dropped your hand while dancing

-ii-

'does my girlfriend not like me anymore?' he typed into his phone, on his way to Lake Centennial. It was almost dawn, but he hadn't been able to sleep. He'd been avoiding this.

This insecurity. This question. Would Betty get bored and toss him out just like everyone else? He loved her, he always had. But Betty was pretty, Betty was funny, she was like the sun, sparkling with her short strawberry blonde curls, with her fluid brown eyes, her fierce gaze when she was playing basketball, like her life depended on it.

He stared at his phone. The question just stood there, the cursor seemed to mock him. His purple nails glittered. He sighed, leaned his head back anxiously. The first time this feeling had crept in was prom, barely a week ago.

He'd told Betty he'd be late, his mother was having one of her bad days. Well, at least- worse than usual. She'd nodded, understanding and said she'll see him there. She'd looked amazing, with her orange dress and boots. He'd been excited, but nervous nonetheless. He hated the long stares, the awkward interactions. That was probably why he felt happy with Betty. Not once, for they had known each other for so very long- not once did he feel out of place with her.

He'd seen the orange flash as soon as he got there. Right across the room, but as he edged to her, careful not to run into anyone, he saw her turn, flash a smile at what he thought was him. It faded though, as she walked up to him. Malcolm. Second in charge of the basketball team, right after Betty. James had never hated him, but somehow Malcolm seemed to avoid him. And the more he thought about that night, the two of them laughing and smiling, the rosier the scene got- and it hurt every single time.

He'd walked up to her a while later, a weak smile on his face. She seemed unbothered. Does she not want me anymore? he'd thought at the time. She danced with him, they walked home together, same grin- same laugh but it sounded different to him.

"This is you, kid," his mum's boyfriend grunted from the front seat. "I dunno what Karli was thinking sending you here, this place looks like hell." he said. James would have pointed out that he, in fact, was dropping him off in a forest, and that the back gate was at least half a mile away, but he was too tired to argue. He murmured a thank you and stepped out. He groggily headed to the back of the pickup truck to get his bags.

"James-," she whispered, the familiar voice- faint memories of her in the debate team. At that point however, James almost fainted, holding tightly onto the edge of the truck.

"It's Augustine," she said again, in a whisper. "I- know," he managed. She smiled a little, before frowning. "I have a lot to explain," she started. "You bet you do," he muttered. "But just let me stay with you- for a while, please James. I- you'll understand." There was an edge of desperation in her voice, one that James had heard in his voice when he'd plead with his father all those years back. He sighed, pulling his bag out.

"Hey kid, what's taking you so long?" his mum's boyfriend yelled from up front. James swallowed. "Nothing, it was stuck!" he yelled back.

"Get out," he murmured, as she nodded and nimbly got out, heading to a tree to hide behind. So the trees do come in handy then, he thought. He waved to his mum's boyfriend, as he aggressively turned and drove off, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

"So," he said, turning around to face Augustine. "Care to explain what's going on?"

She faced him, her greenish eyes glinting under the one lonely lamp in the middle of the woods. He'd seen her before, on those annual 'support and therapy for kids with broken homes' thing the school would put up, but they'd never spoken. Augustine- well Augustine was a year older, and was one of the most intriguing seniors. Rebellious, to some extent. Popular. Closed. And no one blamed her for it. Her parents had been murdered, after all. Being raised by a step-mum, who only took her in out of guilt and pity was hard.

She'd moved out of Cordelia Street then, with her step-mum, James must've been around seven. He barely remembered it, everyone barely remembered it- they ignored it, tried to forget it and Augustine, well she was young enough to change. Young enough to be forgotten. Young enough to start over.

"I- had to get away this summer. My-," she swallowed, "Well Kim, she hasn't been home in months. She's done something bad, she's probably fled with her cronies and their getaway car, and someone- someone's going to come looking for her, and I don't want to be there to blame-," she spoke faster now, almost trying to spill it out. James saw her hands shaking, but met her eyes. She held his gaze. "I knew you were leaving, everyone knew you were leaving- and I thought you'd understand better than most. I cannot leave." She practically pleaded, as James held onto her shaking hands. He did understand, he thought; as he wrapped his arms around her. She melted in, just a little, and whispered, "Thank you."

He sneaked her into his room at his father's cabin that night, carefully locking the door.

She was already on his bed, so he curled up on the beanbag with his usual mug of instant coffee. Drifting off he heard her speak again. And it broke- everything.

"Hey James," she'd said. "Cm'ere." 

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hi there eHEhE-  welcome to augustine. i've put these up today cause fearless (taylor's version) just came out and like, i'm sobbing and squealing and i- YEAH 

weekly updates- tuesday/wednesday

love ya'll, rajita

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