Twenty-five Home
"Wait for me to come home" –Ed Sheeran, Photograph.
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I heard someone once say the only thing that remains the same is change itself. That phrase has stayed with me ever since, always lingering behind my hazy thoughts. It's true, isn't it? Everything changes, even love does. A passionate young love gives way for affection when youth withers away.
Change is what I was feeling right now. As the weekend passed, I spent my time in the guest room, studying-my eyes fixed upon the blinding white pages of the book, a part of my heart was slowly becoming a stone. Yes, that's the aftereffect of rejection. Once, a long time ago, I often wondered what made people to become so distant, cold, and cruel. It was my young self who was wondering about the stone heartedness of adults. Why are adults cruel? Why do they place worldly goods above friendship and love?
I found my answer. When a wave of hardship collided fiercely against me, I began losing wisps of my identity; I began losing kindness, sympathy towards the problem of others. I'm not the only one. Hardship and struggle does that to people. I vowed that I would resist these changing tides with all I had; I won't let the hardships of life kill my soul.
I lost that war.
And yet again, I was facing the same yet different tides of change. I wouldn't let them change me this time though. If there is one thing I had learned during the short time I stayed with Devlin is to never let life pull you down no matter what. His kindness and goodwill gave me hope. It made me hopeful that even in the war against reality, one can always fight the war together; you don't have to be alone in this war. Join other people; be kind, this isn't a race. This is Life. And Life was never a competition.
"Alice," Oliver's hand found my back, he steered me towards the lunch table at the end of the hall. His friends from the swim team were gathered around the table, few of the lower class girls were also sitting at the table, and I recognized some of the faces from middle school.
"Where are you talking me? I'm not sitting with your group,"
"Oh yes, you are," A pair of stormy eyes held mine. Small, red spots were peppered across Oliver's forehead. There was a small teasing smile on his lips; his eyes were almost challenging me to contradict him.
"I'll beat the shit out of you if you force me into sitting with them,"
For a moment, he seemed scared. I could see his mind going back to the time when we used to ride the same bus in middle school. Every time we would into a fight, which incidentally happened a-lot, I used hit Oliver so hard that there were purple bruises on his shoulders the following day.
Then Oliver smirked, his pale lips curled into a victorious smile, he straightened his back, his full height came into my view. I didn't miss the way he tighten his arms to reveal the muscles draping around its length. "I'd like to see you try,"
I curled a strand of hair around my finger. "You wouldn't hit a girl,"
"You're the only exception," He finished with grin that reminded me of Lord Voldemort.
"What about Sandy?"
"She has her minute math competition today,"
"Right," I sighed as we began nearing towards the table. My old friends came into view, Zack, the boy with an electric smile and a personality to charm, Tanya, a girl who always puts up her brave front even when circumstances are opposing, Solida, who had a brain of a genius but a heart of an musician, Trever, a guy who is always willing to fight for his friends but didn't fight for me.
"Oliver, I don't want to talk to them,"
"You have to. Forgive them and move on. I'm not telling you to befriend them again. Just let go of the grudges,"
I didn't argue any further. Oliver was right in a way but I also could tell he was trying to redeem himself for all he had done.
The minute I placed my bag on the table, all eyes shifted towards me. Tanya and Solida readjusted their surprised expressions into kind smiles.
"Hey guys," Oliver spoke, taking a seat next to me, away from his friends. He rested his elbows on the table.
"Alice, isn't it?" The lean guy with a nose resembling the witch of the west, asked me. He spoke in a slight French accent.
I nodded my head, wondering how he knew my name.
He grinned at me. "My uncle is a big fan of yours. You met him at the exhibition, Remember?"
My mind went back to the man in gym clothes and his brother with a strong French accent. "Abelard?"
"Yah, that's him. He said he never met a girl with such an imaginative mind." I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Suddenly, warmth and fuzzy sensations encased my toes and cold fingers.
"Well," Oliver beamed at him, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me towards him. I inhaled the strong smell of chlorine. "She's the most artistic person I know. No-one can beat her when it comes to colors," The sides of our heads were pressed against the other. I didn't mind though.
Tanya gave me a sideways hug; it was somewhat awkward with Oliver still holding my shoulder. "It's great to have you back," She whispered. There wasn't the slightest trace of malice in her voice.
"You just stopped hanging out with us," Solida spoke up, who sat on the opposite side. She reached over the table, held my hand in her small one. "We really missed you,"
Trever was now standing behind me, ruffled my hair. "Garfield is back, guys," I laughed at his old nickname. What surprised me the most was that he still remembered it.
I turned my head to stare at him. He was smiling at me. Suddenly, I remembered what I used to call him whenever he smiled. "I see your smile still looks like the Grinch,"
On usual occasions, he would have gotten annoyed but this wasn't an ordinary occasion. He began laughing.
Zack with his short frame jumped to his feet and came rushing to my side. "You know what this calls for!" He announced with his hands hidden behind his back. "A Group hug!"
All six of us got to our feet and huddled around Zack, just like the golden days. My shoulders were lighter than before. The world was suddenly not weighing me down.
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Having friends is the most blissful feeling in the world. If only I had gotten to them earlier, none of this would have happened. Sometimes you have to be the first one to take a step forward. I'm glad Oliver had given me the push to move on. I would have lived the rest of my life with stupid grudges.
After lunch, Oliver and I were walking through the crowded halls, heading towards our art class. Few teachers strode past us, some gave Oliver affectionate smiles. The school swim team had recently won the state level swim competition. It was natural for them to be the favorites for some time.
He held my arm, as if I were planning to ditch him and run in the other direction. I didn't have the heart to tell him to let go, looking at the merry grin on his face.
"We should hang out sometime. Guess what?" Oliver started out.
"What?" I tried sounding enthusiastic but I couldn't keep the tired tone out of my voice. Maybe I shouldn't have spent the night thinking about Devlin. Can you ever feel nostalgic because of a certain person? I don't think I will ever find home again without him around. He was my home, my solace, my safe haven.
And in that moment, as if answering my unheard prayer, Devlin was leaning against the pale cream wall beside the nurse's office with Mrs. Sandalwal looking up at him.
We were approaching them. I wasn't even listening to what Oliver was saying. My minded seemed to have gone blank, the swirling stars, galaxies, the sound of our laughter, the nights we spent together talking aimlessly were now crowding it.
For a the shortest second, his eyes glazed over mine and being the emotional being I am, I couldn't help but feel my heart give out a painful squeeze. His eyes held no interest, no emotion, briefly they flickered to Oliver's hand wrapped around my arm. I was glad Oliver's arm was there for I was no condition to move forward in that point. He smiled, how dare he, here I was on the verge of tears, there he was, his lips curving ever so slightly, humored by some wicked inside joke.
I caught words of Mrs. Sandalwal and Devlin's conversation as we passed.
"So soon, dear, it's only been two lessons and you're leaving,"
Devlin replied in a polite, sincere tone. "I would love to carry on but my current conditions don't allow such luxuries.
"Oh my, is your schedule really that full?"
"I'm afraid to say that it is,"
Oliver drew my attention back towards him by muttering a bunch of curses under his breath. When he caught me staring, he flushed into the darkest shade of red.
"You have a mouth of a sailor," I commented, my eyes drawn together. "Seriously, Oliver."
"I just hate that guy,"
"Well, you shouldn't" I freed my arm from him. "He doesn't deserve it,"
"Of-course you'll say that. You're staying at his freaking house,"
"No, I'm not," I whispered, my shoes looked more interesting than they ever had. "Not anymore,"
There was clear relief scribbled on his face. "Thank God,"
"You should talk to your sister before you go blaming someone else's mistakes on him,"
I should have been more careful. I had just found my friend and I was already beginning to lay out the trap to lose him again.
His mouth was pulled together in a scowl. "That's not even the reason why I hate him,"
I didn't even bother asking what was the other reason was. My gut told me that it wouldn't be a good idea to ask.
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My legs were sore from sitting for long. I was sulking through the Pavilion corridors when a strange sight greeted me. A group of boys, seemed to be freshmen judging by the way they were giggling and bursting into fits, were ogling and snickering at some girl. This wasn't some girl. It was Beatrice, the girl who had been bullying me for the past year. Her dirty blonde hair were let loose in waves and cascaded down her hourglass like back. This is when noticed the entire back side of her jeans was stained red.
I glared at the boys, giving them my most menacing stare. They didn't even notice me. "Assholes," I half-ran, half jogged towards Beatrice.
She was staring at her phone, the light reflected off her sharp features.
"Beatrice," I tried calling for her attention. Her eyes snapped towards me, she readjusted the neutral expression into one of disgust.
"What is it?" She barked. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Alice, stay calm. No girl deserves this kind of humiliation, not even Beatrice.
"There's blood on your pants,"
She watched me for a second; the words hadn't yet registered in her mind.
"No, are you kidding?" Her hands went to her back. She gaped horrified at her red stained hands. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so embarrassed. There were tears glistening in her eyes.
I quickly shrugged off my green hoodie. It was my favorite one but this was more important. "Here," I held it out for her to take. "Tie it around your waist then let's head to the nurse's office,"
She did exactly as I said to do, her hands visibly shaking.
The group of boys was about to move past us. "Have some decency from the next time. If she was your sister or if this was your mother, you wouldn't be laughing at them like that,"
They didn't have the guts to reply. I pushed past them and a numb Beatrice followed after.
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The nurse took Beatrice in for a change. Before I left Beatrice, she gave me the weakest of smiles. The smile was just beginning to form on her lips like that of a bird who was about to take flight for the first time. I just nodded my head and left.
One question was echoing inside my mind. Why can't all guys be like Devlin?
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Note: I can't wait to share the next chapter. It will have another small revelation (nothing too big) but it's a really adorable one. (well at least according to me :P)
Today, I just rekindled my friendship with my old friends from high-school. It is literally the most liberating feeling in the world.
The Beatrice incident is indeed real. It happened with one of my not so much of a friend back when I was in middle school. I remember how it bad it was on her.
Please do comment, because literally they are my pieces of inspiration. I swear to you, Devlin and Alice feel every bit of love you send to them.