James was in the backseat, alone. It was the first time that week he'd actually been alone. It was calming in a way, but it also gave him time to think. Which he definitely did not want to do. He did it anyway, and he felt guilty enough to want to drive that old abandoned car off a cliff.
It just happened. It just happened, but he didn't stop it, it happened and he went along with his long spun story of heartbreak. For what? Because he felt he wasn't good enough for Betty? So he'd push her away? Make her feel worse? Lie to her?
I'm right where you left me, she'd said the day he left, their spot, their forest walk, her kiss, their memory.
He hadn't thrown it all away, he knew. Betty didn't know. It could go back to normal. He could end it and pretend like nothing happened. But he couldn't let go of Augustine. It was fun, but she wasn't the one. They both were aware of that, he could see it in her eyes when she looked up from her sketch to stare into nothing. He knew she could see it in those moments when he couldn't hide his hurt at not talking to Betty.
He rubbed his eyes, wiping off the few tears that glistened on his cheek. He pulled out his phone hastily, and inhaled sharply. It was impulsive, but he missed her. Several attempts and a deleted confession later, he sent her a simple hi, with a frying pan emoji.
He snorted thinking how long it had been since they used that. They were kids when they'd watched 'Tangled,' and decided that for every person you care about, they must be hit in the head with a frying pan. James remembered Betty swinging hers too hard and giving him a big bruise on the side of his head, as well as a bleeding ear. She'd panicked and used all her Peppa Pig band aids.
In return, he'd tried to chop her ear off as well, but he was, to that day, a terrible shot. He entirely missed her head and only managed to hit her shoulder. She'd stuck her tongue out and never let him try it again, gloriously manifesting the tale a few years later.
He stared at the cat on his lock screen. It's yellow eyes seemed to be judging him. Like they were glaring at his soul.
"Stupid psychic little angels," he muttered under his breath.
"OH NOW IT'S MY FAULT THIS HAPPENED?" he almost yelled at the cat. It stood, unmoving, a picture of eloquence and pinterest.
"I swear these cats need to stop judging me," he squeaked.
"What the hell are you up to," he heard her before he saw her, sliding into the backseat, a picture of his worst intentions. She was in a little black dress, with smudges of gold paint here and there, and a fleck across her cheek.
"How'd you find me?" he asked, surprised.
She shrugged. "The Grammas told me," she chuckled, "They're kinda obsessed with you. I'm pretty sure I know why."
He grinned, "You know I can totally imagine Gramma Heather getting dressed up in floral spy gear with creepy green binoculars and like, stalking us and reporting to the other grammas." While Augustine laughed and snorted, he realised he knew Lake Centennial's grandmas better than he knew his own dad. He brushed off the thought, but it had ruffled him.
She pulled him in for a kiss, and he stiffened. She pushed back, and looked him in the eye, concerned.
"What's wrong?" she asked, and he felt a twang of guilt.
"Nothing," he muttered, far too quickly. He repeated, slowly, with a shy smile, "It's fine, I'm just a little tired today."
She smiled and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Tine-" he said.
"Yes?" she asked, her green eyes quizzical.
"Nothing," he laughed. It wasn't nothing though. He was ready to come clean, to tell her the truth, to ruin everything. Because every time she kissed him, every night when she was with him, every time he felt her hands on his back, he thought of Betty- perfect, happy, amazing Betty.
Betty who'd been by his side through everything, Betty who'd make him his favourite coffee when he cried, Betty who'd be so strong, always. His Betty. But she wasn't really his Betty anymore. He'd given that up, he'd given it up the moment he met Augustine. There were parts of him that wish he hadn't, but he knew better than to lie about that.
"Hey James," Augustine said, holding his hand. He nodded, "I'm gunna just, give you some time alone okay? Looks like you need it. And if you don't, meet me behind the mall. Probably that cotton candy stall. Look for a devilishly pink person called Tine."
She got out, gently shut the door, and waved. He smiled back, but he wasn't really paying attention to her.
He was staring at his phone, with a text from Betty. "I miss you, wanna talk?" and a frying pan emoji.
He called her, and she picked up immediately.
"Hey," he said, his mouth dry.
"Whatcha up to?" she said, casually, like it hadn't been a few weeks since they last spoke. Like she wasn't missing him the way he was missing her.
But still, he lied, and lied some more, but he got to hear her, hear her voice, hear her laugh and even through everything weighing him down, she seemed to make him feel, lighter, happier.
They spoke, casual banter like usual, but it hurt him.
In the end, as he heard her yawn, he spoke softly, but quickly. "Betty i'm sorry."
"For what," she asked, mid yawn.
"If I ever hurt you, I'm sorry, I don't mean it," he said, the lie making him sick.
She laughed lightly, and sighed and just before she clicked the phone off, just before he broke down crying she said, "You'll never hurt me, James. Look at all the magic we've made."
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hello there ya honey covered waffles, thoughts on my painfully caffeinated chapter?
ilysm, thanks for reading
x, rajita
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dropped your hand while dancing
Fanfiction- a folklorian love triangle - She'd hugged him then as she hugged him now, only this time she leaned on the willow instead of climbing it, this time they weren't just holding hands in silence, her hand was under his sweatshirt, and she lifted her...
