Of course I didn't answer Quincey's text. It was a conversation that was never meant to happen to begin with.
I set out to look for Tiffany as I presumed they had finished eating. I found her talking to Quincey outside of the canteen, in the area people usually gather for snacks or coffee.
"It's not like that with Shannon," is what I heard Quincey say, just as I was about to approach them.
They were sitting face to face, he was leaning towards her with his elbows on the table as she had her arms crossed. Immediately I heard my name, I hid behind the vending machine.
"Really?" Tiffany retorted.
"Yeah," he answered with a comforting voice. "I assure you, I don't see Shannon that way."
I stood there unable to move.
"Are you just saying that because you know that's what I want to hear?"
"No," Quincey quickly replied. "I'm saying it because it's the truth. I mean... sometimes I may have...," he trailed off then sighed.
"You may have what?"
"No, actually... To be honest, I've never felt that way about her."
I bit my lower lip, trying to ignore the sting in my heart. His suave low voice whispered in my ear again: "It's different when it's you Shannon." I was still unable to understand his words, what he meant by it, why he said it. Maybe it meant nothing, but still those words weighed on me. I couldn't get them out of my mind.
Stop, I shook my head. What are you thinking? Erase. Erase. Erase.
"I see," I heard Tiffany say. "So how do you feel about her then?" She pushed for more.
Quincey didn't answer. I rested my back on the machine, as I felt very uneasy.
"You barely ate earlier," Tiffany pressed on, "and I saw you glancing at the door every five seconds, waiting for her to walk in."
"Me?"
"Yes."
"Hardly."
"You were waiting for her."
"I wasn't."
"You were gloomy because she wasn't next to you."
"That's not true!"
"I saw the look in your eyes Quince."
"What look?!"
What look? I repeated the question to myself.
"Quince."
I heard the noise of a chair indicating someone standing up briskly. I put my bet on Quincey.
"Tiff, that's enough."
"Nuh-uh," she didn't listen, holding her ground against Quincey, which was not in her habit.
"Don't go there," he urged her.
"I will," I heard the sound of another chair being slowly pulled back, Tiffany had gotten up as well.
"Let's not do this," Quincey suggested.
"Why?"
"I don't want to have this conversation."
"I'm just going to say it."
"Tiffany."
"You like Shannon."
I gasped, placing my two hands on my mouth. I felt my heart drop as if I was falling from a skyscraper.
"You like her," Tiffany insisted, "don't you?"
No no no! My whole being rejected her claim. He doesn't! He's all yours Titi. Everyone knows that. You're the only one in his heart, that's how it's always been... That's how it will always be.
Quincey didn't say anything. I wondered what was going on. The answer was so obvious. I didn't get why they were having that kind of conversation to begin with. How did they even get to talk about something so ludicrous? Did Mandy say something again? There's nothing between Quincey and me. It had been a little weird the past couple of days, but that's it.
Say something! I mentally yelled at Quincey.
"Hmm?" Tiffany uttered, impatiently waiting for him to reply.
Still nothing.
"Ah." She paused for a bit. "Well, newsflash... Shannon doesn't like you. But you already know that right? Just the other day, she was telling me how much she. Hates. You."
That's when I walked away, I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't hear what Quincey had to say. I didn't know if he answered, if he added that he hated me too. But, what Tiffany said wasn't true. It made me uncomfortable to hear her spout that kind of lie.
I have never once used the word hate concerning Quincey. Though it is the impression that I had given through out the years. Everybody believes Quincey is my number one enemy, which he is. But I don't hate him... It's complicated.
Is he really going to believe I hate him? I wondered. Maybe it's for the best. I shouldn't be anywhere near him again. I don't like the feeling I've been getting from him lately.
I sat on the first step of the stairs that led up to the class rooms, and as I watched other students, pass by, I reminisced. Looking back, it was clear that Quincey's attitude had changed after summer holidays. It's not that he constantly threw jabs at me. From time to time, there were episodes were things were calm between us, but that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
However, at that moment I felt that it wasn't just calm between us, it's like something in Quincey had awakened. I saw it in the way he looked at me. Starting from that moment with the dandelion petal in Miss Jenkins' classroom. No, it was even before that, when we saw each other for the first time after summer. I remember him just looking at me without saying a word. It wasn't my imagination. Something had definitely changed.
"Shasha?" I heard Tiffany's voice call me. I looked up to see her smiling to me. "What are you doing here? Are you OK?"
"Ah, I'm fine, and you?"
She picked up my bag from beside me, and sat next to me, as she set it on her lap.
"What are you thinking about?" She asked. "Are you worried things won't go well when you confess?"
"Huh? No, not at all."
"Oh, so you're confident huh?" She nudged me.
"I wasn't thinking about that."
Just as she was about to reply my bag vibrated. But I didn't budge.
"Aren't you going to see who it is?" Tiffany asked.
"No need," I answered. "It's probably nothing."
"Let me see," she rustled through my bag.
"Why?"
"I want to see who it is," she took out my phone, and glanced at it. "Tsk," she hissed, "and he said he's not a texter."
I felt my heartbeat quicken as I guessed who had just sent me a text. Tiffany put the phone back in my bag, and turned to me with a smile on her face. She gave me my bag, then pulled me in for a hug, and I hugged her back. After a little moment, she pulled away then looked into my eyes.
"I'm so glad you finally found someone you really like," she lightly pinched my cheek. "More importantly, I'm really very thankful you told me about it."
"Um... No problem."
"It's your turn now," she mumbled.
"Huh?"
"Oh nothing," she chortled as she stood up. "I have someone I need to meet up with" she said with a glint in her eyes. "I'll see you later."
Tiffany didn't wait for me to answer. She just waved, and I watched her climb up the stairs as she brought out her phone to call someone. She had hardly left, that I was already rustling through my bag to check my phone. Quincey had sent me a text:
"Did you eat today?"
That's the message Tiffany saw. I let out a sigh of relief. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I don't know what I was expecting, actually at that moment I was very confused. Still assimilating what I had heard, what it meant. It just didn't make any sense to me.
"It's none of your business," I replied as I stood up.
"What would you like to eat?" Quincey persisted ignoring the tone of my previous text."I'll bring it to you."
"I don't want anything from you! Leave me alone!"
I put my phone off refusing to give him time to reply my text, and shoved it inside my bag frustrated and overwhelmed, as I walked towards the exit. At that point I had set aside the possibility of his attitude being just a joke, or something irrelevant I shouldn't pay attention to. My mind was foggy, still trying to make sense of whatever it was that was going on.
"Shannon," I heard Quincey call me but acted like I didn't, ignoring the feeling of his voice pulling me to him like a magnet.
I had made a decision, a radical one. By all means, Quincey had to be cut out of my life for good. I briskly walked forward singing loudly in my mind the chorus to Alesha Dixon's song: "Breathe slow".
I heard Quincey call me again as I increased my pace, but I didn't turn back. I began to run, and I knew he was running after me, but I needed to stall, to give myself a little time to be mentally prepared. I was so angry at him for making me feel the way I did. So angry at him for running after me and mostly, for calling my name the way he did.
I ran to the exit of the building, and just as I stepped out the door, I missed a step and tripped on the ground, injuring my knee, as I was wearing my navy blue pleated skirt.
"Shannon!" I heard Quincey's worried voice call out as soon as I landed on the floor.
I winced but I didn't make any noise, still concentrated on the song that was shaping my state of mind.
He hurried to me, falling on his knees by my side, asking if I was OK, if I could stand. I didn't answer. He looked at my knee and grimaced, apparently it wasn't pretty. He took my hands, then carefully dusted off the gravels from them. I watched as he blew on each palm gently to relieve the pain. Every refreshing breath I felt on my palms made my pulse race faster. Once he was done treating my hands, he placed them on his shoulders, then holding me by the waist he helped me up.
I remember how comfortable I felt having him hold me as I stood. That feeling of security, knowing I had a zero percent chance of falling. His hands stayed on my waist, and mine on his shoulders. We remained that way for a few moments, looking at each other like we were the only ones in the world. He dived into my eyes, and I dived into his. I didn't feel any pain from my wound, so I stood on my two feet. Then his hands moved away from my waist, and I felt his fingers lightly brush my wrists. I gasped, suddenly realizing I was still holding on to him, and immediately let go of his shoulders.
His gaze pulled away from mine as he crouched in front of me to examine the wound on my knee. That's when I felt the pain, and the breeze didn't make anything better. It was like little needles kept pricking my knee all at the same time. I felt it sting, the pain wasn't anything I couldn't bare, but it still hurt. I leaned on my left leg, so I was barely touching the ground with my right foot. Quincey reached out to hold the back of my injured knee.
"Does it hurt?" He looked up at me.
"A little," I muttered.
"You'll be fine," he smiled to me, then proceeded to dust off the dirt on my skirt.
I took in a deep breath, replaying Alesha Dixon's chorus in my mind one last time to give me strength for what I was about to do: "Can't forget to breathe slow, count from one to ten with my eyes closed. 'Cos ladies take it in and get composure. Ladies never lose composure."
Keep your cool, I psyched myself. Don't let it show. Don't let him know.
"Quincey...," I murmured.
"Hmm?"
All his attention was on me, he waited for what I was going to say. His expression was soft. I won't lie, he looked very, very charming at that moment.
"Stand up," my voice was not as firm as I wanted it to be.
He furrowed his brows, not expecting to hear me say that.
This is it, I told myself. You can do it.
"Is there something wrong?" He inquired as he stood.
"I don't want to see you again," I dropped the bomb.
He frowned as if I spoke a language he couldn't understand.
"What are you saying?" He asked.
I didn't respond, doing my best to keep a solemn expression on my face. He let out a little laugh, as if what I said was ridiculous.
"You can't mean that," he shook his head a bit.
I looked down, my hair covered my eyes. I was afraid that his piercing gaze would see through me.
"Let me see your face," he leaned forward.
"No."
"Look at me."
"I don't want to."
"Shannon."
"No."
"Let me-"
"Stop it," I said looking up at him, then I averted my eyes, unable to hold his gaze.
"Stop what?"
"This. The whole nice guy thing. Asking if I'm OK, if I ate, if I need anything," my voice was a little shaky, so I cleared my throat before I continued. "Asking where I am, waiting for me. I don't know what's gotten into you the last few days, actually even after summer holidays. But whatever it is, just stop."
"Shannon-"
"No," he tried to take my hand, but I moved away just in time. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. I'm going to walk away from you now. Don't come after me, I'm serious. I don't want to talk to you again."
"Wait, what?" he pulled me back as I started to walk away. "What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I said Quincey," I raised my voice wriggling my arm out of his hand. "You annoy me, I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore. So don't talk to me again."
He didn't allow me to take a couple of steps before calling me back, but I didn't answer.
"Wait," he came to stand in front of me.
I tried walking past him again, but he held my arms pushing me back.
"No," I wrestled, "let me go!"
"Shannon, please-" he was having a hard time trying to hold me back without hurting me. "Why are you angry with me?" I didn't listen, and kept struggling, not making things easy for him.
"Move!" I hit his chest, and he held my arms trying to handle my fake fit of anger.
"Wh-whatever I did I'm sorry."
"Let me pass!" I struggled to free myself again but he didn't let go.
"I'm sorry Shannon."
"Get away!"
"Please ju- Can't you-" he turned me around with another one of his swift movements, then wrapped his arms around me to hold me still. "Please, don't do this to me."
I fell off.Technically, I know my feet were still on the ground. But strangely, I wasn't feeling the ground beneath me. I was no longer within the realm of reality. It felt like all my surroundings had evaporated in an instant. I was carried away into his realm. I was in a place I didn't want to come out of.
So this is how it feels? Quincey's hug. This is how it feels to be in his arms.
I had seen him give so many to Tiffany through out the years, though never like that. His breath tickled my ear as his arms around me tightened. My back was glued to his chest, so I could feel his heart race. It was beating so fast, like he had ran a marathon. It was the exact same rhythm as mine.
"Stop..." I sagged in his arms.
"Why?"
The back of my head laid on his chest. I wanted to give in, even though I knew I never would.
"Quincey, please stop...," I begged him. "Please... Let me go."
"I can't," he whispered.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked as I tried to recover my willpower.
"I..."
"What do you want?"
He didn't answer. He just tightened his arms around me even more.
"Quincey sto-"
"Don't run away from me," he pleaded.
"Let me go," I mumbled.
"I don't want to."
"Stop," I groaned.
"Just stay still."
"No!" I started wrestling again, I forced myself to come out of the web he was wrapping me in. "Leave me alone!"
"Shannon please...," he tried to hold me still.
"No! I can't stand you!" I yelled. "I hate everything about you! Everything you do irks me! Why don't you get it you idiot?!"
My heart was pounding against my chest. I prayed that what I said would be enough, because I didn't have the will to raise my voice against him again. Fortunately, it worked. His arms around me loosened, even though he still didn't let me go. I immediately freed myself from him before he realized he had loosened his hold, then I took a couple of steps forward. Even though I wasn't seeing his face, I knew I had given him some damaging hits. But he was still there, still hanging on by a thread.
"Get lost," I had to knock him out.
I could see his shadow on the ground in front of me. I stared at it, imagining him in front of me, tall, strong... reassuring. Tears blurred my vision.
"Alright," he muttered.
"Go away," I said squeezing my skirt, forcing myself not to look back at him.
"OK."
"I don't want to see your face anymore," I felt a warm tear roll down my cheek.
"Fine," his voice was almost inaudible.
I knew that was it. The knock out.
I closed my eyes, as my whole being was crying out for him to stay. I didn't want to see his figure go away, turning away from me. I only opened my eyes once I was sure he was gone. I turned back and sure enough there was no one. It was like he was never there to begin with, like it was all a dream, nothing more than a dream.
Finally, I let out a sigh, that's done with. Good. You did well.
I walked dragging my right foot because I felt an excruciating pain in my knee. I wondered if it was normal for the wound to be so painful.
"Titi?" I peeked into an empty class room, I had come back into the building to look for her. "Where did she go?" I mumbled to myself.
As I walked dragging my foot, I came across some guys and girls that stared at my wound, probably wondering what I was doing going around like that. Shannon Dugray had never been seen at school in that kind of condition. I'm always at my best. But at that moment, finding Tiffany was my top priority, nothing else mattered.
Where could she be? I wondered. Who was she planning to meet?
I had been looking for her for a while, and it was almost time to resume class. All I wanted was to see her face, to assure myself that she was fine. I remembered that after lunch she had french class, so I supposed she may have gone there ahead of time. I was right, that's were she was. I found her near the class room, leaning her back on the wall as she talked to someone who was in front of her.
It's an image I would like to erase from my memory, it's just too painful. I don't think I can bare to keep having it flash through my mind. I can never ever forget. I saw them. Tiffany and Orson.
He was leaning his back on the wall opposite her, he had his arms crossed. She was smiling to him, and he seemed confused. She said something then stood straight, and walked up to him. Unfolding his arms, she wrapped them around her waist, and intertwined her fingers around his neck before laying a kiss on his lips, as he looked at her stunned.
I turned away. I couldn't look.
"I'm so glad you finally found someone you really like," what she said a few moments ago echoed in my head."More importantly, I'm really very thankful you told me about it... I have someone I need to meet up with."
That's not her. It can't be. Not Titi. Anybody else, in this world, but not her. Anyone else...
I heard her giggle. It was her.
It's incredible how you can build a relationship with someone for so long, and in an instant it all ends. In the twinkle of an eye, a long-term relationship ceases. It's funny how sometimes you think you know someone, then realize you have no clue as to who they are because they had been wearing a mask all along, even though you had given your all from day one.
Tiffany, you of all people... How could you do this to me?
My knee ached so much, it was like I had been shot. I wanted to cry, but the pain was too much. I couldn't breathe, and I felt dizzy. I placed my hand on the wall to support myself, so I wouldn't fall. I had looked for her everywhere, going around helter-skelter just to find her. Desperately wanting to hug her again. To tell her she was all I needed.
"Shasha?" I felt her hand on my arm as she turned me to her. "It is you," she smiled. "When did you get here?"
She looked so ugly. She looked disgusting. I felt my stomach turn as I looked at that ignoble smile on her face.
"What is it?" She asked.
I raised my hand to slap her, and she flinched. I stopped mid-way. I couldn't do it. My hand was shaky. I clenched it into a fist before slowly letting it down.
"Shasha..."
"Shut up," I felt like hitting her head against the wall. "How could you? I told you I liked Orson, and then you- how could you?!"
"Oh...," she looked perplexed. "You saw?"
"Tiffany," I looked into her eyes and enunciated every word, "you disgust me."
It was the first time I had called her 'Tiffany' since we were five. We had given each other nicknames a few months after meeting. The five year old me had called her Titi, and she called me Shasha. Some people made fun of the fact that we still used those nicknames, but we didn't care.
Titi was not the person standing in front of me at that moment, because she would never have done anything to hurt me. Titi is the best person in the world, my everything.
I wanted to say more things to Tiffany, but I realized no words would be able to express what I felt. I turned my back to her and walked away.
Loving someone is like giving them a gun, or any kind of weapon. You lay the weapon in front of that person, and you leave your heart open, unguarded. The weapon depends on the amount of love you have for that person. A little love equals something like a needle, which will cause only a sting in your heart if they betray you.
Loving someone is giving the person the power to hurt you, but you trust that he or she never would. Yet sometimes, they do. That's why it's easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. You don't give the weapon to your enemy because you don't love him or her. So someone you don't care for can never hurt you as much as someone you love.
Tiffany's weapon was not a little needle, but a gun.
I loved her so much, too much. But she pulled out the gun, aimed at my heart, and pulled the trigger.
All the years... No, all my life spent with Tiffany doesn't make sense anymore. My memories with her came flashing, but none of them had a meaning to me. All I feel towards her as of right now, is anger, resentment, and most of all, hate. I should have known better.
I don't even like Orson. I never did. Quincey has always been the only one.
Yeah... I can admit it now.
I missed him so much during summer holidays, I could hardly eat. For six long years, I suffered everyday to hide all my feelings for Quincey. To hide the fact that everything he does makes me want to smile. To hide the fact that every time he ruffles my hair, my heart beats out of my chest. Being in his arms for that little moment, felt so unreal, too good to be true. But I pushed him away.
Because all I ever wanted, all that ever mattered, above anything else was Titi. I considered her happiness much more important than mine. Because we never let anyone, or anything come between us.
But I was wrong. I gave her too much of my heart, and she decided to trample all over it. She set out to intentionally hurt me.
Now, here I am in my room, not even able to remember how I managed to come back home, lying on my bed like my soul has been taken out of me. My knee is aching so much, my breath is shaky, but I've not yet shed a tear, because it hurts too much. I feel the painful lump in my throat. I want to be relieved of the pain, but I can't cry, it's way too much. I feel empty.
Tiffany, if you can do this to me, even when you knew that dad and my Uncle had already pushed me to the edge, you knew you were the last person I put all my hope and trust in, then I can't imagine what others will do.
Because of you, I'm terrified. I can't let anyone else in.
I can't cry. If I shed one tear, many others will flow. Then I'll fall into a black hole, and I'll just keep falling, never able to escape because there'll be no one to save me. No one to catch me, no one to hold me, to make me feel safe.
I want to go to a happy place, but I don't have one. The only thing that comes to my mind is the feeling of Quincey's strong steady arms around me, his sweet smile, his deep voice...
But I hurt him. I hurt him, and now, he's gone.