How To Love ✓

25.

Lucien

"We were escorting an invalid elderly person to the hospital, sir," I annoyedly remarked for the umpteenth time. The Office of Administrations hasn't come to accept my explanation for coming to class later than 9:15 a.m., despite my repeated attempts to do so over the last five minutes. I'm not sure if they made it to Amara yet.

The Dean responded, "No one actually says those things again, Mr. King."

This entire exchange of ideas was absurd. I've been questioned against my will and kept captive in the OA's room for the last hour.Nobody continued to talk. Mr. Joseph gave, our dean, gave me a suspicious look, so I didn't even try to engage in his pointless game of staring.

My only desire was to spend time with Amara. Offer comfort, play with her hair, hold her hand, and make sure she's okay. This was far from that.

No, this was close to upsetting. 

"Would you please stop asking me such stupid questions so I can leave? What if you simply asked Amara Belle about the circumstances?" Mr. Joseph arched one eyebrow at my groan, "She was there too."

"I can guarantee you that Miss Belle will be contacted. Please, the next time you have a lesson, don't be late. I hope I never have to say goodbye to you. Maintain your GPA. He feigns a smile, and I snort inwardly.

"You are one of my best students here," he added, straightening the ugly yellow tie he decided to wear that morning.

Sureeee I was.

I quickly pushed my chair back and gave the board and our dean one final quick glance. The remainder of the statement was delivered in a dejected manner, "I can't promise you anything, but I will promise you this; I am aware that Amara isn't performing well and that she can't manage on her own under certain circumstances." 

Thus, I said confidently, "If there is anyone you think should watch out for her, it should be me."

Mr. Joseph only nodded, not challenging the assertion.I blasted the door shut behind me as I left the room.

I couldn't stop thinking about her.With her, it was a new territory I have never navigated on before.

My instincts battled to keep me from fleeing and to act like the delinquent I was, pushing my innermost feelings and ideas to the back of my mind. Everything was so powerful and so fast.

With her, she made me feel different. Similar to how I had seen both of my parents behave for a long time before their divorce. She was utterly devoted to my father. With a sparkle in her eyes, she gazed at him, and he responded to her affection by treating her as if she were everything. I admired them and yearned for their affection.

I desired a family, the same as the one we all had prior to my father's separation from us. When I was a teenager, all I wanted was a total diversion from the suffering that was building inside of me. I was the subservient and I invested in a dominant. I put so much effort into it all for the sake of suffering both joy and misery, and years ago, that was the only choice I could have made.

Whereas I attempted to conceal my misery behind pleasure, sex, and violence, my mother sought to cover it behind laughs and smiles. 

How someone could find such unique and beautiful love and then give it up in an instant, like my father did to his family, is something I had never understood.

Amara helped me grasp the concept of the four-letter term, as I was previously ignorant of it. She seemed to have healed a deep, dark part of me that I really wanted to be more like.

My own person.

Maybe the reason this scared me so much was because I was afraid of hurting her. She was so fragile that I was frightened to hold her between my fingers and let her fall to the hard, cold ground, breaking into millennia. I didn't feel ordinary around Amara. She increased my feelings. 

 Everything I felt at that moment felt so tall; I felt like I might burst if my lips didn't meet hers. Or if our hearts didn't discover each other and my fingertips didn't reach her sensitive skin.I couldn't recall the last time I felt so uneasy being close to a girl.

I slumped onto my bed as soon as I walked inside my shared room with Rafael, the pillows taking up most of the area. Unavoidably, my thoughts returned to Amara. Her concern for the world around her, rather than just herself, was evident in the way she comforted my feeble self, quivered when we saw the old guy who had no function and showed concern when she noticed the blood streaming out of the deep gashes on my palms. She was something and I wanted her all for myself.

"Oye. ¿Estás bien?" Rafael greeted and walked over to his bed, taking a seat to face me.

(Hey man. Are you okay? in Spanish)

"Escuché lo que pasó, el accidente, todo. Acabo de colgar el teléfono con Syl. Amara está bien," he says and a wash of relief signals through my veins. She was okay and that was all that matters.

(I heard what happened, the accident, everything. I just got off the phone with Syl. Amara is okay in Spanish)

"Entonces, ¿qué está pasando? Has estado actuando de manera hostil desde la fiesta del lago," he eyed me intently for any suspicious actions.

(So, what is happening? You have been acting hostile ever since the lake party in Spanish)

I only shrugged. "Nada."

(Nothing in Spanish)

"Nada?" he questions. Rafael knew me well enough to know when something was bothering me. He was the brother I never had, and I appreciated all that he's taught me, all that he has done for me, and he continued to do that.

I sighed and ran a hand through my messy, oily hair. "Es ella, Amara. Ella ha estado en mi mente desde entonces."

(It's her, Amara. She has been on my mind ever since in Spanish)

"Conoces chicas todo el tiempo. Nunca tienes que pensar en ellos," he chuckled, and I furiously shook my head.

(You meet girls all the time. You never have to think about them in Spanish)

"Este es diferente. No puedo quitármela de la cabeza. Ella me está volviendo loco," I responded, followed by a hefty sigh.

(This one's different. I just can't get her out of my mind. She's driving me crazy in Spanish)

"¿Así que? ¿Qué vas a hacer al respecto?"

(So? What are you going to do about it? in Spanish)

I stared thoughtfully at the white wall. Amara embodied everything I possessed, all my thoughts, and everything I wished would simply vanish so that I would no longer be a source of suffering. She was too good, too flawless. For me, she represented something too extraordinary, too loving and too compassionate.

"Siento que me derrumbo," was my only answer.

(I feel myself caving in Spanish)

"Deja de construir muros pesados alrededor de tu corazón y trata de dejar que alguien los derribe," and with that, I knew she was my wrecking ball.

(Stop constructing heavy built walls around your heart and actually try to let someone break them down in Spanish)

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