Ready For It?

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River

Following a few minutes after Ari, the first thing I noticed were the eyes. The long, lingering stares that seem to follow me around. It was such a strange, yet familiar scenario that I couldn't quite grasp why. Why I recognised the feeling for a few seconds until I came to the corridor with my locker in and their eyes shifted. Going from evasively around me to a more focused look and whispers. Whispers that cling to me along with the looks and clue me in instantly as to why I recognise the feelings. Why I could understand my body's reaction.

The memories.

All because as soon as Ari mentioned to me this morning that he'd come back all I could suddenly see was him. The memories we shared as kids, the good hurting more than the bad. All I could feel was the pain he'd left me with when he'd left. Are you sure you're ready for it? Ari's words echo as I mechanically keep walking, hugging my arms around me as if to better prepare for seeing Phoenix again. As if it could somehow save me from the pain.

But that idea shatters as soon as I see him. The same person I hadn't seen in five years but who I'd never stopped missing. Only he wasn't quite the same since in the five years apart I'd I had to remember we weren't twelve anymore. That we'd both grown up. In my case I'd had to do a 180 switch in character - at least on the outside - whilst from the distance Phoenix seemed to have not changed. He seemed the same as ever as if he'd merely spent the last five years changing on the inside not out. As to an outsider, he was every inch the heartbreaker people had tried to warn me he was. Thick dark hair. Bewitching blue-silver eyes and the toned body of an athlete under golden skin. Exactly as I remember only an older and marginally hotter version of the twelve-year-old boy who once was my everything.

To my right, the sound of a locker door being slammed shut and resumed gossip of people around reminded me to look away. But it's as if my body had been so starved of him that it no longer obeyed my commands. Meaning that despite how hard I tried I couldn't bring myself to look away, even when his eyes restlessly scanned the corridor before landing on mine. My breath stops for a second before a blonde head I recognise as belonging to one of the varsity cheer squad steps up and blocks my view. Breaking our eye contact when Phoenix turns his attention to her. Sweeping my eyes down I can't miss the whispers. The pointed looks clued me into that my little staring contest with Phoenix North hadn't gone unnoticed by the population of Ayrith High as I'd hoped. Great.

Sighing I turned away fully and poured all my attention into getting what I needed out of my locker. Hoping that the lingering stares would redirect the longer I ignored their presence. Hiding my head the obnoxious laugh of Camilla Heart sounds, cluing me in as to who broke up mine and Phoenix's staring contest across the corridor before. Seems she's decided to shoot her shot already. My mind chips in but for some reason the words hurt more than they should give who I'm supposed to be. To do. To love - or at least attempt to since after him I'm not sure I'll ever be able to love again. To risk opening myself up to risk experiencing that pain again. The hollowing heartbreak I'm still struggling with on my lowest days, even now. Five years on. Pain makes it hard to breathe for a few seconds since when I look up I can see the happy group at the end of the corridor. A group that was once mine.

A beep sounds and breaks my train of thought but unlike when I read my old messages, this one remains unanswered. Something that makes me aware of Ari's concerned look in my direction. Not ready to see her pitying expression. To attempt to hollowly reassure her that I was ok when I know how much of a lie that is. Would be. Are you ok? That's what her message said but how to respond to that? How do I tell her how much this hurts? Do I tell her? Suddenly her offer to skip sounded more appealing but I know it won't do well in the long run. It would only make it all harder.

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