13 |

heartbreaks and assholes

Wednesday morning is the first time I feel like I can finally swallow the food past the lump that's managed to grow inside my throat after what happened on Friday.

I've been getting better, slowly getting used to to the fact that whatever has been between Collin and me was over, up until the point when he appeared in the living room of my own fucking house. That's when the pain of loss came back, settling into every single cell of my being, and kissing him only made me angrier. At everything. Him - for having the goddamn nerve to be getting high and wasted with Brad, for barging into my room and for fucking everything up even more with acting like his kiss was the last thing I was waiting for. And myself - for letting my guard slip down and allowing the kiss to happen in the first place.

Dwelling on past has never helped anyone, it certainly hasn't helped my mom or me, or even Sarah, when we tried to cope with Dad's loss, but never really tried because we didn't want to let go.

I don't want to make the same mistake with Collin.

He's not here and my life has to go on even without him in it. He might be my first real heartbreak, but he's certainly not about to be the last.

I'm seventeen, for God's sake. There's an abundance of people to fall in love with waiting for me out there somewhere. Well, few months short of turning eighteen, but same difference.

We're sitting in the cafeteria and I've just taken a big bite of my blueberry muffin that came as a part of the breakfast the school serves, because eating here seems like a much better option to me than having to spend more time trapped inside the house with Brad than what's necessary, when Timothy asks, "Have you figured out yet what's our Lit project going to be about?"

Surprised by the question, I shift in the chair a little, trying to swallow before giving him an answer. He continues though, his brown eyes focused on me. "I'm just asking 'cause we have to have the theme chosen by the end of the class today."

"I know," I mumble, looking off to the entrance door, "I'm working on it. You know you can throw in some suggestions as well, right?"

My tone is teasing, not anywhere near as teasing as it once used to be, but judging by the circumstances, I'd say this is the best I can come up with. With everything going on, some bullshit Literature assignment is the last thing I want to occupy my mind with, but I know thinking about something else other than Collin and my mom and Sarah and Bishop's silence and Brad and just everything, focusing on some school work can only be beneficial.

Distractions help with heartbreak, or at least that's what I read in a magazine once, and I'm fully set on testing that theory out myself.

"Hey, I already suggested three people," Timothy draws back slightly, giving me a mock-hurt look, "and let me remind you, you said no to all three of them."

"Yeah," I roll my eyes at him, "that's because they were all American and the instructions say British. British, Timothy. Is it clear to you yet?"

Mirroring my actions, he rolls his eyes back at me, sighing, "Why can't we just do American like the other half of the class? It's bullshit. Mrs. Williams wouldn't notice anyway."

I'm about to ask him Why can't you just do what you're told to for once? but it's exactly then that Jade slides into the chair opposite us, Cassidy trailing behind her. I'm not aggravated, and I wouldn't mind sitting here alone with Timothy for the reminder of the time before the classes start, but I'm kind of glad that we got a company. I'm damn interested, to say the least, because seeing Jade with Cassidy instead of Tarryn, and Cassidy willingly sitting within few feet of Timothy these days, is something that's rare to see.

"What?" Timothy is the first one to open his mouth, glancing from Jade to Cassidy, expecting an explanation.

But Jade only rolls her eyes, twisting the cap of her Diet Coke bottle as she inserts a red straw in, "What? We are not allowed to sit here, or what?"

Her voice is completely indifferent, her expression not much different, but it still has the power to twist my stomach all the same. I've felt uncomfortable around their group at certain times before, felt like someone that sticks out while everyone else fits right in, but I hate how the tension between everyone has grown since Collin's accident. I hate how I feel comfortable barely anywhere now, no matter who I'm with, or what I'm doing.

"Wow," Timothy clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "I honestly pity everyone who has to put up with you right after you wake up, if you're this salty hours later."

Before, I'd have found that remark rude. Now though, I know better. I know that this is the way most of us interacts with one another. We snap at each other, we get into pointless banters, we throw whatever first comes to mind out there. It's either indifference or fighting, nothing in between. It's the way we cope now. It's an attempt at putting things to how they were before, but we're failing miserably.

I can hear Jade bite back into Timothy, and him tease her back, not laughing but not growling at each other either, but I tune out, focusing on Cassidy instead. She hasn't said anything since she sat down, and even though we haven't interacted all that much these past few days, I still feel drawn to her.

"Hey, what's up?" I offer her a gentle smile once her big green eyes find mine.

She sighs, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip, looking unsettled at its best, before shrugging it off. "Nothing," she sighs, picking at her muffin, "I'm just tired."

Clearly, she's not in the mood to discuss it further and I don't want to push her. Still, I feel a sense of obligation to tell her, "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

It's almost impossible to imagine that three weeks ago, she threw me out of her car after the fight we got into. Granted, I deserved it, but realizing we've never really talked about it makes me uneasy. Thinking about it also makes me more confused, because I don't think Timothy is a bad guy. He has been there for me throughout the whole shit with Collin, and he's been trying to make me feel better whenever he got the chance. He has changed a lot, and what I once thought about him no longer applies. I don't consider him a selfish, rich-ass prick anymore. But I consider Cassidy my friend, too. Which makes whatever has happened between the two of them that caused Cassidy to hate him with such passion only more confusing.

"Yeah," Cassidy nods after a beat, reaching across the table and giving my hand a tight squeeze before retracting her hand back to her lap. "I'm gonna go grab something else because this muffin is yuck."

I don't comment on the fact she hasn't even touched the muffin, except crumbling a chunk of it between her fingers. I just watch her walk off, seconds before I feel someone nudge me in my ribs.

"You ready to go?" Timothy asks me, waiting. It seems his grueling conversation with Jade has come to an end.

"Uh, yeah." I pick up my tray and slide out of my chair before he says anything else, muttering a quick "Later, Jade," and then make my way out of the cafeteria, putting the empty tray on the stack of the others, the half-eaten muffin being the only thing I'm taking with me.

Timothy catches up with me fast, and together we walk down the hallway, mostly in silence, ignoring the occasional curious glances of our peers. I don't get what kind of problem they have though, because I'm doing nothing but walking beside him, our bodies not so much as touching. The annoyance inside me is growing, and by the time we make it to the door of the Chemistry lab, where I also happen to have my Biology class from time to time, I'm feeling so irritated that I'm surprised I don't burst a damn blood vessel.

"Hey," suddenly Timothy's hand is grasping my elbow gently, turning me to face him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I ask him, searching his slightly concerned face with my eyes, all while being aware of the warmth of his fingertips on my skin.

"I don't know," he admits, a little nervously, "You just -- You just haven't said anything since we left the cafeteria, so I wanted to make sure."

Despite how he's been acting lately, I still struggle to get used to this gentle side of him. And right now, I have no idea how to respond to him, so I just end up pressing my lips into a firm line, flicking my gaze to the ground beneath my feet.

Timothy most likely takes it a cue to make his departure. He lets go of my arm, shoving it inside the pocket of his jeans as he takes a step back. "I'll see you in Lit." Playfully, he wiggles his brows at me, walking backwards now, "So start racking that brain of yours for some acceptable theme suggestions, or we'll have to make it my way."

That lifts up my mood slightly, plastering a smile across my face as I walk inside the classroom, heading toward one of the seats at the back. I planned to get here a bit earlier than just seven minutes short of the start because I know how hard it can get to get a seat at the far corner of the room when no one wants to sit in the front and risk being the center of the teacher's attention, but there's nothing I can do about it now.

Much to my luck, there are still a few seats left, and without thought I plop down onto one of the chairs, immediately leaning forward as the exhaustion hits me. Thanks to Brad and his constant friendly gatherings, I haven't been granted much time to sleep. The walls in our crappy house are paper-thin, and his friends are more than inconsiderate anyway, laughing and yelling all the damn time, sometimes even until later than three in the morning. I'm not sure how much longer I can bear functioning like this. If it wasn't for Mom, I'd have already bolted the fuck out of there already, but the more days pass, the harder it gets to hope that I'll find out something new about her. Brad still hasn't told me anything, despite his high and mighty promises back when I was living with the Adamms', but I'm not about to give up this time. He's different, and I haven't exactly figured out yet how to deal with this new version of him, but I'm working on it. For now, I'm just glad that he let go of his violent temper-spurred tendencies, and that he hasn't laid a hand on me since I've been back. I'm still planning on putting him in jail, both for abuse and drug dealing, but I have to think this through very carefully, since he knows many important people in high places, and getting out wouldn't be more than a temporary trouble for him.

I try to get as much rest as I can in the few minutes that follow before the bell rings and Mr. Navarro saunters in. He doesn't wait much and dives right into explaining the basics of Immune System, and I try to take notes but for some reason, he's talking too fast today and my head feels heavier than anything and I'm mentally fighting myself to stay upright and pay attention.

I'm not sure how much time passes, but I hope it's more than just ten minutes because I want this class to be over already, when the door swings open, momentarily cutting Mr. Navarro off. He stares out the door, at whoever is standing there that I can't see because of the position of my seat, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose.

He doesn't attempt to say anything, and he doesn't have to because the person that steps in is already doing it for him, "Sorry I'm late, professor. I got held up in the principal's office for a bit."

That person is no one else but Collin.

And just the mere sight of him, after nearly a week, is enough to settle a sickening feeling over me.

He is not supposed to be here. He is supposed to be at San Lorenzo High School, where his father transferred him, and not goddamn here.

"Alright," I hear Mr. Navarro say, even though my ears feel like clogged with mud, "Take a seat."

I'm frozen, unable to move my eyes at anything besides the spot on my table that I'm concentrating damn hard on as I try to calm down the rapid beating of my heart. I'm beyond pissed again, but this time at myself for getting so worked up at sight of him, after how much better I've gotten in pushing down the feeling of anger toward him during the past few days. Now it feels like it's ruined again. And I know I can't blame him for that, but I do. Because if he wasn't here, if he hasn't decided to transfer back, I sure as hell wouldn't be forced to face this situation right now.

Certainly not without being warned in advance, which makes me wonder whether Timothy or Cassidy or Jade, or anyone else for that matter knew about Collin coming back. Is that why Cassidy was acting so weird this morning? I don't want to jump into stupid conclusions but I can't ignore the way being possibly left out of something feels.

After that point, the span of my attention regarding Biology is shot to hell, but I still don't dare to look around the classroom to see where Collin's sitting.

Somehow, I bear sitting in my seat without excusing myself to the bathroom just so I could get the hell out of there for the next half hour, finally hearing the bell ring.

I don't wait another second before shooting up and grabbing my stuff and my backpack, and I definitely don't waste any time before bolting out to the hallway.

I don't look back, and I'm pretty sure I've never been more desperate to get out of somewhere.

Two classes later, I'm sitting beside Timothy, Collin right at the table behind us.

I'm still angry, even though the anger has subdued by now, though more than anything, I'm anxious. Beyond anxious, and I know it's his presence that's causing me the turmoil.

He hasn't so much as spoken to me. Not that I expected him to, and I'm certainly not complaining because I haven't looked in his direction all that much, either, but still. It angers me how five days ago he was kissing me and now he can't even appear interested.

He can greet Timothy, talk to him even, but he can't greet me?

Asshole. Asshole. Asshole.

It seems as though Friday night is constantly coming back to bite me in the ass. I'm regretting I kissed him back so much more than I did the past days. And here I thought I couldn't feel more contempt for him, or his poor choices, but apparently, it can always get worse.

It's not that I want to hate him. But the way he's acting isn't giving me much of a choice. He has fucked all of us over, and now he's come back to do even more damage it seems.

"Who did you write down?" Timothy asks me when he sees me slide the slip of paper for our theme choices over to Raven, the red-haired girl I acknowledge from some of my other classes.

Timothy told me I could choose anyone, cause he didn't really care that much since we couldn't have gone with either of his American suggestions, and that Literature in general doesn't say that much to him, so I took the matter to my own hands.

"Virginia Woolf," I tell him, doubting he'll even know who that is, judging by his previous revelation.

He remains watching me for a few seconds, then nods twice. "Alright. Good." He still looks a bit confused as he rests his elbows against the desk, leaning slightly forward. "You free later today? So we can get a head-start on it?"

"Yeah, yeah," I find myself nodding, "I have practice tomorrow anyway so the sooner we finish the better. It shouldn't take long."

And just then, as Timothy opens his mouth to respond, the loud voice from behind bursts our bubble. "Why can't I just be with Timothy?" I'd recognize the voice anywhere because that voice still holds so much power over me. So much in fact that I can't stop myself from turning back around, and finally, for the first time in a week's time look directly at Collin.

"Because," Mrs. Williams, our Lit teacher starts, trying to sound authoritative, "Timothy's already paired up with someone, Collin. Connor isn't."

A part of me wants to look at Connor at the mention of his name, but I can't bring myself to it. I'm too captured by Collin. Growing angrier and angrier by each second, and even though I try not to, I sympathize with him. It's apparent this is hard for him. His interactions with Connor had been stained permanently because Connor still blames him for his brother's death. Collin has told me not so long ago, after all.

Groaning in exasperation, Collin lowers his head onto the table in front of him, the impact creating a pretty audible thud. "This is not fair. You don't get it."

His voice is so pained, so weak that the anger inside me evaporates and I want to lean over and squeeze his hand, tell him that Adam's death, no matter how much he thinks it, is one of the things that are not his fault.

I don't do it, though. We're long past comforting each other.

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DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE! :)

Q: willing to share your thoughts on this chapter? Collin returning back to Highland High? do you think Timothy and the others knew about it and didn't tell Aspen? what about Collin's sudden indifference toward Aspen? and Aspen's change of opinion about Timothy? please let me know in the comments below. also, i'm very excited for the next chapter because things are about to finally move forward a little i guess? can't tell which direction tho, cause y'know, i'd be spoiling the plot.

all the love,
Nessa.