Sour Sweet Love

Chapter Sixteen

               It was yet another infamous day in the life of Avery Wilson and I was headed straight for Art class—trouble, in order words; because Declan's presence was guaranteed. 

Okay Avery. You must face him, I told myself. He didn't see you blow your snots or anything. You just know that he offered a promise ring from your best friend. Right now, just be calm, and pretend like nothing ever happened. Forget the fact that you're totally into him, and try not to remember the fact that he totally turns you on. Okay? 

Did he ever feel for me too?

Ugh.

I entered the classroom silently. I had gotten some new colors for the painting aspect that we could have done in class. I refused to bring in my real piece until the day o our presentation; the paint Mr. Camia provided was limited, and we needed more color.

Speaking of color, where was Declan?

I quickly made my way towards our table, placing the paint on the desk as I sat down. My eyes wandered to Joey who was immersed in her project and a conversation with her partner.

I toyed with the colors to see what different combinations could produce as I awaited Declan's arrival. It was fourteen minutes into the class that a breathless figure arrived by the door; I had counted out of boredom. "Mr. Andrews," Mr. Camia addressed. "Would you please care you explain why you're—" He glanced at his watch. "—fourteen minutes late for class?" 

"I'm sorry, sir," Declan said huskily. He carried the eyes of someone who had left his heart elsewhere. "It won't happen again." 

"Too right it won't happen again. Now, please, go to your seat and help Miss. Wilson. Making her do all the work. Move along." 

I felt my cheeks flush as Declan took the seat across from me, removing his bag from his shoulder. The frown that had plastered his face was replaced by a grin, however weak. "Making you do all the work? More like the total opposite," he said wearily, releasing a chuckle.

I laughed along and I wondered why. "I've been contributing," I said in my defense. "You just haven't seen it yet."

"How's that going?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Good."

"Do anything yet?"

"Actually," I drawled, biting my lip. "I'm almost done, Declan."

He let his shock show. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah, really. I like it—art."

"I've never been much of an artist," he stated softly. I wanted to tell him that he was—that despite his frequent remarks and sarcastic offerings, he spoke in ways that were memorable. He was an artist with his words, forming them with the expertise that made them cling onto your mind. He was an artist because he could make you feel insane with thoughts of him.

"But you are," I told him. "Your mind feels like an art piece, Declan."

He did not hide his shock as his eyes then met mine. "Really?"

I nodded again, this time in assurance. "Really."

It was funny that we were like this—that we could go from being utterly spiteful one moment to friendly in another. It was like we were two separate entities that converged once every blue moon, but that feeling of familiarity and bliss in that one fleeting experience was a reparation for any dismay the relationship had caused in the past. 

Declan hesitated then again before he speaking up. "Avery?" he said, reluctance and caution etched onto his tone.

"Hmm?"

"Liam," he began solemnly. "He cheated on you, right?" 

 I felt my smile convulsing into an involuntary glower. I laughed in order to force back the tears that were already forming. I did not know why I felt like crying. Liam was over. He was the past. Here I was: I was my own present.

"You know, he really wants you back. He speaks of you."

"He was telling me that you spoke of me too," I said in an accusatory tone.

"Just spreading the worst gossip," he retorted lightly.

I laughed shortly. "Huh."

"Maybe you should talk to him though. Communication is key, you know. I hear him sometimes with Razor. He's always saying how much he misses you—"

"I thought you didn't believe in love, Declan," I interjected. "You're fooling me now."

He shook is head. "I don't. Maybe I do. I just—" He was interrupted by the shrill cacophony of the bell. He gave me a soft smile, ending his sentence without completing it.

"You just what?" 

"Nothing," he replied.

I dropped the subject, letting the conversation dwindle. 

We cleaned up quickly, placing the supplies and our projects—what we had of it—on the back sanctuary. Declan had a tendency to leave without goodbyes. When I slung my backpack over my shoulders and headed towards the door, he was already gone.

I sauntered towards the bathroom. Upon reaching, I stood before the mirror, listening to my sporadic breathing. A reflection of a frowning girl stared back at me. How could Liam still like her? She was no different than the others. She was cynical. She was untrusting. She was lonely—had a heart of stone. She'd had enough.

I washed my hands, fixed my makeup, and exited through the door to my locker. I had to stuff the notebooks that I no longer needed today into my locker. As I opened it, something dropped out, swirling in a blur of white onto the floor. I bended down and picked it up. It was a note. Poetry. It was from Liam.

Hey Avery. Declan helped me write it, but don't go falling for him, okay?

I read the poem with an open mind. It was certainly sincere and by the end of it, my heart was brimming with possibilities. I wanted nothing more than to forget these years that had come before wherein Liam and I were nothing. I wanted us to become something. But then I wondered how we could be anything after everything.

After the lies and after the torturous phase during which I had believed myself unworthy of anyone's love—how could I repeat it all over again? Because that was what forgiveness entailed. It meant I excused Liam's wrongdoings. It meant that I was giving him the possibility to do it all over again.

He ended the poem with a Meet me at the library after school. Please? —Liam.

I took in a deep breath and on my way to my next class, tossed the note into the garbage. I was already in so much trouble with Declan. I didn't want to be in even more trouble by getting involved with Liam. I would just get my heart broken. Again.