（james）
HISTORY CLASS CONSISTED OF Livia trying her best not to fall asleep, scratching her nails against the wooden desk. Next to her, Brie was tapping her chin with her pen, a blank look on her face. Lila seemed to have just given up, not even bothering to look like she was paying attention. Livia wished she could do the same.
The McHill twins sat at the other side of the room, Livia casting a surreptitious glance at the two. Somehow, they both had a good enough attention span to still be taking notes and listening, as the rest of the class struggled to stay awake. Sarah was in the first row, her body tense. Livia hadn't bothered asking her if she was alright, or even asking about the mysterious Damini and the questions she persisted.
She studied her filed nails, sharing a look with Brie. Mr Little has a way to make even the most interesting subjects boring. Why did she have to be stuck in his class?
The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, not out of respect for the teacher, but more because the class was on the verge to fall asleep. If Mr Little noticed, he didn't show, or demand they remain awake and listen to his poor lectures.
By the time they were fifteen minutes in, Livia had given up. Taking out her writing notebook from her backpack, Livia began scribbling and writing, not even bothering to pretend that she cared about the lesson. No one did, so why should she? Brie gave her a curious glance, noticing her lack of attention, and Livia replied with a small shrug. Lila was practically snoring at that point. She must have not gotten enough sleep last night.
A smile curled on her face as Livia turned her head back to her notebook, writing down the words spinning in her head. She wasn't going to glare at anyone today. Today, she wants to live a drama-free life, the kind she should be living instead of engaging in petty and pointless wars with old friends who don't understand her anymore. Today, she's looking to her future, not her past.
First, she'll have to turn off her mind and the part that keeps thinking about Melody. Easier said than done. Perhaps Livia really had been thinking too much, because the moment she forced herself to stop, her mind suddenly felt uncomfortably empty.
Placing down her ballpoint pen, Livia rubbed her forehead, sucking in a breath. Gods, headaches. When does class end? A glance at the clock told her she still had half an hour to go. Why? She's half inclined to just storm out of the classroom, though she supposed Mr Little won't exactly be pleased by that, so she stayed put, trying her best not to lose her temper while the teacher went on and on and on.
She glanced down at her notebook. In the pages of tightly-packed words, she had somehow found space to fit in a few doodles and drawings here and there. Some calligraphy, too, though her brush pens had somehow been lost while moving. She'll have to buy some new ones later. She bit her lips, studying the roses and flowers she had drawn. Roses had always been a favourite of hers to do. It never got old.
Art was something Livia never excelled in. Most of the time, her drawings ended up atrocious. She has some things she can draw nicely- flowers, mostly. Anything else looks like it could end up on the meme pages of 4chan or something. Simply horrendous. It was shocking she even managed to pass art class.
Lila glanced over her shoulders, making a 'tut-tut' sound as she clicked her tongue against her teeth, shaking her head. "You really need to start drawing things other than flowers. Don't get me wrong, it's cool, but it's beginning to get really boring."
"Shush," Livia replied, her voice cool, though her amusement was clear. "Not everyone is as talented at drawing as you are, Ms Anderson."
"My art's just mediocre, Wong."
"As if," Livia whispered back, and that was the end of that.
"I'm going shopping later, want to join?" Was what Brie whisper-shouted when the lesson was almost over, not caring about the fact Mr Little was glowering from his spot at the front of the classroom. Not necessarily at them, more at the overwhelmingly large amount of students not listening to his lecture.
Livia shook her head, "I have to study and pick up Pamela later, sorry."
A raised eyebrow. "Still babysitting your sister?"
Livia shrugged hopelessly. "Mom insists."
Brie mumbled something under her breath, poking at her textbook with her pen. "Well, if you somehow get out of that, my offer still stands. Whenever you want to go shopping, just call me. Easy peasy."
Of course, though Livia had almost no intention of dragging Brie along, ever. Not only for the girl's own good in some desperate attempt at curing her shopping addiction, but also because Ben, her older brother, had called her furiously the last time they headed out to the mall, complaining that Brie had showered him with even more useless shoes, ties and jackets he'd never wear. Livia had virtually pinky-promised that she wouldn't do so again. She'd never tell Brie that. Brie would terrorise her brother once she got home. Ben loves his little sister, and Brie too, but their relationship was also more built on friendly rivalries than anything, each trying to outdo each other. Their parents encouraged it, but only to an extent. They knew they shouldn't force it too much, or their kids will genuinely hate each other. Livia liked to think her own parents went a bit too far, to the point that Pamela and Livia had a degree of actual dislike of each other. The two sisters weren't very close, either, unlike Brie and Ben, which might explain it.
But she simply nodded, letting the other girl interpret it as whatever she wanted to. Brie turned back to her notes. Or maybe it's something else. Livia couldn't tell. Brie's handwriting was even more horrible and cramped than hers.
Mr Little had given up at this point, continuing his lecture, completely ignoring the students. Livia couldn't fight the smile creeping on her face at the look of frustration on the man's face. She shared a look at Brie, both girls fighting a huge smile on their faces. Livia shook her head, letting out a soft chuckle. Mr Little was so done with all of them, and it was so damn hilarious. After a moment, Livia lowered her head once again, burying herself in writing.
The lesson will be over soon. She'll just have to stay awake till then.
*
Even as kids, James McHill never quite understood Livia Wong.
They were close. Best friends, basically, though he knew Livia had always put Melody first and James second. He didn't mind. Back then, they sat together in class. James would read over the stories Livia put together in her notebooks as she worked on her next one, and he'd point out mistakes. They worked as a flawless team.
But now, he was on the other side of the classroom, watching Livia giggle over something with Brie, and he couldn't help but feel jealous as he watched the two girls talk. He flexed his jaw, carefully taking a look around to make no sure no one had seen him staring, and turned back to his textbook. Jack was deep in thought, though to anyone else, it would seem as if he was paying the utmost attention to Mr Little's words.
Mr Little's superpower was boring someone to tears, and it was working very well, James noted as he studied the tired and bored bodies of the students around him.
His gaze travelled back to Livia against his will. Livia was too busy talking to Brie to notice him staring, which he was thankful for. If anyone noticed and asked him about it, he'll never be able to live it down.
Her brown hair was shoulder-length, longer than before. When Livia had left, her hair was practically a bob. Her mouth was curled in that smile of hers, a cross between a smirk and a genuine grin, as if she knew a secret no one else did. Her skin seemed to glimmer under the soft sunlight. Livia had always been a pretty girl. Even more so when she smiled.
James tore his gaze away.
She's not the same girl she was at fourteen.
This Livia was much more bitter. Vengeful. Or maybe he just had never been on the wrong end of her wrath until this.
He knew it wasn't his fault Melody died, even if he was there, even if he could have stopped her if he was just a bit faster, a bit smarter, if he had just realised what would have happened, but Livia's insistence made him start to doubt himself. Maybe it is his fault. Not all of it, but part of it.
He was the one to ask Melody to hang out with him in some attempt to discuss her problems and find a suitable solution for it. He was the one who enraged Melody, after all. Even if he didn't mean to.
James forced his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath.
It's not true, James. It's not true. It's not your fault. Don't let her in your head. That's what she wants, for you to blame yourself. She's confused. She doesn't know the full story. Even if she does know, she'll think you're lying. Stop thinking about it.
But Livia isn't a liar. No, Livia has always been brutally honest, even when it would get her into trouble. Livia knew what she was talking about. She knew very well what she was doing.
Jack told him that it was hopeless. Their only hope of salvaging what is left of their friendship is praying that some god knocks sense into Livia's head. Sarah just shook her head and said, "girls like us don't forgive easily. The world hurt us one too many times, and our hearts are now made of stone and ice". James immediately understood.
But it wasn't him who hurt her.
He would never let himself do such a thing. Livia was his best friend, and on more than one occasion, James wanted her to be more than that. Sometimes. He'd rather bury himself than let the truth be known to the world.
Most of their friends managed to realise it right away. But Livia never did. When they were all fussing over dating and the cutest boys and girls at school, Livia was the only one shaking her head, telling them that it was all puppy love at their age.
"Relationships require fucking time and energy, people," James could still recall her musing. "Wait till you're like, fifteen or something."
Funnily enough, both of them dated for the first time at that exact age. James still remembered Eleanora. So pretty, like a porcelain doll. So kind, but also why he had to break it off. Livia 'dated' Alvin Hershall, if it could even be considered dating. James had never seen the two of them anywhere outside of school. Even when they were, Livia clearly resented Alvin, and it made James wonder why she even agreed to go out with him in the first place. Later on, he had always assumed that it was because Livia wanted to jump on the dating train. Even the most stubborn people can crumble to peer pressure.
Or Alvin just somehow had the ability to make Livia Wong so annoyed she agreed to it. It's not impossible, though insanely hard.
Livia whispered something back to Brie, and the two girls shared another smile. James turned his head back to Mr Little, letting out a soft sigh. Jack turned to him with a sympathetic look, "Little's classes really bores everyone to tears, eh?"
James smiled, as if that was exactly what he was sighing about (it wasn't, in case you're an idiot and couldn't tell. Okay, that's a bit rude, he'll take that back). "I'm thinking of adopting the Anderson tactic."
Anderson might as well have been out cold.
Jack fought back a laugh, casting a glance at the brunette. "Jesus Christ, how is Mr Little not noticing that?"
"Livia and Brie's human wall, probably."
Jack's smile faded. His twin turned away.
James chewed on his pen for a second. Jack hadn't been a big fan of him mentioning Livia these days. Or Brie. Strange. He'll understand Livia, but why Brie? He's beginning to wonder if there's something he doesn't know about. James had never been good with figuring out people's secrets. Most of his friends were able to hide stuff from him quite easily. This could easily be the case here.
He directed his gaze to Sarah, whose back was to him. Busy copying notes, no doubt. Friendly outside of school the redhead may be, at school, she was intense.
James will never, ever understand girls.
The main girls in his life were all extremes in some way. Livia, in her stubbornness and mental strength; Sarah, in her concentration and determination to succeed academically; Victoire, with her violently explosive outbursts and out of control behaviour; his mother, completely addicted to her work to the point she might as well be neglecting her children- though he knew that she loved them and they loved her. Would it hurt, though, for them to come back more often? To look up from their work and their offices once in a while and properly acknowledge their children? James was used to it, but he could still see Toire's hurt once in a while when their parents brushed her off and told her not to bother them while they were at work. James would give her a hug and whisper, "they need to work so that we have money to spend," but they already had enough money for their entire life if they choose to live a more careful lifestyle. James and Jack would be going to work in a few years, too. Was it really necessary?
But it's their life. Not his. His parents were workaholics and he admired them for it.
His parents, he understood.
The opposite sex?
They confused him. They were like boys, but also... not. He couldn't properly understand any of them the way he understood his twin, his friends, his brother, his cousins.
His shoulders drooped. He should be listening to class, not thinking about useless things, but he also couldn't pay attention. Groaning quietly to himself, James covered his forehead on his palm, his eyes glued to his table and the textbook that laid on top of it. If he had any intention to pay attention before this, he had lost them all now. Mr Little can eat shit (okay, maybe that was a bit too rude too, but his ramblings were really annoying and barely decipherable).
He missed the old days. Honestly. He'd do anything to be able to go back to a few years ago, when they could act like everything was fine, like their lives were perfect. He wished time would freeze then, when they were all happy, and Melody and Mareena were all there with them. When they weren't counting their scars in some desperate attempt to hide them all, trying to mend the cracks in their relationships in some hope that the world wouldn't see them. It didn't work, did it? They weren't friends anymore. Not even acquaintances. Just no one. Enemies, even. He hated it. It shouldn't be this way. What changed? (Melody's death, the cursed voice in his head muttered.)
He used to think change was necessary, something you can't escape. You needed to accept it, he used to believe. Now, he wasn't so sure. It was stupid, in his opinion. Change needed to happen, but you don't need to accept it either. You can try to fight against it, make it change until it's something to your fancy.
He drummed his fingers against the desk, lost in thought. Biting his lips, his head lowered as if he was too embarrassed to look up and look someone in the eye. Maybe he was. But why was he? He had done nothing wrong. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was blameless here.
Right?
When someone faced problems, they needed to pin the blame on someone, to be able to channel all their ire at someone or something, even if deep in their heart, they knew it was wrong. James liked to think this was the case here. Livia is- was one of his closest friends, and James knows she's a stubborn person. She refuses to accept things she doesn't like. She never changes her mind on anything. It was hell to make her ever understand something or look at something from another perspective once she'd made up her mind. It took time. And time was something James didn't have much of.
The hours were ticking until they all graduated.
They weren't kids anymore. Most were seventeen now, some eighteen. Sometimes, he had to remind himself that. Everyone is allowed to have their own lives. It's selfish of him to want them all to be one happy family again, especially when so many of them want to go their own way. He won't be the one trying to force them to act like nothing had ever happened in the last few years. They had seen too much together, endured too much. It would hurt for them to even be in the same place again. He's seen the reluctance in Livia and Sarah's eyes, the wariness in Ian and Brie's.
Someday, they'll all leave Briarville. They'll attend university, get a job, get married and have kids. And then, they'll grow old. They would be no one to each other except ghosts in their memories, could have beens and should have beens. They wouldn't matter anymore. Everyone would find new friends, new families, and they'll be forgotten. Someday, he'll think about this and it won't even hurt. Someday, he'll just accept this fact and laugh at the old memories.
His heart ache. His stomach rolled. James didn't feel so good. Thinking about this hurts too much, but the thoughts kept on coming, refusing to stop. He had to stop himself from wincing.
People always told him he was too soft, that he needed to grow thicker skin and start standing up for himself. It was true. He just accepted anything thrown his way, even if it was wrong and unjust. Sometimes, he saw it as a good thing. Other times, he hated it with every inch of his existence.
The bell rang.
Class was over.