Ephemeral

Mercedes Adams

Her silvery laugh rang in my ears and after seventeen months, I got a taste of heaven. Pure bliss. However, it also unleashed the painful memories I had tried so hard to keep at bay. They came rushing, tumbling, attacking.

Our first encounter at Cafe' Aroma. Two teenagers clad in coffee stained shirts, ready to rip out each other's throat.

Ms Greene forcing us to be lab partners and the Chemistry Lab Fiasco that followed: broken burettes, spilled chemicals, toxic gases. Like metaphors for us - broken hearts, spilled words, toxic feelings.

That once when we both landed the same job and she threw a fit arguing how I wasn't "worthy of the post" and me giving up on the job. Did she actually think that her petty little argument persuaded me? No way; her words never made any sense. It was because I knew that I would go insane if I stood there one second longer trying to suppress my overwhelming urge to shut her up by crashing my mouth on hers.

Angela's birthday. I distinctly remember getting my breath knocked out when she descended the stairs in that blood red dress clinging to her slender figure, leaving almost nothing to imagination. I had wanted to scream profanities at her. Slut, whore, attention-seeker, disgrace, immoral. These words were swimming around in my mind but all that left my mouth was a breathless, "Holy Shit,
Aphrodite." I loathed myself for fancying her that night. Didn't I hate that girl and her guts?

The most embarrassing moment of my life when she defeated me at horse riding. Was there anything this girl wasn't excellent at? Not only did she wound my ego beyond repair, I lost a hundred bucks too.

Her dad's death anniversary. I knew it was so wrong, so absolutely low of me to give in to her desire. She wanted to dissolve the pain. She longed to feel emotionless. We were just two tired souls, lost and agonised, trying to find solace in each other. She hated me and I hated her and so we went ahead. Ambivalence clouded my mind the next day: euphoria and self-hatred fought for dominance inside me. The night was heaven, her body was heaven, her moans and cries were heaven. Then why did I feel like hell for using her that way?

The accident that sent her into a month-long coma. It was the first time I saw her and didn't see her scowling back at me. Only in the abscene of all the toxicity and poison between us, I understood. I knew in that moment that people like her could be either hated with passion or loved insanely. There was no in-between. And since I had failed completely in hating her, I decided to do the next best thing: I fell in love with Mercedes Adams.

Standing boldy like the queen she always was, Mercedes was wrapped in her fiance's arms, speaking to people and commanding the attention of the entire party. It took every ounce of my will power and determination not to pounce on that bastard the moment his filthy lips made contact with her collarbone.

But who was I kidding?

I couldn't ignore the scene. This was Mercedes: the girl who was invincible, who could defeat people at their own games, who knew how to make someone surrender to her, who excelled at whatever she did and who had my heart and soul. The only thing she sucked at was loving. Especially loving herself. So in that moment the onslaught of emotions - hatred, lust, anger, betrayal, regret and love - expelled my breath in a traumatic hiss, when the bastard she proclaimed to love ran his fingers down the arm of another girl.

She did nothing as he began flirting blatantly in front of her, placing a hand on someone else's arm and smiling like the girl wearing his ring didn't exist. How could he ignore the treasure standing right next to him? No one else could even compare.

I saw them speak quietly, his face irritated and cold. Her eyes dimmed as she tried to appear calm, but I knew her better. She was trying to stop herself from crying. I think that was the moment, the moment I lost it.

I lost the ability to think, to rationalise, to make logic. I would never understand my next actions, but I found myself striding over to the couple and yanking her from the man she clung to.

Someone would just have to teach her the difference between romance and possession, and if I had to be the one to do it, so be it.

Her baby blues went wide with surprise and shock. Her lips parted, no doubt to shout profanities and insults like always.

"You deserve better than him," I murmured before she could get a single word out. And before her mouth could even close, I did something I promised I'd never dare to do again. Something I knew I'd regret immensely. But who cared at that moment, because the instance my lips met hers I wasn't in this world anymore.

I was in paradise, and I was irrevocably and endlessly in love with Mercedes Ivy Adams.

All over again.