"I'm well aware of my problems."
"Like your intelligence?" It's my turn to go silent. My eyes are fearful, but not the fear I felt when he stumbled into my house. Instead, a fear of how he has hit something that I'm incredibly insecure about and trusted him with knowing. Now he's using it against me. "How you overwork yourself because you're terrified you'll never prove to yourself how intelligent you are because there will always be a person like Vylad, or Kandi, that will always be one step ahead of you. Who will always know a little more, so you feel threatened. You feel threatened that others will see you're just as unintelligent as you see yourself."
"This family is messed up," I say, shaking my head. I'm about ready to gather myself up and to leave. Something here makes me stop. Prevents me from taking another step back. Is it defeat? "When was the last time your father went to one of your games, Garroth?"
"This isn't about my father."
"Or that Zane willingly went to spend time with his family? Or Vylad didn't feel pressured to perfect every test? Or, Kandi didn't hop around to another older boy for yet again, another fling. Dante is, what, the third this year? That your father creates pressure on you to take over the family business when that's not what you want. How the relationship between him, Vylad, and Kandi is poor but staged in the eye of the public. How Zane needs to present himself more and is just going through a stage of his life. Your last name helps create this pressure, Garroth. Never in my life have I been more thankful for the last name of Zvahl. And you know, right? Maybe Kandi was right. You would break my heart, and a string of relationships would unravel with it."
He reaches for my hand, but I wrap my arms around myself again to prevent him from touching me. I don't want him to touch me.
Garroth is quick for a defense, reminding me that he's not for complete blame. I'm well aware that I was a part of this. How I supported and encouraged this relationship every step of the way. I voice this, taking part of the blame, but not all.
"Is this your way of ending this?"
"Yeah, yeah it is," I tell him. Garroth's already walking away from me slowly. "Because I'm not risking everything else for this relationship."
That's the last thing either of us says. I take a final look at him before his figure retreats into his car and drives off. His face is scrunched up together in pure anger. There's no sparkle in his eyes anymore, and it's replaced with darkness. His hands are in fists, and his posture is poor.
If I were to paint this, there would be him, in all his anger, and I. I think I would be more fragile than I was a few seconds ago. I feel like crying, and it takes all that's in me to hold it within. It's only a matter of time before I'm sitting with my back pressed against the tree and my phone in hand. Sniffles fill my end of the speaker, cries following.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
"You were with my brother."
Vylad's words aren't a question. They're a confirming statement to himself. One full of disappointment. He's taking this far better than I thought he would, but I still feel as though I should be the one to make him feel better, than the other way around.
Our shoulders and upper arms are pressed together. This doesn't feel wrong. It doesn't feel as though I'm betraying anyone anymore. I rest my head against his shoulder, and he doesn't flinch. Disappointment rises within me.
"Sadly, yeah. I fell for him, and I fell hard." The world feels like it's slowing down again. It doesn't feel as though it's racing, like it had with my fight with Garroth. It feels normal. "I'm sorry about what I said in that argument. I didn't say anything about you wanting to leave after college and never come back."
He places his hand on top of mine and looks over to me. "Your parents died due to a drunk driver, didn't they? That's why it bothered you so much."
It doesn't surprise me that Vylad quickly changes the topic off of him onto me. I know there's appreciation for keeping that part a secret, but he's never been one to focus on himself. He always deflects onto something else. This once, I don't fight against it. Instead, I agree. Vylad understands one more thing than Garroth ever did.
We sit there together for what feels like mere minutes. I have no doubt that it could've been hours. The temperature began to grow cooler, and he offered me his sweatshirt. This is my best friend.
"Where were you six months ago?" I joke, elbowing him before he stands up.
I turn to my side to grab onto my purse before I could stand with him. It's getting dark, and it's best we both leave. I can only imagine how many messages Laurance has sent me asking where I am.
"Hey Al?"
I tilt my head to look up at him. I expect a pretty sunset framing his face, his brown hair being a nice contrast to the pastel colors. I don't get that.
Instead, I feel lips against mine.
