James
Dial. Call. Wait. No answer. Fifth time, all straight to Justin's voicemail.
I'm not stupid, I know Justin left with that journal just as he stormed out of my house. But what I am, is pissed. I get that he's a grown man, just as I am, but he should know better than to act the way he's been lately. You see, that isn't how our whole "arrangement" works.
I remember when he was scared out of wits to speak to me, let alone talk back. But then again, I was five times his size, my body and voice multiplying. And my actions. And he found out about that when I came across his mom a while back —oh, maybe fifteen, twenty years ago. It was pretty traumatizing for the kid, really. I can still see the entire episode replaying over and over in his eyes every time I try to bring her up. It's quite funny, actually, seeing him get all fired up over something that he'll never be able to forget or change.
Thinking of the journal no longer being in my grasp, that reminds me — I have a little "meeting" with dearest Scarlett this afternoon. And what she doesn't know is that she won't be trading in those worthless papers for her journal, or for anything at all.
I don't give a flying shit about those entries she's trying to make an exchange with, and I don't care about her journal either, believe it or not. My plan is this: I'll find a journal look-alike, meet her at the community park with it. God knows if I arrive there without anything, she could get stubborn and make me show her proof, she'll be fed up with the entire thing. Then, once she shows me her entries, of course, we'll trade. But that's what I hope won't happen. It's most probable she isn't going to hand over her precious entries, so she won't even think about bringing her treasures along. She's too smart to do that. But she obviously can't outsmart me. Once we—she—eventually figures out we've both arrived empty-handed, she'll try running off. If she even does so, I can easily grab her, take her with me-business is done. I'll just need to teach her a little lesson as to her sneaking behind my back with Justin.
Scarlett
Four o' clock strikes the time, anxiety and nervousness taking over my system. What am I supposed to do? I have nothing to give James. Nothing I'm no longer afraid of giving away. Either way, he's expecting something.
I'm sat at a nearby coffee shop not too far from the school. I got out at three fifteen, thought I'd spend a few minutes calming myself before I have to face the devil himself. Anyway, it would have been a waste of time if I just went home.
I stand up from my stool with my schoolbag slung on one shoulder, tossing away my green tea before exiting the shop. Here we go.
It's sunny out, the heat only adding to the possibility of freaking and fainting. As I near the park, I'd figure James would want to meet somewhere more private. That scares me, believe me, it scares the crap out of me. But I search for related places anyway. Then I spot him, leaning against a tree across the field in which a few younger boys are kicking a soccer ball around. Okay, this is a bad idea. Turn around, Conscience warns, and I almost listen to her for once. Almost. And I should have.
I suck in a deep breath, one hand gripping the strap of my bag, feeling my palm becoming sweaty. I rub it against my thigh as I fight the courage to walk across the field, my emotions going wild. He spots me as I near, a crude grin forming on his lips. He takes a couple steps toward me as I do the same, and once we are finally a matter of feet away from each other, I stop.
"Nice to see you," he casually says. I nod, being my only reply, because I am not glad to see him one bit.
"My journal?" I squeak. "You brought it, didn't you?" There you go, my conscience encourages. Play it your way. If he finds out you haven't got your papers with you before he hands you the journal, you're screwed.
"I did," he confirms. "But hand over your price first." As if!
"N-no. How do I know if you're lying or not?"
"How do I know if you're lying or not?" he tests. I clench my fists at my sides, them holding anger and fright.
All of a sudden, my phone vibrates in my pocket, the buzzing making me jump. Perfect timing. It is obvious to James as he quirks an eyebrow at me, but I shrug it off. I really want to check whoever texted me. I'll have something to distract me from the current situation.
"Can you at least show me you have it with you?" I ask. Go ahead, keep stalling.
He looks at me for a second as if he couldn't believe me, shaking his head. But then he digs into his back pocket, pulling out the worn-down leather book. It looks a little off, different from the last time I've seen it. Maybe it's just been through so much. I can hear it screaming for mercy, somewhere, but oddly not in front of me. Somewhere further away, and I wonder why, but I sadly have no time to question it at the moment. I'll save you soon, though, little journal. Soon.
I gulp, knowing that he's expecting me to do the same. So I very slowly twist around, my hand sliding into my hind pocket, where my phone is. Ah-ha. Sneaky little girl, you. I quickly check the message, and it's from Justin.
Hey, where are you?
I silently debate whether I should answer him or not. Then I know I shouldn't even have to think about that when my conscience screams at full blast, something far from the contrary of what she's been ordering me lately. TELL HIM! TELL HIM! TELL YOUR PRINCE CHARMING SO HE CAN COME RESCUE YOU! FORGET ABOUT WHAT I'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE! JUST DO IT!
When James clears his throat to get my attention, my body shuffles, my thumb being quick as light, typing in a simple "PARK." Sent.
"Um. It's, uh...one second," I stumble with words. He flashes me a really annoyed smile then lets his eyes wander around the park while I'm acting like I'm trying to find it in my bookbag. Great. Keep procrastinating.
Eventually, James grunts in irritation and I know he's on the edge, which makes me want to stop. Don't want things to get messy. But before I can stop myself, he lunges forward and smacks my bag out of my hands, everything spilling out and onto the juicy grass. Great! I look up at him with my frightened eyes as he stands inches away from my face now, nostrils flared-oddly just like how Justin's would when he's angry-and looking like he could knock someone out any moment now. I can't help but think that someone could be me.
"W-what was that for?" I squeak, backing away from him and crouching down to gather up all the papers and spiral notebooks that have landed on the dew-misted ground.
"I'm not fucking stupid, Scarlett," he loudly exclaims. "If you don't have it, then just spit it out." I flinch away when I see one leg of his launch down to the ground, stomping in anger.
"I-I thought I had it in here..."
"Don't play that game with me, God damnit!" he growls. I crawl away from him a foot or two, dropping everything that was in my grasp to fill my bookbag back up with. I guess none of this stuff matters anyway. I'm graduating tomorrow. Wait. Oh my God! I'm graduating tomorrow! Excitement and anxiety take over my mind for a second, thinking about how I'll be able to live my own life, finally. No! What the heck are you doing!? Snap out of it! I shake my head, seeing James is no longer looking down at me, but rather behind me. Please, please tell me my rescuer has arrived!
My hope rises once I spin my head around, spotting none other than my prince charming whom I was forbidden of perceiving, up until now. Never will I ever listen to James ever again.
From the looks of Justin's face right now and how he's eyeing the situation, which looks like it went way worse than it did —James's large figure overbearing my helpless one sat on the moist ground, scattered belongings all around —I can see him wanting to pound James square in the face, or vise versa. Neither will I tolerate. James gets into a defensive position, his fists in front of his face and mid-section as Justin nears, and I think of something to do, something quick, something that will prevent him from doing anything regretful. He can't do anything that's on his mind at this park, not in front of all these children and parents.
Once Justin has made it to us, I do something bizarre and completely immature, but it is still manageable. I unmindedly grab ahold of Justin's leg as I'm still sat on the ground, wrapping my arms and legs around him like a little kid as he's feet away from James, but unable to hit him. I can't believe this is what came to mind last second. At least he stops, his head hanging down to look at me, his eyes crinkled. Although his eyes hold fire and fear, the way he looks down at me, he can't help the tiniest smirk that he's doing his best to hold back at my silly behavior. Seems like my touch may even soothe him the slightest bit, if not visibly.
"Don't," I peep. The only response I receive is continuous amused glares from him, then finally, a breath of defeat. He quickly turns around to face James, his face flaring again.
"What the fuck is going on?" he grits under his breath.
"Something you aren't a part of," James spits back. I eventually haul myself up from the ground, trying to think of another plan to keep anything else from starting.
"And what exactly is that?" they continue bickering.
"None of your business, Drew," he nudges his finger into my chest. I don't even think when I notice how close they've gotten, immediately jumping in between them, but staying further away from James.
"Stop it, before you start something," I pipe. Now, I turn to Justin so I'm only speaking with him. "Why must you always do this? You never think straight!" As much as I'd like to tell James the same (although he probably does think straighter) I would never grow enough courage for that.
Justin refuses eye contact with me during our mini conversation, eyes glued on James who I've found to be smirking at how I'm treating Justin like a child. Just so Justin isn't any more "humiliated," I stop talking, turning back around to face the both of them. But I can't find any words to say, so I groan and fall back down to the ground to gather up my things, which still haven't been able to be tidied up. The two stand in silence, glaring at eachother like they're children I am babysitting who have just been scolded.
Once everything is stuffed into my bag, I sling it over my arm and rise back up, looking at them in shame.
"I'm leaving," I mutter, unable to bare anything else that may happen. But just as I turn around, someone grabs ahold of my bookbag and pulls me back, yanking me to their side. James.
My eyes go wide in panic, but I manage to stay calm. Don't cause a scene. Don't cause a scene. I look over to Justin who looks just as alarmed, looking as if he were going to thrust forward, but I mentally tell him not to. He stays, but he looks on the edge.
"You still want your journal back, love?" he grimily whispers into my ear, setting Justin's agitation on fire.
"What's the use?" I spit. "I've grown out of that by the amount of time I've spent away from it," I sarcastically throw, causing him to smirk.
"So you wouldn't even take it for free?"
I pause, hopeful at first, but then realize that you can never have hope when it comes to James. He's got to have a catch, and I will not be his bate any more than I already have been.
"No," I lie, and I can see the surprise in Justin's face, too.
"Really?" he taunts, swinging the book back and forth in his lanky fingers like a watch hypnotizing me. I gulp and nod, even though I want it so, so bad. I could snatch it right out of his hands this instant and run away—okay, no I can't. But that's what I feel like.
As he's swinging it more and more in my plain view, inches from my eyes, I try to get a grasp on some of the pages that flap back and forth, just the corner. I catch something odd-well, I actually don't catch anything at all. That's exactly it. Because nothing is in there.
I lose my mind for a second, and I do what I thought I couldn't have done. I pluck it out of his fingertips, the action taking him by surprise and letting me free. I furrow my eyebrows as I take many steps away from him, my only concentration being on the small book. I think Justin held him back just before he could get another grasp at me, but I'm not sure because my eyes are only roaming through every single page of this book. All of them blank. Empty. Nothing was ever written in here.
I've been fooled by James.
I throw the phony book to the ground in anger, landing into a mud puddle nearby, disappointed in still not having found my dearest book. I hear grunts by Justin and James from behind me, but I don't care to look back at them. I'm done with everything right now, and I don't think I've been so eager to leave Canada than I am now, in my life. I'll be able to leave all of this mess behind, including James and Justin—
"Scarlett!" the mess himself speaks, jogging up to me.
"Go away," I mutter in annoyance. "I don't want to see you anymore."
He stops, hurt. But after regathering himself he catches back up to me.
"I just helped you out here! I don't at least get a damn 'thank you' or some shit?"
I cringe, still not and never have been comfortable with his cursing.
"No!" I flip around to face him, but continue walking backwards through the soccer field, manage to peek behind his shoulder. No more James. Must have left. "Especially not when you're cussing your heart out all of the time!" I turn back around, only to have him right beside me now. "And I thought you had everything under control with my journal. You said you would get it back from him. And you lied! All I freaking got from this was a newly damaged and recently store-bought look alike!"
He shakes his head as if he were taking a moment to let all of that sink in. "You don't know a damn— darn thing that's been happening to me lately!" I can't help but mindedly praise him for correcting his use of swears, actually listening to what I had to say. "You don't know what I've had to go through for all this. I-I, you —Stop!" He grunts, grabbing ahold of my shoulders and making me stand in place, facing him. I aggressively shake him off, but stay to hear what he has to say. "I've sacrificed so much for you."
"Oh, is that right? Well, I've sacrificed too much for you, Justin. Far too much." I stomp away, him eventually going back to being on my tail.
"Aren't you happy with at least some of the things you got out of all of this?" Happy? How can a word with so much meaning and emotion be felt through all of this?
"Out of what?" I immediately spit, but refusing to look at him as I'm focused on the trail back home.
"On everything! From where this all started to now! Ever since we met to this very second!"
I whip around, angrily at first only to come into contact with just as furious hard eyes and gritted teeth, but then soften up. Maybe he has thought about that, too, just as I have.
"It isn't going to matter. Not anymore," I mumble, looking at my feet.
"What the fu—heck, are you taking about— "
"What day is it, Justin?" I ask out of the blue to him, but it most definitely has to do with the conversation.
"What? Uh, Thursday."
"And tomorrow will be Friday. Do you know what makes this Friday so special?"
"You'll finally forgive me and I'll have you back just the way it was before? Just how I'd been hoping we'd be able to get through this? It'll all be over?"
It takes me moments to realize what he'd said, my eyes getting lost in his caramel brown ones. I feel pain, for both him and me.
"N-no... No." That word takes like acid on my tongue now. "No. Tomorrow... It's my graduation."
Realization flares in his eyes and he nods his head.
"I'll be leaving exceedingly soon. I'll be going to Harvard, to Cambridge, Massachusetts, leaving all of this behind," I say, motioning my arm in the air around me. And I can see the question in his eyes, although it comes out more as a statement. He says it more so to himself, as quietly as ever.
"And me."
Guilt rushes through me and I struggle with my words. "Y-yeah. And you. Everything." He avoids my gaze now just as I was beforehand. "I should be gone in a matter of days after my graduation. You can stop worrying about me. I'll stop worrying about you. We'll both be perfectly fine, doing our own thing in our own new lives."
"You mean I'll be going back to my old life."
I search his eyes for more answers, knowing that I haven't had much input on how his life was before he met me. "W-what?" I bite my lip, ashamed. "Yeah. I guess so." When he doesn't reply, I feel too horrible to speak of this any longer, so I continue my walk home, leaving him standing alone. That is, until his low voice, now sounding a little scratchy and broken—hopeful?—speaks up.
"I'll come with you," he suggests, but more so implies.
That makes me stop in my place. I clench my eyes shut, refusing to let tears fall. He won't let go, won't he? I turn on my heel to face him, not being a good distance away from him, but still able to hear eachother.
"No. That's not going to work, Justin. You know it." Then he walks up to me.
"No, it will work out perfectly. I won't have to stay here, won't have to keep living the messed up life I've been living before. I'll have a clean slate." He searches my eyes almost promsing, and it breaks my heart to reject it.
"Justin..."
"Please. I need to. I can't stand being here anymore. I can't stand the person I was before, and if you leave, I won't be able to handle living as him again."
I want to help him ever so badly, I'd want to help anyone who sounds this desperate to change, to get that better life. But I just don't know if he deserves it.
"Justin," I breathe out, unsurely. "You can't come with me." He closes his eyes as if he were holding back anything from spilling out, and he tugs at his hair as he rotates his body around, back slowly facing me in frustration. "I don't know if you understand... But Harvard, it's giving me a chance to get away from everything, too. Everything. That won't work if you come along also." Boom. Right in the heart. I wince.
He turns back around to face me, teeth pulling at his bottom lip in dissatisfaction and hopelessness. He pulls me into his chest, taking me by surprise— an embrace I've missed for so long. But I have to fight to hold him back, knowing it will only make things harder for me.
"Please. Please. Please. I need this. I need this just as much as you do," he pleads.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, gently forcing him to let go of me. I stand back, slowly walking backwards. "My graduation is tomorrow. Cambridge, it's in a matter of days. I can't do anything about it." He begs with his sad eyes for me to come back, but I'm already walking away to our departure for who knows how long. This could be the end, unless Justin finds another miracle of his. Predictable.
"I'm sorry," I mouth to him before marching home, without a journal. Without my thoughts. Without Justin.
________________
FIN.
Vote, Enjoy, Comment, Caress.
(P.s. If you comment the words you would say to Justin if you got to meet him face to face, you will 300% be receiving your very own Barbie Let's Play Dollhouse with matching Pink Jeep okay this is not a scam. All you have to do is comment what you would tell Justin if you met him face to face. This is 500% real okay I promise. I guarantee that the Barbie collection will be sent to your house immediately, that's right, immediately. Try it and see for yourself this is not fake.)
-clarissa♡