Loving the Clouds

Chapter 8

For a while things were perfect.

After that, we ate lunch together every day. Sometimes his friend with the peppery hair would join us, sometimes not. Either way, it did not matter. He was all that I saw. In every smile thrown my way by friends, I compare it to Everett's rare, soulful smile that could rival the sun. Every time I see a boy with blue eyes, I think about how they don't come close to the grey-blue eyes that make my heart beat a mile a minute. Whenever a person walks by with red sweater and a mop of brown hair, I can't stop the fluttering in my stomach at the thought that it could be him. I find myself looking forward to math class, in hopes that I get a chance to talk to him.

My friends grow distant, too caught up in their own world to pay attention to me. This does not surprise me, really. I've never had any best friends, just close friends. We share interests, stories, gossip, sleepover at each others houses, but it never seemed . . . real. To me, it seemed like they were trying too hard to be something they aren't. Of course, I never mentioned it. I would let it slide, and put on a sugary smile. They were still the friends I've had since public school. We got along, we shared interests, and that's all I needed. Yet lately, I've had less of a tolerance for their try-hard conversations. With Everett, I find myself being more honest then I've ever been with them.

But as we all know, every good thing must come to an end.

I remember the day that things started to go wrong. It was a Monday, and the day was beautiful. It's funny, how often I find myself using that word, "beautiful". Even so, I believe this word is fitting enough to describe it. The sky was clear and a deep blue, the sun hovering gracefully with its heat radiating earth. The birds had decided to sing, and their melodies danced along the small hours of the morning. Even the trees stood taller, though maybe that was just me. Summer was clearly on its way.

It was a pleasant surprise, when I saw Everett in the morning. He was walking to school.

Now, this is not a everyday routine. I myself walked to school instead of taking the bus simply for the pleasure of drinking in the sights of the morning. It always succeeded in properly waking me up, not to mention keeping me from downing five coffees per morning. Maybe it was the birds, or the colours, but something about a sunset calmed me. Now of course, it has always been just me on my trek, but today was different. Today, there was Everett.

I caught sight of him fairly quickly, as I rounded the first corner. He was a stretch ahead of me, maintaining a quick, steady pace. A unfamiliar baggy black jacket was thrown over his frame, the hood up and covering his dark brown hair. His shoulders were hunched, his face aimed at the sidewalk, and if I squinted, I could see a hint of earbuds poking out of his hood. I was too delighted to realize what was wrong about this picture.

But of course, all I could think about was how my pulse had betrayed me, beating as fast as a racehorse. My pace quickened until I was only a couple strides behind him.

A grin on my face, I call, "Hey, Everett! Wait up."

His body tenses as his stride falters. Though he recovers smoothly, and starts walking faster. I just laugh and keep pace with him, giving him a poke on the shoulder.

"You can't get rid of me that easy," I say, glancing at him.

"Go away, Robin," he mutters, cutting to the other side of the street.

I tag along behind him, brushing off the harsh words, "Going away is too boring. By the way, do you walk to school every morning? Because I never see you. And-"

"No, okay?" He snaps, "Now leave me alone."

My smile falters, "Haha, very funny. That was almost convincing, there-"

"I said get away from me, Robin!" He explodes, stopping as his hood whips back to show his stormy grey eyes swirling with anger.

Flinching, I take a step away from him. Guilt flashes across his eyes, though anger quickly covers it up. Now, I see the bags hiding under his bloodshot eyes. A small purple circle stands out at the side of his face.

"Everett," I say shakily, "What are you talking about?"

He has calmed down a bit, but I still see the storm clouds in his eyes. "Just get away from me, while you still can."

He turns to start walking again, but I jump in front of him. He flicks me an irritable look, but I do not budge. It is stupid of him to think I'm just gonna let him walk away after that outburst.

"You explain right now, Everett Weston," I demand, "Or I'm not leaving this spot."

He sighs in annoyance, "You don't get it, Robin. I'm a fucking storm, alright? I will drag you into my life screw you up and toss you away, and I won't even know it. Just forget about me, you're better off that way."

My hand snakes out to grab his arm, my eyes furiously glaring at his, "Don't you walk away. You aren't a storm, Everett. I'm not going to get hurt. I've got you, don't I?"

"No, you don't," he hisses, "Now let me go."

I shake my head defiantly, "I don't think so. You aren't a damn storm, so stop telling yourself you are. You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

He laughs humourlessly, pain lacing his expression, "Of course, you don't believe me. What else did I expect."

My eyes narrow, "What does that mean?"

"You're perfect," he spits venomously, "You have everything. A perfect family, a perfect house, perfect friends, you don't have a worry in the world. Everything is rainbows and unicorns for you, isn't it? You wouldn't know pain if it slapped you in the face."

Every word is a dagger thrown at my heart. I can feel tears brim at my eyes, and I hastily wipe them away with my sleeve. His eyes are a torrent of emotions, and I curse myself that I had not noticed it before.

"E-Everett," I stutter feebly, "I-"

"Don't you dare try and contradict me," he seethes, his voice cracking, "Do you know what it's like, to come home every night to a drunk throwing beer bottles at your head, not caring if he missed or not? Do you know what's it's like to be ignored every night, as if you were as important as a speck of dirt? Do you know what it's like to go to sleep every night without a kiss from your mother, saying it's going to be alright?

"You have no fucking clue, and it kills me. You have everything, and I have nothing! I refuse to bring you into my life, knowing all that you will be in the end is broken."

Furious tears have sprung from his eyes and slide down his cheeks, and he wipes them away with the back of his hand. So much anger clouds his eyes, and it breaks my heart. And with them, I see pain. A black sky of despair behind the cloud-grey orbs. He knows pain, he knows suffering, and it has a grip on his heart that refuses to shake. It is at that moment, that I realize that what he has said is true.

I have everything, and he has nothing. The sad truth is that, in the short while since I first saw him, I've known all along.

He walks away. This time, I do not stop him. For every step he takes, I feel as if he is miles away from me. Through the clouds. Past the sky. Maybe he is on the moon.

That day, beneath the beautiful sky and the singing birds, I let him go.