in great disarray.
I'm such a fool, trying to distract myself from thoughts of her by thinking of her.
I stand up, shove the cold bullet back to where I pulled it out from, vowing to never take it out again. My hand closes around the door handle, yanking at it. Walking to the kitchen and not bothering to switch on any lights, I pour myself a glass of water and gulp it down in a matter of seconds.
“You still up?”
I immediately jump at the sound of a voice from behind me, my arms going up reflexively. Surprisingly but thankfully I don't let out a girlish scream I'd be haunted by for all my life.
“Shit, dude. Didn't mean to spook you out.” Bryce pats my shoulder.
“For god's sake, Bryce.” I breathe out shakily. “What hell are you doing up?”
“I could ask you the same.” He raises an eyebrow and I roll my eyes.
His own narrow into thin slits and an accusatory look coats his face.
“This is about that girl, isn't it?” He points a finger at me. “Nope. Don't even try to deny it. It's clear as day.”
I groan and fall face first on to the couch. Bryce follows me and makes himself comfortable on a seat across from me.
“Bro, you totally crushed the chick. I can't believe you'd think it would be that easy.”
“Shut up, Bryce.” My voice is muffled because of the way my cheek presses into the plush material of the couch.
“What I don't understand is how you acted so irrationally—”
A frustrated grunt rolls off my lips, “That's because it's Aubrey, Bryce. When she's around, that's what I always end up doing. I can barely think straight, hell, I can't even function.”
Bryce whistles so loudly it makes my ears bleed. I toss a cushion in his direction, and because of my precision, hits him exactly on the head. He begins laughing and the sound is even worse. A few more pillows are aimed at him with the intent to kill.
Bryce is probably the only person I've got around in my life who's actually willing to stick around. He's my only support system, currently. I met him when I was on the hunt for a place to live for myself. He was supposed to be the roommate I wasn't planning on talking to. I guess things never really go the way we plan them to.
So we very quickly became good friends and he knows about every time I effed up with Aubrey.
Well, she never gave me the chance to mess things up more than once. Not that I think that it's her fault though, not a single bit. She's right about everything that she's doing. I'm just too selfish whenever she's involved. It's starting to become a problem now.
When I begin to think of the pain I have caused her, it gets too hard to breathe. My guilt suffocates the shit out of me. And though I want to change it—god knows I want to change it—there's nothing that I can do.
Her unsubtle, stubborn and direct nature is the reason I fell for her. It's also the reason I know she won't give me a second try.
She's all I've ever had. To be aware I'm losing—have lost—a bond so special just like that, because of my foolishness causes a boulder to take rest on my shoulders. I'm still in denial. I don't want this to be happening, I absolutely can't render that it really is happening.
“Hey, also, I forgot to tell you earlier but Sam's coming over tomorrow for dinner,” Bryce speaks up, and my train of thoughts crashes to a halt.
“Sam? Like Samantha Sam? Your girlf—?”
“Yes, Luca, Samantha Sam. And she's not my girlfriend.” He sighs but then adds, “Yet.”
It's my turn to do the whistling. He smirks proudly and shrugs. Lucky bastard.
God. I can't just let go of Aubrey so easily. She's the only reason I moved back. She sure as hell doesn't want me around, but.. maybe, just maybe, I can make this work?
“Hey, yo, no. I can literally see the gears in your head shifting. Just no.” Bryce says, looking straight at me.
I'm a deer caught in headlights. “No, I'm not thinking what you think I'm thinking.”
He raises an eyebrow challengingly. “Really.”
“Damn it, fine. So what if I'm thinking about begging her on my knees to take me back?”
“Jesus, you are so gone, man.”
“What are you, a mind reader of something?” I huff.
Maybe I'm under a false notion that she's going to forgive me for being the biggest asshole, but that notion is what keeps me from going completely and utterly insane.
It goes without saying that I am absolutely nothing without her. And no matter how many times I repeat it, it'll always remain the same.
She hates me, but for just how long?
***
We had three classes together. More than two hours spent in the same room, and she didn't look at me once.
Not. Even. Once.
Oh, what the hell.
A single drop of water falls on my nose, making me immediately whip my head up to the sky. Ominous grey clouds dominate the barely visible blue sky, the wind cool. Another drop lands on the ground, making one turn to two. More droplets, and then a sudden heavy shower ensues. The sound of pitter patter and petrichor combine to hit me with a feeling of overwhelming nostalgia.
Rain. It's been so long since I witnessed it. Stood under it. Let it soak me to the full.
I release a breath. Even standing outside the college building with numerous people clamoring to get shelter, I feel more at ease than I've been in the past few weeks.
Umbrellas make an appearance. Different colours, different types, all meant for the same thing. I think it's the same with us humans. We have different colours, different features, we have so much that distinguishes us from each other, yet there's one thing uniting us, despite all our variances.
Love. Affection. Feeling.
It's all common ground when love makes an entrance in the game. Some win, others lose. That's just the way it is.
A Bob Marley quote pops into my head in an instant.
‘You say you love rain, but you use an umbrella to walk under it. You say you love sun, but you seek shelter when it is shining. You say you love wind, but when it comes you close your windows. So that's why I'm scared when you say you love me.’
I agree with Bob. Bob's smart. If me and Aubrey were cool, I'd tell her this quote right now and she'd agree with it too, with no hesitation. She'd maybe even snatch an umbrella or two from people to make them appreciate the blessing rain is.
It takes me a second to get out of my head and realize almost everyone else except for me is under some sort of shelter, hiding away from it.
Almost.
Across from me I recognize Aubrey by her clothes and brown hair of her's that I love. With her back to me, she walks casually to her car without anything to cover her as if it wasn't pouring down on us.
Here's my chance.
To do what, exactly? I don't know, but if she'll utter even a single syllable directed to me with little to no hatred in her voice, I'm going to count it as a sweet victory.
I begin jogging towards her and feel my now wet clothing clinging to my skin. She climbs behind the wheel and throws her bag in the passenger. I bend a little to be eye level with her and bring my hand up and knock on the window overlooking the drivers seat to get her attention.
There's only two ways this could go.
Anticipation runs through me as I watch her turn her head around to look out the window. Directly at me. Taking me in, she immediately clenches her jaw and faces forward. Her eyelids screw tightly and she inhales deeply before opening her eyes and glaring at me with intensity capable of breaking the glass separating us.
I wait for her to roll down her window, but instead I hear her engine roar to life. The next thing I know, she's stepping on the gas and her car jerks forward which makes me jump backwards.
This woman is relentless. But so am I.
I run after the car, banging on the window, unyielding. I'm gonna talk to her right now, one way or another.
The vehicle jolts to a sudden halt. With the way the window comes rolling down, I can bet she's pressing the button with a deadly amount of strength. I'm surprised it didn't break or stop working already.
I clear my throat to kill the silence that invades us now that the glass in between is gone.
“Uh, you mind.. Do you mind driving me back to my place? It's just around—” Before I've even completed my request, she's rolling the window back up.
“Hey, hey, Aubrey, please? I really don't have a ride right now, and I won't be able to catch one in this weather either,” I plead.
It's successful, I think, because the stops pulling up the glass barrier midway.
“Please.” I emphasize.
She says nothing. Just stares ahead. Then I hear the click of the doors unlocking. She turns to me, and the depth of her eyes has my breath hitching in my throat. Her glare is still there, but I swear I see something in her eyes shift.
I blink twice, then force myself to stop staring at her eyes and make my way around the car to sit next to her. I open the door and—
“No fucking way you're riding shotgun. You're gonna ruin my seat.”
She makes swears sound like words of endearment. Her voice is so melodious. I miss it so goddamn much.
“Easy on the cursing there, and it's literally just water.” I ignore what she said and slip in beside her.
Her hand on the wheel curls into a fist out of obvious anger. Her molars are still smashed against one another. I'm definitely signing myself up to death by spewing shit out my mouth. She's going to throw me out of the car if I speak another word of nonsense, I remind myself.
Aubrey guns the gas pedal, scaring the shit out of me.
I tell her the directions to the building I live in all the while watching her with intent eyes as she keeps her focus fixed on the road ahead.
I'd never imagined she'd look this hot behind the wheel. I mentally slap myself. This is not what I'm supposed to be thinking.
The quietness in this car is killing me, I need to do something, anything. You know what? If I'm so gone already, I might as well ask her a question that's been driving me insane.
“Is there, uhm, anyone,” I put my life on the line, “that you're maybe with?”
It doesn't take her more than two seconds to understand where I'm going with this.
An incredulous look takes over her features as she looks at me, “You cannot be serious with this shit.”
Without giving it much though, I press, “Do you?”
“If you don't wish to walk from here, I suggest you keep your mouth shut.” Her knuckles turn white around the steering, her delivery sharp and stinging.
Shit. Okay. Wrong move. Definitely too soon for that question. She really is aware of the upper hand she has in this situation. Not for long, though. Because I was up all night wondering, pondering, just thinking. Now, I don't care about what's going to come between us, or already is. I'm going to tear down every obstruction to smithereens. And I don't care how long it'll take me to either.
The conclusion I have come to is very simple. It's also only six words long.
I'm gonna make her mine again.