Oh, but that's the irony. Broken people are not fragile.
—clinton sammy jr.
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Mirrors - Niall Horan
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AUDREY
The flow of time is a funny phenomenon. In reality, it's nothing but a fixed number of seconds, minutes, and hours that move forward continuously with a set speed.
Yet at certain moments in our life, we might feel entirely convinced that its pace is varying: too fast or too slow.
And my conviction was that the clock hands decided to hold out a relay race in the course of these winter weeks. Weeks wrapped up in hot chocolate with marshmallows, snuggly movie nights, fuzzy socks, and the crisp smell of fresh snowflakes.
They were sliding by just too fast.
Buoyantly, I skipped through the kitchen doorway, sprinkling tiny droplets of water about. My hair was still damp from the morning shower.
"Morning!" I planted a kiss on my mother's cheek— who was pouring sesame oil onto the frying pan— and grabbed the giant cardboard box accomodating my favorite cereal.
"Morning honey!" A gentle smile settled around her eyes. "Well someone's in a good mood today. Something up?"
"Nothing particular." She watched me pick up a cereal bowl.
"Don't you prefer the warm, freshly-made breakfast?" She nodded at the wide plate beside the stove that she was filling with hash browns.
"These are for breakfast?" I set the cereal bowl aside, my attention rerouting to the appealing potato dish. "You made them especially for me?"
"Of course, you silly girl. You deserve it. I know I had been coming home a little late in the past few days. I'm sorry." I could almost see the guilt rise from her like the steam rising from the hash browns on my plate.
"Mom, you don't have to be sorry for that. It's fine," I tried to reassure her somehow, starting to eat.
She smiled in response, taking a sip from her mug. "I noticed you've become more relaxed these days. Happier. Stopped worrying meaninglessly over all those school tests. I like that Audrey better. Is there a reason?" She raised her eyebrows, almost suggestively.
I reflected about the honest answer. Was there? "Not sure," I settled on, "I'd tell you if I were," I met her playful, almost knowing eyes. How did mothers always seem to know everything? Even I didn't know myself.
"But you've actually reminded me— I've got an assessed history presentation today. Counts 80% towards the final grade."
"Well it's gonna go by just perfectly as usual, won't it? You're a smart girl." Gosh, I hoped.
In a sprightly manner, I hopped off the stool, used a napkin, and picked up my school bag. "Wish me luck!"
"You don't need it, sweetie," she turned towards me, granting me a look of encouragement. "And Audrey," she added, before I left, "Don't let anyone put out that smile of yours I've been seeing a lot lately. It's too beautiful to be hidden."
I met her heartwarming gaze. I'll try, was what my own eyes spelled out, without actually voicing them aloud. But my mother, being my mother, probably understood anyway.
* * *
I dragged myself through the hallway, wincing at the locker-slamming clamor that was characteristic of our school during breaktimes. The file in my hands was probably more tired of me than I was of it, as I went over the key points from my presentation in my head for the umpteenth time.
Cameron emerged from the stairway to my side and —having spotted me— headed straight towards me.
"Hey," I greeted him, my voice barely making it through the hubbub.
"Hey," he flashed me one of his killer smiles, his cedar and bergamot scent unmistakable. It comforted me. "Your hand looks so heavy. Let me hold it for you." Electricity swept through me as his fingers entwined with mine.
"Oh no, Cam. Not another one of those corny pick-up lines."
"Don't lie to yourself, princesa. You love them." I forced myself to ignore the unkindly prying glances we were beginning to gain.
Ignore them. Ignore them!
"Okay yeah, I'll admit—today's one was kinda cute. But generally, they suck."
"Okay, I'll take that." My body tensed involuntarily the moment I felt someone's eyes on me. A fair distance across from where we were, Scarlett was standing by her locker and piercing me with her intimidating stare. Her nostrils were flaring.
Cameron must have noticed too, as he tightened his grip over my hand, supplying me with a heartening look. It made me forget about everything else for a moment. About the commotion and the stares around us, about the history files in my hand. Even about Scarlett.
All I felt was his tender hand in mine. All I smelled was his balmy cedar and bergamot cologne. All I saw was his sincere, composed eyes.
Why should I be caring about anything else?
"What are you revising for?"
"History. The piece of work that'll basically define my year grade. No pressure whatsoever."
"But you'll ace it."
"How can you be so sure?"
"You're the smartest person I know." He stopped beside an open classroom. "I've physics here now. Anyway, good luck with that. Even though you probably won't need it."
What's with that phrase that everyone kept feeding me today?
"Thanks. See you," I beamed. He squeezed my hand before we parted ways and it may have been an insignificant gesture, but I took notice of every detail about it. It was the little things that made me swoon the most. And little things seemed to be Cameron's schtick.
Ten minutes until my history lesson, I popped into an empty bathroom stall with the intention of calming down my nerves. Midway through my mental self pep talk (which mainly consisted of repeating I can do this over and over again), two scornful laughs made their way into the ladies'. I recognized one voice as being Ashley's and the other must have been one of her friends from the group.
I glanced at my watch. Six minutes to go. Fantastic.
How was I gonna make it to history now without drawing their attention?
Ashley switched her voice into gossip mode. I found myself not having any other option other than to overhear. "Tsh, hear me out. You remember that hot boy from computing, Cameron? I think I heard he's going out with that short nerdy girl, what was her name?"
My breath hitched, a big lump forming midway through the pathway of my windpipe.
"Oh, I think I know who you mean! That antisocial girl who wears baggy cartoon shirts? I think it was Addison? Or was it Andrea?"
I felt attacked on a personal level now. What was wrong with cartoon shirts?
"Anyway, never mind. Let me just tell you something though, they lowkey make a cute couple."
Ashley's friend scoffed. "You better don't say that around Scarlett. She'll go absolutely nuts!"
"I know. Ever since he'd talked to her she's acting so furious. I'm not the only one who thinks so though."
"What do you mean 'talked to her'?"
"Dunno, he just came up to us one day and said he needed to speak with Scarlett alone. I didn't hear much. Something about him not being interested. I'd never seen her so. . .annoyed."
I heard their volume diminish gradually as they presumably went out but waited for it to vanish from hearing completely to walk out of the stall myself. With no one in sight, I finally let go of the weighty breath I had been holding in.
Blimey. Was there a way to breathe in this school without someone coming up with and spreading a rumor about it? It was so childishly predictable I didn't even want to waste my energy being irked about the fact that it was untrue.
Sure, that old feeling of being gossiped about was quick to bore into me like a wasp's stinger, injecting the venom I was no stranger to. But I wasn't going to let it consume me.
Not this time.
Afraid of what I will see, I finally looked at my watch. Two minutes past.
Oh my gosh. I was going to be late for the most important history lesson of the year.
And I'd never been late before in the whole year. Never. This joke of a situation was worthy of a hysterical laugh fit but it's not like I had any time to spare.
I darted in the direction of the classroom, never before feeling so unprepared for something of such great significance. Both Cameron and Mom had been wrong, after all.
I was going to need the luck.
***
I sat up in my bed abruptly, tasting salt and moisture, my cheeks damp and my breath short. Wiping the single teardrop still rolling down my face with my shoulder, I looked down at the sheets that I was still tightly clutching with white knuckles.
It was not a nightmare I'd just woken up from, however, but the sweetest dream yet. What would look like a dear, childhood memory to an outsider. An outsider who didn't know how many sleepless nights I'd put into trying to forget that side of my past, trying to numb all the feelings coming along with those flashbacks.
Its cloying sweetness was exactly what made it the worse kind of nightmare to me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. It had been a long time since I had been dipped into that dark abyss of my past. Something grasped me by the stomach—grasped me the way my fingers were still clinging onto the sheets with all might. Some invisible monstrous hand that refused to let go of me.
I reached towards the bedside table for my phone, the blinding light of its screen emanating through the darkness of my room. 1:24 AM
Some force was driving me to text Cameron. I didn't suppress it.
me: are you awake?
I pursed my lips, tapping my fingers against my pastel blue phone case as I waited hopefully for a reply.
Three minutes have passed but they felt like three centuries to me.
cam: no, i've actually mastered this new technique of typing while i sleep
His familiar form of sarcasm pulled the corners of my lips upwards.
me: you and your smart mouth
me: i woke you up, didn't I?
cam: nah, i wouldn't exactly call that sleep
cam: so don't worry bout it
cam: what happened anyway?
me: nothing
me: just a bad dream
me: you in the mood for a nighttime roof talk?
cam: always
me: if not it's totally ok tho
But he was already offline.
A bracing night zephyr greeted me when I opened the window and stepped out in my plush penguin-pattern pyjama.
I hugged my knees, raising my eyes upwards, diving into the comfort of the gripping view of the night sky.
Quiet.
Serenity.
Beauty.
I could stare at its allure for hours and hours and it would still instill this hair-raising thrill in my sentimental heart.
I snapped my head at the rustling below. Then released a sigh of relief. It was him.
"You didn't have to come if you didn't want to, Cam. People should sleep at night, you know."
"And you're the first person to be giving that advice," he gave a short laugh, "I did want to—I was having a sleepless night myself. Nothing beats the views from your roof at a night like this."
A night like this. A thought occurred to me, for the first time, that maybe Cameron had his own restless nights.
I suddenly felt curious about what storms it was that he bore inside himself, what secrets he was holding in.
I didn't know him that closely, but close enough to have noticed how his reactions differed from the rest of the boys his age I knew. He seemed able to conceal whatever he hid inside like a concrete wall, an expressionless mask over his face. It was this controlled demeanor—the demeanor of a person who's been through something in life.
I wondered what were the torments that had shaped him this way.
"Have you been crying?" His eyes searched my face, concern echoing through his voice.
I didn't respond. Instead, I only buried my chin further into my knees.
"Is something wrong, Audrey?"
"No, I'm fine. It's just that dream."
"Wanna tell me about it?"
I met his intent, careful eyes. They were two deep forests, full of secrets and mysteries. I felt bad rejecting his offer, knowing he'd likely act differently if I were to ask about his secrets, but I couldn't give in. I wasn't ready.
"It's okay if you don't. I understand. We all have matters we'd rather keep to ourselves." His eyes traveled to the stellar canvas up above.
"Do you?" It was unfair of me to ask, especially right after I'd pushed his own question aside, but my treacherous tongue let me down.
"Don't most of us?" He cast me a sideways glance, evading my question but answering it all the same.
"If you change your mind, I'll be here, Audrey Dahlia. Just so you know. As a pal to share a deep conversation with in the middle of the night. On a roof."
I provided him with the smallest of smiles.
"Why are you doing this, Cam?" I found myself thinking aloud, after a lulled patch of silence.
"Doing what?"
"Getting closer to me," I bore my eyes straight into his. "I'm not what you think. I'm a storm, Cameron. A raging and chaotic storm. Not all the sunshine and butterflies that most girls are about."
A mild smile crept onto his lips as he considered my words. "I'd always liked rainy days over sunny weather."
I shook my head. You don't know what you're talking about.
You will get hurt! Run while you can! The words burned the tip of my tongue but I didn't let them out.
"You were right about what you said that day." I straightened my legs out. "I do have trust issues. Apparently. It's just, it's hard to give out trust again after having lived through the negative consequence of it. But I know that I'm not right. That other people haven't done anything to me. That they deserve better. That you deserve better."
"I understand, Audrey. It's alright," consolation resonated through his mellow voice.
"It's not." I stared at my flexed bare ankles.
Another silence had begun to build up before Cameron crowded it with words. "Do you trust me, princesa?"
Taken aback, I pondered on his question.
I didn't trust people with ease— I couldn't afford it. But after searching deep within me, I found myself concluding that the truth was I trusted Cameron. And I had a feeling he trusted me too. I think that trust was formed upon the strange intimacy we had, which enhanced whenever we shared something that meant a lot to us with each other.
And it was the certainty of the fact that we both understood the extent to which those secrets meant to each of us that created the feeling of mutual trust.
"I trust heartbroken people," I came out with. "They'd understand the importance of it. They'd been through the pain."
"How would you know I'm heartbroken?" His voice dropped to a faint, hushed tone.
I let the sounds of night fill the air between us while I picked my next words.
"The same way you know that I am." We were looking at each other, perhaps even through each other. We both knew we had secrets from each other. We also knew we both were a mess.
But it didn't matter. It was okay. Our bygones were bygones. We had to let them be.
I leaned into his shoulder, closing the microscopic space between us. Inhaled the soothing aroma of his cologne. Let it overwhelm me.
The stars above set fire to my eyes. I fluttered them shut, feeling Cameron's arm wrap around me, as the lullaby of the night performed by crickets and fireflies wrapped around us in turn.
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I'm pretty fond of how this chapter turned out, ngl. i'm so excited for the upcoming scenes. stay tuned, things are getting there ;)
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stay awesome
btw how do u guys like the new format? i'll neaten things up when i'm finished with the first draft, don't worry