Sweet Revenge

Beautiful

I was sat cross-legged on my bed my fingers poised above my lap-top. I bit my lip nervously as I tried to decide what to do, whether or not to press enter. I'd been sitting there for about half an hour, trying to decide whether it was a good idea to stalk Elliot Harris' Facebook page. I rolled my eyes at myself and shook my head. Of course it wasn't a good idea. But I was desperate to see what his life had been like in America, since he'd left me. Well, since he'd escaped me. Taking a deep breath I fired up the search engine and had found Elliot's profile within seconds. His profile photo was of three boys, all suited up in American football uniforms. My eyes sought out Elliot's face, barely registering the other boys except to notice they were both fairly handsome. Elliot stole the picture though, his head was thrown back in a laugh, his white teeth flashing in the sun, his tanned face streaked with mud and grime. Despite how rough he looked with the dirt streaking his face and even a few scrapes and bruises, he looked so happy and confident that he glowed. In fact, the rough nature of the small cuts and faint bruises on his jaw line had an oddly...hot effect. I flushed and shook my head at the direction my thoughts had taken. If he ever suspected I found him attractive he'd no doubt be disgusted. I scrolled through a few more of his pictures, noting that the same two boys from his profile picture were featured in a lot of the photos. As was a girl. She was petite, tiny and delicate in a way I never could be with my long limbs. She reminded me a lot of a sexy secretary, her pin straight black hair was always pulled back in a low pony tail, and she wore stylish office-type glasses. There were a lot of pictures of the two of them together. I discovered from the comments that she was called Annabeth. In one of the pictures, Elliot had Annabeth on his lap, cuddling her as she snuggled into him. He was covered in streaks of paint for some reason, and he also had glasses on. I smiled faintly as I took in the sight of Elliot with his glasses on, remembering the thick, dorky pair he used to wear when he was little. He looked quite different wearing glasses now, sexy and sophisticated, like a foxy professor. I frowned at the thought that together he and Annabeth looked like a modelling campaign for spec-savers. As I searched deeper and deeper into his photos, I gained a strong impression of his life. From the looks of it, it had been pretty great ever since he moved six years ago. Though there was little activity suggesting a social life when he first moved, but after a few months his profile started filling with pictures people had taken with him, at parties, football games and...art shows? There were a whole load of pictures of Elliot either covered in paint, or walking around galleries, usually hand in hand with Annabeth. Did this mean Elliot had perused his artistic streak?

Nine Years Ago
I stared at myself, lips twisted unhappily as I analysed my reflection. I'd been happy with my appearance when I'd set off for school this morning, but I'd overheard Aria telling Melody that I was weirdly tall and bony. I probably would have brushed it off, Melody and Aria said mean things all the time, except I know it's true. I was taller and thinner than all of the other girls and boys in my year. I hated feeling so awkward, large and gangly like an ugly baby giraffe. I heard the approach of footsteps and hurriedly wiped the tears from my cheeks. I kept my head down as I quickly darted from the bathroom, I wanted to hide my tear-streaked face from anyone who might see me, which turns out to be exactly why I didn't see where I was going. I collided with someone walking around the corner and we both jolt back a couple of steps. My panicked eyes darted up and widened as they met a pair of surprised silver-grey irises. I flushed in shame, and embarrassment that the boy I was so often unkind and cruel to was seeing me so vulnerable. I slipped past Elliot my gaze focused on the floor and quickly slipped through the courtyard and behind the hedge at the end. It was my secret spot to hide away when I felt sad or mad or just didn't want to be around the other girls. I suppose I went there a lot. I was sitting in the small spot, errantly drawing shapes with twigs in the dirt when the hedge started to rustle. I looked up eyes wide, half expecting Melody or Aria to burst through and start taunting me, calling me a weirdo for hiding down there in the dirt. But it wasn't. Elliot stood there, fiddling with the straps of his school bag, casting me quick glances, but not watching me for too long as if he was afraid to provoke me. I sighed and turned my face away from him.
"What do you want Elliot?" I asked, sounding surly and childish to even my own naive ears. Elliot hesitated and sat down cautiously. His small hands started restlessly plucking the grass from the ground around him, a nervous tick. I knew I should say something mean to him like I usually would when the other girls were there, snap something cruel to make him leave me alone. But I was tired, and I didn't have the energy to fake negative emotions towards him. So instead we sat there silently, while I doodled in the dirt with my stick, and he methodically plucked the grass. I was sure the small patch would be completely bare of vegetation when he left. After around ten minutes he finally spoke, but his voice was so quiet I barely heard him. "Why are you sad?" He asked innocently, his cheeks flushing as he spoke. I sighed and shrugged. "Why do you care anyway? We aren't friends." I said nastily. He flushed crimson, his solemn grey eyes turning embarrassed as he averted his gaze from me to the ground. "I know that." He said, his voice cracking. I tried to ignore and push down the feeling of guilt that swamped me immediately. I bit my lip, on the verge of apologising, but then realised there'd be no point. I sighed again and propped my head on my hand. I knew I was being dramatic and over emotional, but it was hard to look so different to everyone else. It had really been getting to me lately. I realised with surprise that I was actually glad for Elliot's presence. It felt nice to be with someone content just to sit in silence and not judge me. It was another five minutes before Elliot gained the courage to speak again.
"I...I heard what all the girls have been saying about you." He blurted quickly. I turned my gaze on him in surprise and anger and he flinched, quickly looking away. I frowned, feeling tears prick my eyes again. I know I shouldn't be surprised, I knew they were all gossiping about my appearance but it still stings to hear about it from Elliot of all people.
"I just wanted you t-to know t-that they're just...they're just jealous." He stammered out quickly, looking so flustered I thought he might faint. I stared at him for a while as I analysed his unexpected words, but this seemed to make him extremely uncomfortable, as he blushed and fidgeted all the more. He crammed a hand inside his school bag and wrenched out a small note book. He flipped though it with shaking fingers before pulling out a lone page and practically flinging it towards me in his haste to leave.
"Just...here." He said awkwardly, looking embarrassed and annoyed with himself as he scrambled up and disappeared behind the hedge, leaving me to my solitude. I hesitated before slowly picking up the page. It was me. He'd sketched my likeness in a rough, but beautiful drawing. His talent was raw and undoubtedly impressive, but what really amazed me was the way he'd drawn me. I'd always been cruel to him, never giving him a kind word and yet he'd sketched me with obvious care and attention...as if he found me beautiful.

As I remembered that day I felt self disgust rise up at how I'd treated him. I hated that spoiled, selfish little girl I used to be, that cared so much what everyone else thought, the girl that was never true to herself and who hurt those who didn't deserve it. Thank god she was gone for good. But sadly, it seemed like the kind, soft spoken Elliot I had known was gone too, or at least so it seemed. I'd seen no trace of the gentle, kind boy who used to secretly draw me, the girl who tormented him, and follow me when he thought I was sad. If that boys incredible soul is gone, it'd be a tragedy. Or maybe, he's just learned to choose who to share his soul with. Maybe he's learned not to show it to heartless little girls who would only mistreat it. Maybe he shares it with his American friends, or the mysterious Annabeth.
As I closed my laptop and braided my hair back, I resolved to at least try and show Elliot the extent of my remorse, to show him I really have changed. I know that after everything I should just leave him alone, but I have the most terrifying feeling that I will never be able to.