Isla and the Happily Ever After: Josh's POV

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Isla.

It's all I was able to think about last night, and it's all I've been able to think about today. Isla. I love the way my tongue hits the back of my teeth when I say her name. 

I've been suffocating all summer. My dad is running for reelection, so it's all my parents can think or talk about. Not to mention they drag me along to every event. I know that I'm my father's son and it's important for me to be there, but everything is so fake and artificial. I have to sit there and pretend that I like my parents.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents. In the way that I have to love them, though. Otherwise I'm completely fine without them and their constant breathing down my neck. 

And then there's the daunting reality that I'm about to face at my last year at School of America in Paris. The reality that all of my friends are gone. They've all left me to finally start their lives after high school. It's been a nightmare I knew I would have to face since I was a freshman. Now that it's here, it doesn't feel real. Even as a junior last year I was in denial. Instead of facing the fact that I was soon going to be all alone, I made mistakes. Despite knowing everything I did wrong, I only know that it's going to be even worse this year. At least I had my friends then. This time, I'm all alone. 

I won't have my best friend Étienne St. Clair, whom we just call St. Clair. My English mate, as he would say. I won't see Meredith Chevalier and her soft smile and her bouncy golden curls. Although I just became friends with Anna Oliphant because she was a new student at SOAP last year, she was a big part of our friend group. She radiates positive energy, which is part of the reason why St. Clair fell in love with her. I miss Rashmi Devi, too. We dated for two years. Not only was she my girlfriend, but we were so close. We were all so close.

Seeing Isla last night was a breathe of fresh air. It's like I was drowning and she reached for me at the surface. She pulled me up from the water. There's a part of me that feels like hope isn't lost. Maybe Isla Martin will be my reason to enjoy my last year at SOAP. 

I want to see her again. Kismet. Was it fate? What are the odds that I was going to run into her? The cafe isn't far from her house at all. I wonder if she goes there a lot. Is there a chance I could go to Kismet and see her again? 

I stare at the drawings I sketched of her while she was asleep last night. I even recreated the image in my mind of her after she was drenched under the scaffolding. Isla didn't even look real. She's everything. Adorable, beautiful, sexy. Is it possible for someone to be so perfect? Isla reminds me of an antique doll. Porcelain skin, thick beautiful hair. Even her style is doll-like. Unique dresses and high heels. Everyone knows she's short, but she wears four-inch heels to make herself taller.

I love her height. 

The first time I talked to her was Freshman year. I always thought she was attractive, but it caught my eye that she was reading Joann Sfar in the cafeteria. I had to do a double-take. It's not every day that you see a girl who looks like Isla, reading comics. Not that pretty girls can't read that. It's just uncommon. I tried to make conversation with her that day about it, but she clearly didn't want to talk to me. It was basically just me asking a ton of questions, and her staring at me with a blank expression. Just thinking about it makes me cringe from embarrassment. 

During our sophomore year, Isla and I were partnered in English class to create a fake newspaper article. Isla was shaking her pen like crazy for whatever reason while were sitting together, and said pen somehow flew into my forehead. Her face was bright red and she couldn't stop apologizing. For whatever reason, I was the one who felt more humiliated by the entire thing.

I was always interested in her. My interest grew from freshman year into sophomore year, but Isla was suddenly dating Kurt. Then I met Rashmi. I fell in love. Did I? Sometimes I wonder if I really loved her. Towards the end we fought non-stop and the relationship was soon a lost cause. I wasn't sad. I was just grasping for some sort of meaning in my life, because I knew that it would all be gone. I cherish Rashmi, though. She was my first love. 

My thoughts begin to stray back towards the one thing that I've dreaded facing since freshman year: I'm all alone. I can feel myself sinking back into the water. I don't want to drown this year. I want to enjoy it. I didn't appreciate junior year enough. Yes, I knew I was going to be alone, yet I didn't spend enough time with my friends. It's too late. 

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. 11:55. Is there a chance that she'll be there? Isla must go there all of the time right? Since it's right by her house? I scramble for my backpack, shoving my sketchbook inside. I take it everywhere. I'll never know if I see something and want to document the moment onto a piece of paper with pen. 

I race out of my room. This is the first time all summer I've ever been motivated to do anything other than art. I'm about to walk out of my parent's extravagant front door, when I'm stopped by my mother. 

Shit.

"Where are you going at this hour?" She asks, arm's crossed over her silk robe.

"The cafe again. Kismet? I was there last night. I figured I would look at college stuff on my computer. I just have to do something somewhere besides my room, you know?" I lie. 

She narrows her eyes at me, trying to decide if I'm being truthful. She gives in. "Fine. I want you home at a reasonable time. You need to start packing for DC tomorrow." 

Our family is leaving for Washington DC in two days. I'll be stuck in the state's capital until Fall. I'll be all alone there. I mean, I'm alone here in the city, but I'll be with all of my parent's political friends. Nor will I be in the same city as Isla. As if I'll even see her again before we go back to school. 

"I know. Thank you." 

As I approach Kismet, my insides begin to burn. I'm an idiot. This was a stupid idea. Why would she be here again? I'm sure she's resting because she just had her wisdom teeth removed yesterday morning. It always hurts worse the next day. She's probably in her bed right now, eating chicken noodle soup and watching TV, not even thinking about me---

I glance through the window, and there she is. I see her long fiery red hair, which is cascading down her back. Today she's wearing a navy blue sundress with platform sandals. I want to touch her creamy skin. I'm coming up to the surface again, and her freckled arm is there to grab me and pull me up--

I realize she isn't alone. She's with Kurt. I'm dragged back to the bottom of the water. I internally curse at myself. I'm an idiot. Why did I even come here? Of course she goes here with her boyfriend. Kurt Bacon would most-likely kick my ass too if he knew I was hitting on his almost- -two-year relationship with his girlfriend. When Kurt came to SOAP as a freshman our sophomore year, Isla and him were inseparable immediately. I think that Kurt has autism. No, I'm almost positive he does. It makes my heart ache even more to know Isla is a good human-being. I know the popular assholes at SOAP pick on him. Just because he doesn't act like everyone else he's automatically a target? I've only spoken to him a few times. He seems like a good guy. 

It doesn't keep me from resenting him, though. The last ounce of hope I had of having a person to be around next year is gone. 

I leave in two days, and I won't be seeing her until September. As if any of it matters anyways.