Chapter 30
Lucy cleans up the scrapes on my knee. My eyes are puffy and everything feels heavy, my head, my eyelids droop. I can't stop sniffling, and tears keep filling my eyes, like a never ending rain storm.
Chris won't stop hovering around us both. "It's okay, honey. Go watch TV." He listens to me, putting his hand on my head, once.
Lucy stares at me, and I know she won't force anything on me, won't ask what's wrong. It comes out anyway.
"We broke up. Or something." I put my face in my hands. "I love him. I love him." I start crying again, and everything hurts the way it did when you're a child and you don't get what you want - and it feels like why can't I have this? What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this?
"I know," she says and smoothes down my hair, and rubs my back, knowing just what will comfort me.
But I can't stop shaking.
I left him. I love him. He is my first.
* * *
"Chris, eat."
"Where's Nash? Is that what you were crying about, before?" Chris asked from his place at the table. His curls were completely out of control as of late, spilling right into his eyes and making him look like a sheepdog.
I didn't deem him an answer, which of course frustrated him even more. He'd been bugging me about Nash's whereabouts for the past week, and why I was so upset, and I didn't have the heart to yell at him to stop asking because Nash - because Nash wasn't coming back.
"Where is Nash?" he asked, and his voice was taking on a whining tone that grated at my nerves.
"Stop," I snapped before I screamed he's gone he's gone he's not coming back. We're done, okay? We're done! Lucy met my eyes from across the table, warm and sympathizing. "I need - I need to -" I got up. Lucy smiled in that way of hers. The one that said: I understand.
I forced myself to walk up the steps before I cried. I clutched at my chest. Breathed in once, gasping, let it out. I didn't know when it would stop hurting. When I would stop wanting to hear from him. Wanting to never hear from him. Wondering why he hadn't tried to contact me. Wondering if he was okay. If he was hurting, like I was. If, if, if.
I can't stop picturing his eyes, his face - his beautiful, unreal face.
But he needs to heal before anything can happen between us. Because anything that happened now would be poisonous and hurtful, and I was beginning to realize something.
I deserved more.
And so did he.
* * *
Nash
"Hey, Tommy."
I scuffed my shoe on the grass, staring down at his grave.
THOMAS REYNOLDS, FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS.
"God," I said, rubbing a hand over my face. I sat down, and put my head in my hands, pulling my fingers through my hair.
"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," my voice cracked. "I miss you." I scrubbed at my eyes, willing the stinging sensation to go away.
I stayed until the cemetery closed. I kept my head down, stuffed my hands in my pocket. Felt like someone was sitting on my chest the whole way home.
* * * *
Aria
It had been weeks since...
Since.
4 weeks and four days. Not that I was counting. (I was counting. I was counting and crying every night and feeling like an idiot for crying.) I was working, my boss was being a hardass, and I forgot a hair elastic so my hair was out of control, curly and wild. I kept tucking it behind my ears, but it was pointless.
"So what did you decide on?" I said to a child, staring at his menu. He blushed, and turned to his mother, muttering something under his breath. She smiled politely.
"Chicken nuggets and french fries. No, Kenny. No soda. Okay? Sorry, he'll have milk."
"Sure," I say, and smile, writing down the order.
And then I see him. And my vision tunnels. What's he doing here? Oh my god. Oh my god. I start breathing sort of heavy, and hold onto a nearby booth, realize a family is sitting there staring at me, and I start walking towards the back.
I hear him. His voice. "Hi, is Aria working, do you know? She is? Could you...could I speak to her?'
I'm rushing towards the kitchen now. I burst through, hands on my knees. I feel dizzy and my heart is pounding too fast. What is he doing here? Why now? God damnit, why now?
Seconds later, the hostess Michelle says to me, hand on my shoulder, "There's a guy here for you... Nash? Really good looking," she says, and blushes. Tucks her hair behind her ear. I can tell she's wondering if he thought she was pretty. I feel jealous for a second before I realize he's not mine anymore. Was he ever mine, really?
"Thanks, Michelle. Where is he?"
"Out front. He's sitting in the waiting area."
"Okay," I say.
Walking. I see him. He's hunched over, sort of defeated looking. There's color in his cheeks, and his hair is out of control. He's wearing a blue long sleeve henley, that I know will bring out the color in his eyes. My heart feels like it's going to explode.
He sees me.
I was right. His eyes are brighter blue than ever. It makes my chest hurt.
"Aria," he breathes and stands up. "I-" he seems lost for words. He just keeps staring at me, looking down at his feet, staring at me again. I say nothing. His face sort of pales, like he's slowly realizing this isn't going to be a happy scene.
"Okay," he says, and exhales loudly. He looks towards the door, like he's ready to bolt. I'm ashamed at how ready I am to beg him to stay.
"Hear me out. Please."
I just stare at him, hate myself for wanting to hold him to me, keep wanting it anyway.
"I don't need you to live. Like. I don't need you, to keep on going, and stuff. I could move on, and maybe be happy. Or something." His eyes are so blue, I can't look away. "But I want you. I want you so bad. I want you, and I love you, and I can say that now, because I practiced it in the mirror like a hundred times. Except now that I'm looking at you, and I'm seeing you here-like this, it's easy. Because when I look at you, I know. So. That's what I needed to say to you. For so long, it's been this huge fear to tell you, because loving someone-God, I've never said this outloud-"
"Nash," I say, my voice cracks. I want to say, stop, but I also want to say, never stop saying what you're saying.
"No, let me finish. Because loving someone, I used to think that meant losing them. And I couldn't bear it. I could not fucking do that again. Lose someone I loved. And I lost you, before I even got to have you, because I was so afraid. And I'm done with that. I love you." He exhales. "I need you to tell me if there's a chance for us. Please. I can't go on like this, not knowing. If you say that this can't happen, I'll leave you alone." His face sort of crumples up at that, but he makes himself expressionless - though is eyes are blazing with emotion.
So blue, and so fucking beautiful.
Then I say something. I can't stand myself. I hate myself for this moment. I hate myself -
"I can't. We can't."
I feel like it's an out of body experience, sort of like I'm watching it happen, like I'm someone else.
I see myself swallow.
Nash is trying to hide his face, by turning away a little.
"Okay," he says and he coughs to hide the way his voice cracked.
"You're right," he says. His jaw tightens, and I can see the muscle there. "This wouldn't have worked anyways." I can see he's trying to walk out of here with some pride, so I just nod even though it hurts to do so.
He walks away and I can't watch it. I can't bare it - I turn away.
Why did I do that?
Because you know you won't work out, not right now.
"Okay, no. Aria, what the fuck?"
Nash. I keep my back to him, closing my eyes.
He turns me around to face him, hands tight on my upper arms. His face is furious, his eyes are on fire.
"You don't get to do this, okay? I said that I'm in love with you. We were together a month ago and now, somehow, you don't want to be with me anymore," he says. His chest is heaving up and down.
"I just don't think it's a good idea," I say quietly.
"To hell with that!" he yells. "We're dysfunctional, I get it. I'm a fucking asshole. I get mad way too easily. I want to work on that. With you. I wanna be with you. I wanna get into fights with you but then realize I can't possibly ever lose you and be okay with that, and I want to fix it immediately. You get me?"
"Nash," I say, because I don't know what else to say.
"No," he says. "You said you loved me. Did you mean it?"
It seems like all the games, the back and forth, the fighting, the late nights, the drinking, everything - had led up to this moment. To this boy, panting and staring at me like I'm the one thing he wants to have, always. Asking me if I love him, as if I couldn't, as if I never have -
Did I mean it?
How could I not?
"Yes," I say and then he is kissing me and it's like the gaping hole inside of my chest has suddenly closed, leaving me so goddamned whole.
There are so many things gone unsolved, unanswered, but it's undeniable that here, right now,
I am whole.