DECLAN was not Van Gogh, but he came close. He had painted a piece messing with the motif of clocks, about love being a product of circumstance. "Love happens in these moments," he explained to our art class during our presentation. "It is not constant. It changes. It is fluid. But commitment—" He took a deep breath. "—frankly, it's one of the bravest thing in the word. It means you're taking a risk with this person who may very much chance, but relying that their love for you will not anyway."
I glanced at him in awe. As did Mr. Camia. Then when it was my turn to speak, I talked about how much I had grown in this art project. "I thought about doing it on how love makes us irrational and wrongly exuberant. Then things happened. Then more things." I resisted a smile, stealing a coy glance at Declan. "And now I believe that it is something worth experiencing and preserving."
Mr. Camia smiled proudly at us. "Amazing job, guys. Truly two stellar and completing pieces. They are clearly so different and yet can come together in so many ways. What a great way to end the unit and start winter break, Avery and Declan."
I nodded in acknowledgement and felt my heart gathering warmth. We did a question and answer session and the class applauded to signal the end of our presentation. Once in the back of the room, Declan chuckled airily, his lips stealing a touch at the nape of my neck.
I disintegrated all at once.
*
I loaded my suitcase on the trunk of Mark's car. For once in her life, Mom had remained true to her words. She had arrived to take me away for Christmas. A grand escape, she promised, but I was devastated to be away from Declan.
"So, Avery, how is school coming along?" Mark questioned—small-talk, I supposed.
"It's fine," I responded curtly.
"Sounds good—oh," Mark exclaimed, motioning behind me. "You have some visitors."
I turned around to see Declan and Joey coming in this direction. I closed the hood and gave them a little wave. "Hey guys," I said once they were close enough.
"You hoe," Joey chastised. "Why didn't I knew you were leaving until this boy—" She motioned dramatically toward Declan. "—told me?"
I laughed and pulled her into an embrace. "I'll miss you, love," she said as we pulled away. She then took out a starling box from her pocket and handed it over. "Merry Christmas."
I reached into my pocket for a box of my own. "Merry Christmas, my love," I told her.
"Okay then, I'll leave you two to it," she said, referring to Declan and I. "Bye Avery!"
As Joey left, Declan enclosed the proximity between us. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I wish I would spend the holidays with you," he said dejectedly.
"I wish it too," I murmured longingly. "But we'll see each other in—two weeks?"
"I want to kiss you right now," he admitted, scratching the back of his ear. "Can I?"
"Do you have to ask?" I chastised, rolling my eyes.
He inched closer to me, his lips grazing mine.
"Avery!" a familiar feminine voice piped in: Mom. "I have all your paperwork. It's time to go."
I closed my eyes, pressing my lips into Declan's. "You take care of yourself, loser," I told him. "Fuck," I cursed then. "I already miss you, you idiot."
He placed his forehead on mine, gazing in a downward motion at me. "I'll miss you more."
"Avery! It's time to go. Get in the car," Mom shouted.
I wanted to yell at her to just shut the fuck up. Instead, I kissed Declan again. And again. And again. "Bye Declan," I told him with a tone of finality.
He provided a weak smile. With a final kiss, I left him. In the car, Mom had the aura of a newspaper reporter, her eyes attentive. "Avery, was that your boyfriend?" she asked interrogatively.
I absentmindedly nodded my head. "I know, mom," I muttered tentatively. "I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend. But he's—"
"He's decent," she finished. "You're young. In love. I get it."
Mark began to drive. We engaged in meaningless chatter until we managed to make it to the highway. The sunset grazed the distant horizon, a myriad of reds and pinks and blues glittering the late spring skies. With my eyes surrounded by beauty and by heart beating for a certain boy that embodied it, I fell into a long, placid sleep.
*
"Avery? Wake up."
I groaned, pushing my hands into my earlobes.
"Avery, we're home. Wake up"
My eyelids slowly fluttered open. I yawned drowsily and rubbed my eyes. The first thing I saw was Mom. Not the best image to be woken up by. "Home?" I questioned. I had thought her arrival at my school and my departure from Declan was a nightmare. Instead, I had woken into a nightmare.
"Yeah, come on, get up and I'll take you to your room," she said.
"Okay," I mumbled, getting out of the car.
The crickets chirped as I entered Mom's two-story house. A crepuscule was in full motion. The color of her glorious above was white—a peaceful choice—with beige-colored steel roofs. She helped me dispatch my luggage and led me to my room, leaving me there for the night.
After adjusting myself, I decided to call Declan to let him know that I had arrived at home. After seven rings—yes I counted—someone picked up at last. "Hello?"
"Declan!" I beamed. "I'm home"
"This isn't—Declan," the voice said dejectedly.
My eyes widened. "Liam?"
"No," the person responded. "This is Declan's father. Can I please know who this is?"
"This is Avery," I replied politely. "I'm a good friend of Declan's. Can you please give him the phone?"
There was a pause in the other end.
"Declan is in the hospital," his father started. "Him and Liam got in a car accident earlier today. Both of them are severely injured and under ICU care."
A startled gasp escaped my lips. "Is this a joke?" I asked, disappointingly unamused. "Declan, tell me it's you. Tell me you're only joking with me.
"This isn't a joke," the receiver answered. "Can I please know where this call is from?"
I dropped my phone on the bed and broke into sobs. No...it couldn't be.