Hello, Goodbye

21: Saxon

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Walking away from her, he feels regret rise up in his stomach. And anger at himself. He sets his jaw, and is unsure as to where he is walking. His first class is in the other direction, where Grace, he imagines, is staring after him, her eyes round, brown, and full of determination, confusion and annoyance.

It smells beautiful outside, like flowers, freshly cut grass and sunshine. He sits himself on the bench near the entrance to the school, taking it all in. He is slouched over, arms still crossed over his grey t-shirt. He unfolds them and sits up. The school garden is blossoming with flowers of all spectacular colours, nice and bright. The grass is crunching beneath people’s feet and the sound of buzzing bees is faint but there.

People slowly trickle inside, leaving only a few stragglers outside, including himself. He keeps on thinking that Grace will be in there, waiting for him. But she doesn’t need him now that she has Anthony back. She doesn’t need Saxon anymore because all he was and, possibly, could’ve ever been – was her comforter. Not her boyfriend, not her best friend, not the most trustworthy person she knew – just someone to cuddle with when she was feeling down.

He kicks up the dirt beneath his feet in annoyance and anger. He stands, brushing off the non-existent dirt from his pants. He walks inside, shoving his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, which hang dangerously low from his hips. He waves at Eliza, the first recognisable face he sees. She shoots him a conceited smile, which leaves him curious and in a B-line towards her.

“What was that?” She stares innocently at him, slender eyebrows arched and long eyelashes batting. She still has her smug smile on her lips, but toned down slightly as he stares at her. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Why’d you wave at me like that?” she shoots back.

“It was just a wave, Eliza, don’t get so ahead of yourself. And, besides, where’s James? Isn’t he usually staring at you with big, adoring eyes, oh so in love with you?” A flash of hurt appears in the girl’s eyes for a moment. She shies away from Saxon, only by a little bit – but enough to be visible. “Eliza?” he asks, softening his voice.

“It’s – it’s nothing. We broke up. Well, I broke up with him but that doesn’t matter because we’re not Eliza and Jams anymore.” She sounds sad, helpless and broken. Her sneer is gone, a tight line in replacement of it.

“Why are you so torn up about it, then?” he questions, knowing full well how rude the question must seem.

“Because,” she snaps, “of the way you said it. Like all he ever did was love me, and care about me and stare at me with those eyes. Don’t remind me of what I’ve lost, stupid boy. What about Grace, huh? Where’s your new lover?” She says it harshly but there’s still a sadness and brokenness in her eyes which stops Saxon from retorting horribly.

“She’s at class, which is where I should be,” he states simply.

“Don’t take her for granted, Saxon, she could be easily lost,” warns Eliza. “Though, I suppose, you already know that.” She tosses her hair to one side and smiles at him, a smile shadowed with pain. She waves, her fingers wiggling, and struts away casually, her hair bouncing.

“Where is she?” Saxon asks Zeya for the fifth time, growing more and more impatient. He is tapping his foot against the floor of the cafeteria, his leg shaking. He balances one hand on the other leg, the one frozen in place, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

“Maybe she was held up in class, or something. Stop worrying, Saxon. Or, maybe, she really listened to you – as stupid as that would be – and she’s gone to sort out her feelings before she comes to see you.” Zeya speaks with amusement and a smile on her face.