I will not make
The same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery
I will not break
The way you did, you fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far
Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me
Because of you
I am afraid
-
Axel
You cannot hate someone, until you know what it might be like to love them.
All the memories I had of my mother smelled like alcohol- even the good ones, when she was bending down to kiss me goodnight and her breathe was a boozy breeze on my face, or when she was straightening my tie on my first day of school. Her disease was a perfume, one I used to lean into when I was a child and one I itched for when I grew up. If anyone asked me for the five concrete recollections from when I was a kid, chances were that all of them would involve some fiasco based on my mother's drinking: the time when it was her turn to be Den Mother and the Boy Scout arrived to find her completely lit and dancing in her underwear, the track championship she slept through, the sting of her hand on my face when she all she wanted was to punish herself.
Those memories were the pillars I built my life on. But hiding behind them were the other memories, the ones which peeked out only when I let my guard down: that hazy afternoon my mother and I sat down with our heads bent over the sidewalk, watching ants construct a mobile city. Her voice, extremely off-key and incredibly pitchy, singing me awake in the morning. The summer days when she stashed trash bags on the lawn and ran a hose, a makeshift Slip-N-Slide for the two of us. Her inconsistency, in a better light, became spontaneity.
And I hated her, precisely, because I knew what it was like to love her.
I knew what it was like to have her love me.
And I wanted nothing more in the world- not the grades, not the scholarship, not the friends, not anything, nearly as much as I wanted my mother.
But she was the one thing I couldn't get.
She was the one thing that was out of my reach. She was the one thing that no matter how hard I worked for, I would never get. She was the one thing that could never love me, even when I loved her.
I thought a lot about her, which was why I always had to keep myself preoccupied. When I was free, dangerous thoughts and past memories tortured me from the inside out, the emptiness threatening to destroy me in the cruelest ways possible.
I wondered if she had dimples, if she could bend her thumbs all the way back, double jointed like Abby and I. I wondered if she gave me my blonde hair or the fear of arachnids was something I adopted from her. I wondered if she remembered me, as much as I remembered her. I wondered if she missed me, as much as I missed her.
And the worst part of it all, the possibly worst part of the worst was the fact that I already knew. I already knew the answer. I had known it the day she had hit me so hard my ears had rung, I had known it from the day she had smashed the bottle of bourbon right above my head, I had known it from the day she had looked at with those cold, cutting green eyes of her and she had given me the most sadistic smile which had told me everything I needed to know, which had made me drop to my knees right in front of her and cry until my screams echoed off the walls. I had known it from the day she had chosen the drink over me, I had known it from the first time she hadn't come to my parents teacher conference when she promised she would, I had known it from the way my father looked at her, because she looked at me exactly the same way.
With hatred, and anger, and regret, and disappointment. With everything she didn't love, with everything she wanted nothing to do with, with everything she couldn't even bear to touch.
I knew it. I knew it all like the back of my hand, like the birthmark behind my ear, like the color of Abby's eyes.
I knew, and I still hoped.
I still hoped she loved me. After everything, after so many years and so many things and so, so much pain, there was still a part of me that clung onto the fact that whatever I had with her once wasn't just an illusion – that my mother truly loved me, that she made a mistake and now she was trying to find me. That one day, I'd open the door and she'd be standing there with her arms wide open and for a moment, I'd become the four year old she used to pull out of the bathtub and I'd forget the smell of alcohol which still lingered on my skin.
But it never happened.
It never happened.
When my mother left, she took a part of me with her. I didn't know which part it was, but somewhere deep inside me ached with its absence, the insides of my bones throbbed with the emptiness. She was my flesh and she was my blood and she was the warmth I didn't have at night, and she was the uncooked dinner on the table, and she was the one thing in the world I hated so much, I loved.
And I hated myself for it.
I hated myself for loving a monster, who didn't love me back.
I hated it, because I knew what it was like to love it, and have it love me.
-
I flipped through a book as I leaned against my locker, waiting for Brooke and wondering how Abby looked when she woke up, rosy with sleep.
All I had to do was think about Abby, and suddenly I would be overcome with this urge to freeze certain details about her in amber: her munchkin voice, or her iridescent pink fingernails or the xylophone of her laughter, or the way she smiled into my eyes. Every bit of love I had inside of me- it was all centered towards her. She was my entire universe.
Losing my mother and father had been bearable, only because I had had Abby. Abby had been there through it all, through those nights when I couldn't sleep, through those days when I cried all day in bed. She had been there with me through all of my pain, and despite not being able to understand most of it, she had shared it with me. She had carried my burden. She continued to carry it every day, without question.
And that was why Abby was the one thing I couldn't lose, ever. She was the one person in the entire world I was willing to do anything for, even if it meant that I had to sacrifice everything I had left.
Commotion coming from the other side of the hallway interrupted my thoughts, my eyes flitting over to see how people had shrunk into their little groups, whispering. I felt a queasy, crummy feeling collect in my stomach as I looked at the people, words filling the air with murmurs and secrets. It was almost as if a storm was about to come, and I had a feeling I knew its name.
Right on cue.
Xavier Alexander walked in through the doors, his head hung lower than usual, his stance lacking the confidence and sophistication he usually carried with him. He wore a long, brown coat which managed to cover a bit of his violently bruised knuckles and his hair stuck out everywhere, completely disheveled and uncombed.
Everyone fell completely silent as he went over to his locker and opened it, the air tense and heavy with questions and accusations. I found myself holding my own breath as the scene played out in front of me, almost like it had come out of a cliché high school movie.
Suddenly, he turned around. I almost heard someone gasp, and I held back a chuckle at people's astonished expressions.
And then he arched an eyebrow in the most elegant, majestic, pointed way I'd ever seen and said, "Well? Stared long enough? Yesterday wasn't good enough for you?"
He folded his hands on his chest and leaned against his locker, the sharp, red marks on his hands peering out from beneath the material of his coat.
Everyone continued to openly gawk at him as he took his books out the locker and headed towards class.
It looked as if as I was surrounded by bananas who had just had somebody peel them.
I bit my lip as I tried to control my giggle, looking at the people's faces as they stared at him. As he walked towards the class, his eyes connected with mine and he seemed to smile for a second, before he remembered himself and went in.
And as the hallway erupted with whispers and snickers and all kinds of remarks I didn't bother to hear, I found myself smiling back in the slightest.
-
He wasn't wearing any cologne today. He just smelled like oak and grass and firewood and lazy Sunday mornings and Rose Maries. He smelled like a rainforest. He smelled like memories.
Xavier Alexander had chosen a seat right next to me, but had surprisingly not said anything and had been focusing on his notes with utmost devotion and concentration. It was almost amusing to see how he worked, how his eyebrows knitted together when he didn't understand something or how his hand moved slowly and neatly against the paper.
I didn't try to say anything either. I didn't have anything to say, and otherwise, I was sure after yesterday's spectacle, he wouldn't really want to talk to anyone.
Nevertheless, I felt a little peculiar as he continued to write down his notes, completely oblivious to the presence of other people around him. My heart beat unusually fast beneath my ribs, a thump I tried to swallow constantly.
"So," He finally said, after a few seconds, and I regretted staring at him, "You won't ask me about yesterday? Or comment?"
"It's none of my business." I could feel him looking at me, and for the first time, I looked back.
Something flashed in his eyes before he turned away hastily, focusing on the board.
"But you are judging me, aren't you? You're probably thinking-"
The words came out of my mouth like water from a broken dam, "I'm not thinking anything. Stop being so presumptuous. I have many other things to think about than other than you and your performances."
I bit my tongue instantly as I realized what I had said. Something dropped in my stomach, guilt settling in my chest. He was already vulnerable; I wasn't exactly helping by adding fuel to the fire.
But it wasn't my job to help. My job was to make sure he knew where he stood with me, and I decided that the only where to do that was to be the one who drew the line.
To my surprise, the corners of his mouth turned up, "I'm glad to hear that."
He paused for a second, and then continued, his voice smaller than before, "Can I ask you something though?"
"No,"
"What did they say after I left?"
I raised an eyebrow at him, "I didn't listen."
He looked at me incredulously, disbelief in his eyes. I rolled my eyes and continued to half heartedly listen to whatever Mr. Malcolm was saying.
"But-"
"I didn't hear what they said," I said sincerely, and the look on his face forced me to continue, "Look, people say shit all the time and if I start listening to all the shit they say, then I'll be as crazy as a shithouse rat."
He looked at me for a second, eyebrow raised, eyes glazed. Then he burst out laughing.
And he had a nice laugh. It came from the bottom of his belly, it rang throughout the classroom, and the snorts that came out of his nose complimented the tune.
And it was contagious. God, it was contagious.
Wrinkles appeared on the sides of his eyes and his nose began twitching and his eyes gleamed with something I had never seen before and I really tried my best not to laugh, but I couldn't control the noises which made their way out of me.
"Excuse me," Mr. Malcolm said, bringing up an elegant finger to adjust his glasses as he stared at us, "Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class?"
We both simultaneously cleared our throats, Xavier still slightly giggling as he brought a hand up to his face to disguise the laugh as a cough. Mr. Malcolm frowned and leaned against the board as I sheepishly shook my head, my face burning.
I could feel people staring at us and murmurs seemed to fill the classroom once again, as the teacher scowled and turned away. And just as Mr. Malcolm turned around, Xavier looked at me and giggled, and I gave him the smallest possible smile in return, as if saying:
You idiot.
-
My phone rang as I rushed down the street, my feet sliding against the slippery pavement. In an attempt to get it out, I lost my balance and awkwardly, half fell on the cold ground, the edge of my coat completely soaking in the water.
Fucking hell.
I felt panic flow through my veins, adrenaline rushing inside of me as cold fury settled over my skin. Blood roared in my head, and my heart battered at my ribs as I got up again and began running.
Abby had a class presentation, and I couldn't afford to be absent. I refused to be absent. Abby had spent two entire weeks talking to me about it, how Miss Emily had shown them how to paint and each kid had been given five papers and how the paintings were going to be displayed and the parents were going to asked to come and how she had she had helped this girl Michaela paint and god dammit, if I missed it, I would never forgive myself.
I checked my phone again and shouted every single profanity I had in my head as I willed my feet to go faster, only to fall to the ground once more. The rain fell heavily, the thick droplets prickling my skin as I cursed again and got on my feet, something cold and heavy setting in the bottom of my lungs, making me want to stay put and run as fast as humanly possible at the same time. I worriedly looked around for a taxi, but all I could see were stranger cars passing by in the partially isolated street.
There was a constant voice ringing in my ears, an unrecognizable, cunning, torturous whisper: "You're no different from them. You'll disappoint her. You'll disappoint her. You'll always disappoint her. Just like they did."
And a part of me, the smallest, tiniest part of my heart seemed to whisper back, agonized: "I know. I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
My entire childhood, my parents had skipped every single one of the events that were important to me – the parent teacher conferences, the swimming matches, the spelling bees, the science projects. A part of hadn't wanted to see them there, always afraid that they'd do something and humiliate me, but a part of had always wanted them to be just like the other parents: waving to their kids while sitting in the crowd, giving their kids bone crushing hugs after a game, even if they'd lost, gifting their kids warm smiles and kind words, cheering for their kids embarrassingly in the stands- the amount of envy inside of had even disgusted me at that age. All I had ever done was stare at the door, bite my lip, and just pray to any god that was up there, "Please show up. Please show up. Please show up."
They never did.
Not once had either of them shown up. And not once, not once had they remembered. And not once, had either of them ever apologized.
Not even once.
And the fact that I was essentially doing the same thing to Abigail, that I giving her the same life that I had had; I couldn't even bear to acknowledge it. I couldn't even bear to think of it because when I did the pain hit me like a bullet in the back and it bled out drop by drop until I was left completely empty.
I checked the time again and my knees felt week as the memories flashed in front of my glazed eyes like wicked fireworks. All I wanted to do was to drop to the cold ground and cry, and make everything like it was supposed to be. Turn everything wrong with my life around until I was left with a clean slate, until I could look into the mirror and actually like the person looking back at me.
All I wanted to do was cry until I made a home out of my tears, until I turned everything into what it should've been, not what it was.
I drove on with weak determination as the seconds ticked by and my throat began to close up like a fist that was about to punch me in the gut with horrid reality.
"Clark?" His sound was barely audible over the rain, "What the actual hell are you doing out here in the rain? You're soaking wet!"
I turned around slowly, my eyes closed, my fingers twitching with the need to smash his face against a wall. Everything inside of slowly bled, the pain blurring somewhere in the background as the rain fell against the earth.
But then I opened my eyes.
"You have a car," I stated dumbly, "You have a car."
"I don't think it's very unusual for people to have them nowadays," He almost sounded offended as he shouted from the window, "It is the 21st century, you know?"
"You have a car," I said slowly, again, staring at his Audi, "You are driving a car."
"Did you hit your head? Are you in your senses? Do you need to-"
"Xavier fucking Alexander, you have a car!" Relief flooded through me so violently, I felt my knees buckle. I had to hold myself up to make sure I didn't fall down, "You have a car!"
"Axel Clark, are you sure you're not in need of any medical assistance?
I ran over to him, chugging the phone back in my pocket. I felt light headed and wrong footed as I clumsily put both elbows on the window, Xavier jerking back at my sudden intrusion. Another car honked from behind, but I was too preoccupied to bother.
"Xavier," I breathed, my eyes pleading, my heart heavy, "I am desperately, desperately in need of a ride." The car honked again, "I have to be somewhere really, really soon and if I don't get there on time, let's just say that I'm going to be in big trouble," Another honk, "Could you please, please give me a ride?" Another honk, "I've tried to find a taxi but I can't find any and I swear I will owe you for the rest of my life if-"
"Will you just fucking get in the car before that bastard behind us decides to," Honk, "crash his car into mine and possibly run you over?"
The relief flooding through me was almost nauseating.
I was going to make it. I was going to be there when Abby presented her paintings and she wasn't going to have to look at the door and pray like I did my entire life, because I was going to be there and I wasn't going to be like them.
I wasn't going to be like them. I wasn't going to disappoint her, like they'd disappointed me my entire life.
A painful snap behind my ear alerted me, and I scowled as I looked at Xavier, snuggling adjusted in the car seat.
"Where do you have to go, your majesty?" He sounded annoyed, but his eyes held a wildness that contradicted his words.
"Um," Reality seemed to dawn over me, making me realize the extreme absurdity of the situation I happened to be in, "Do you know.... Where... um... SunflowerElementaryschoolis?"
"Axel Clark, English please?"
"Sunflower Elementary School," I looked away, trying to hide the red that was making its way onto my cheeks, "Do you know where it is?"
"Yeah. I've seen it." I could sense the smirk in his words. Bastard.
He started the car and turned down the radio, the air tense and heavy around us. I felt oddly shy in his presence, painfully awkward as I looked around and prayed that I would make it in time.
"Why," He began saying, and then paused. Clearing his throat, he hesitantly began again, "Why do you need to be there in such a hurry?"
"That's none of your concern."
"I swear I will owe you for the rest of your life," He mimicked, a smile tearing across his face, "I think I heard you say that."
"That was just.... Impulse," I sighed and cursed again, my insides tightening, "My sister has a presentation I need to attend."
"Oh," He sounded surprised, "That's....nice."
"Yeah,"
A few minutes of awkward silence passed and Xavier fidgeted in his seat for the tenth time, looking at me and then turning away.
"What's your favorite color?"
"Can we not even try with the small talk?'
"This is kinda awkward."
"It's blue. There, not so awkward anymore, right? Now shut up."
"Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why is it blue?"
He looked at me, his gaze strong and warm and deep. I shuddered, and looked away, the buildings passing by in a blur.
Because it's the color of Abby's eyes.
"No reason."
"Mine is black."
"Right,"
There was silence again.
"Favorite flower?"
"Are we playing twenty questions or something?"
He began to mimic me again, and I rolled my eyes.
"Rose."
"Mine are the flowers of saguaro."
"That's ..... unusual."
"It takes fifty years for a saguaro to sprout a single arm." Xavier said, thoughtfully, looking out the window. As he spoke, I felt something in the atmosphere physically change, something I couldn't pin point, "Their flowers are so bright and beautiful, they've been known to make sparrows weep."
"Woah," I commented, never having imagined Xavier Alexander to be the kind of person who thought with such depth, "That's pretty cool."
"Yeah,"
I checked the time. We were nearing the school, but the presentation had started ten minutes prior. I had an urge to ask Xavier to shut up and drive faster, but I had a feeling I already knew the kind of response I'd receive.
"Favorite food?"
"Chinese," I replied distractedly, "Yours?"
He seemed pleasantly surprised that I had bothered to ask him. He looked at me and smiled.
"Pizza,"
Something warm blossomed in my chest. I did my best to ignore it.
"Favorite season?"
"Autumn, and please drive faster."
"Autumn? Isn't that a bit .... Depressing?"
"No," I fiddled with the straps of my bag pack, feeling oddly vulnerable over a stupid question, "It's.... really pretty."
He giggled. I fought an urge to smile.
"I like winter."
I figured only a couple of more minutes of driving were left. I recognized the street.
"Favorite sport?"
"Swimming,"
"Football,"
I huffed, "Figures,"
4 minutes left.
"Favorite subject?"
"Chemistry,"
He grimaced, "Ew. I will honestly never understand covalent bonds as long as I live. History all the way."
3 minutes. I shuffled in my seat.
"Favorite ...." He paused, seemingly out of questions.
"Favorite ice cream?" I offered, my cheeks heating up.
He laughed again. It really was a nice sound, "Chocolate,"
"Strawberry,"
2 minutes left. I swallowed.
"Birthday?" He looked panicked.
"None of your-"He shot me a glare, pointing to my seat, reminding me of whose car I was sitting in, "2nd October,"
"4th February,"
The air between us shifted again. I spoke before I had a chance to think.
"Blood type?"
Another smile made its way onto his face, "B positive. Yours?"
I gave him a lopsided smile, "B negative,"
He returned it, "Right,"
We were there. I looked at the yellowish-peach buildings, my heart thundering inside my chest painfully. I sucked in a deep breath, murmured some words of motivation under my breath, and opened the car door.
"Er.... Thanks for today." I swallowed down my pride, "Honestly, I'll be sure to return the fa-"
"You don't owe me anything," He looked at me, and I noticed the mussed elegance of his hair, the cut of his jaw, "We're not friends. Remember?"
"Yeah," My voice sounded tight.
I gave him a half hearted smile and got out of the door, shutting it quietly behind me.
I rushed towards the entrance, my hands shaking. I didn't look back.
"Hey, Clark!"
I stopped in my tracks, quickly turning around. My eyes found his, and I held his gaze.
"Good luck,"
I smiled at him, and nodded back.
"Thanks, Alexander,"
And then I went in, feeling just a little bit braver.
-
Hi guys! How're you? I hope you're all doing well! * huggles tightly *
SKJNJDNJEKFEWBFWKJFRJKEF RF OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BREATHE I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH MY HEART IS BEATING REALLY, REALLY FAST RIGHT NOW AND I CAN'T STOP SMILING AND REUIFBURIEJBFERHBREHBREBR OH LORD WHAT WILL I DO WHEN THEY KISS I CAN'T
*takes deep breath*
Honestly, I am so, so sorry for not updating earlier. I missed writing a lot * wipes tears * but life really did not co operate, so I had no choice but to postpone the update. Every time I sat down to write, something came up and it annoyed the living hell out of me. I feel so good writing this, I'm close to tears. Goodness, I love you guys so much, and I love writing this so much, I have no idea how I'm ever gonna live without it.
THOUGH HONESTLY THESE TWO ARE SO ADORKABLE WHY AM I EVEN SHIPPING THEM THIS HARD OH MY LORD
I don't know why, but I absolutely love this chapter. I know, I know, but the beginning had to be the way it is because I really wanted to create this contrast between this and the previous chapter that is Xavier and Axel's family. I know this chapter is really mushy, and I really, really hope I'm not rushing anything but to be honest, I couldn't come up with anything better(Writer's Block is horrible). I really, really hope you enjoy this chapter and I'm once again, so sorry for the late update.
In other news, that day my teacher began talking about the Mariana's Trench in class and I had a fit. Yeah.
And we had an English report to write, and I wrote the officers names as Xavier Alexander and Axel Clark. And then I started imagining them in uniforms and foreplay and I couldn't breathe. Yeah.
This is dedicated to the wonderful Olivia_15x BECAUSE I ALWAYS UPDATE LATE AND I AM SO SORRY THANK YOU SO MUCH YOUR COMMENTS GIVE ME LIFE I LOVE YOU * huggles and throws confetti *
BUT ANYWAYS, ENOUGH OF ME, 74K? 7 4 K ? AND 116 IN ROMANCE?
SOMEONE PLEASE BASH THAT INTO MY HEAD BECAUSE I QUITE LITERALLY, CANNOT BELIEVE IT.
This story, it means a lot to me. It really does. I feel a special connection with these characters and their pasts and their emotions and with all of you. When I see that people are reading this, people are commenting with this – god, I can't even begin to describe what I feel. I feel like this story and each and every one of you guys have become a family to me, and no words in the entire English or Urdu(my mother tongue) can describe how much this means to me, and how much love it gives me. It gives me love and it makes me believe in love, and I cannot thank you enough for that.
Thank you is all I can muster. I'm extremely emotional * wipes tears * AND I FUCKING LOVE ALL OF YOU COME HERE * feeds you pizza and huggles *
I love you. I hope you're all having an amazing day or night or evening, and if you're not, I hope you that it's okay.
You're allowed to feel what you feel. Stop being so hard on yourself.
Breathe.
Small steps.
You don't have to come up to anyone's expectations.
Breathe.
I love you.
You are important and you are worth it and you are beautiful.
Breathe.
Thank you, beautiful people.
~ Fuzz