We Are Tidal

Chapter Thirty-Two - Forgiveness

(Header today is this weird but cute scene from Clueless. A lot of old 90s movies don't age too well, but I still love them a lot and thought this was worth including!)

Chapter Thirty-Two - Forgiveness

"The wedding is that soon?" I say, struggling to hide my shock from Gabe, as we stretch in the dance studio before class starts.

After our trip to meet Helena, Art had told me that his father had broken the news to them that Helena and he were set to be married the following month, not wanting to wait. 

Gabe rolls his eyes as he grabs a foam roller from the supply in the corner. 

"Honestly, it's a little ridiculous, but we're trying to be supportive," Gabe answers, shrugging. 

His dark hair falls over his eyes for a moment. When he pushes his hair out of his eyes and his face contorts into a pained expression as he rolls out his hamstrings, I realise that Gabe is perhaps the only Heaver that resembles their mother, Maria. Art's strong jawline and the twins' high cheekbones are nearly identical to their father. 

"Are you okay with it?" I ask. I asked Art this very question as we lay in bed last night, the darkness flooding in. He had simply said that he could face it if I would go to the wedding with him. Even though I have been in Arthur Heaver's life for many years at this stage, my cheeks flooded with pleasure that he would say that. 

Gabe shrugs again but before he can say anymore, the door of the dance studio opens, and our coach, Caroline, strides. 

"Right, up and at 'em, time to get this lyrical piece down to the last eight counts," She calls, already setting up the music from her Spotify account. Like the good dance soldiers we are, Gabe and I leap to our feet, rolling out our wrists and getting ready to move. 

*

Rehearsals went pretty smoothly, despite the fact that today I didn't seem to be able to comfortably do my switch leap and Caroline seemed disappointed. Not quite as disappointed as she was when I jokingly called her Abbey Lee Miller. If looks could kill, Gabe would be dancing alone at Nationals.  

Gabe and I emerge into the sharp wintery air, already exciting for our ritual of going to a drive-thru Starbucks. 

"God, I need a shower," Gabe says, sniffing his t-shirt and wincing. "That is ripe." 

I pretend to gag and Gabe moves to shove me sideways as we approach the campus lawn, but we are immediately distracted by the crowd gathering, shouting and chanting. 

"Oh fuck," Gabe whispers under his breath, his mind seeming to piece the truth together before I did. However, it doesn't take me long. A single scanning glance from the top of the steps and I see what's happening. 

Damien is at the centre of the crowd of people; all-male, all-white as they chant something. When he turns around, I see that his nose is still taped together from when it collided with my knee. Suddenly, the bruise on my knee doesn't seem to hurt so bad after all. 

Gabe takes a hold of my elbow when he spies what they are gathered around. Being nearly a foot taller than me it was easier for him to see over the heads of the gathered student. I tug my arm free of Gabe's grip and walk toward the crowd in a trance. Behind me, I can hear Gabe talking on the phone with someone, telling them to come here now. Art, maybe? I don't care, the very world is whirling in my ears, drowning out everything but the words burned onto the lawn grass, directly in front of the dance studio. 

Damien and his merry band of brothers move back as I approach, some with widening smiles, others looking horrified to see me here. 

Lawless slut.

The words were scorched into the earth, letters jagged and clumsily done, but still all-too-legible. Clinically, I realise that they didn't use my first name and there's nothing I can do about this. 

Syllable-by-syllable sounds enter my brain once more. The words of their chant. Well, just one word. Whore, whore, whore. Damien stands in front of me, with the words between us, simply staring with his stupid broken nose. 

This time, my eyes do not fill with tears. This time, when I feel Art join me at my side, his brothers and my friends behind us, I hold out a hand to stop him confronting Damien. This time I have been hurt, but I take slowly steadying steps forward. I am done with having any points to prove, I have no words worthy of Damien. When I stand before him and look in his dark eyes, the moments that were just ours, heated sex, and even more heated arguments, drugs and alcohol, pass between us once more. And I realise, I no longer want them. 

Slowly, I reach up a hand, and Damien flinches, a reaction that gets him no amount of laughs from his friends. Instead, I put my hand on his chest, right above his heart. Despite his expressionless face, his heart is thundering like a racehorse. I smile slightly at this, but waste no time and glance back up at Damien and offering him and myself the only thing I can.

"I forgive you." 

Turning on my heels, I find Willow ready to slip a welcome hand into mine and Art there to hold my other. Ava and Nicole do not take the high road and hold up their middle fingers to Damien and his friends. Kit walks beside Willow, a hand in hers, and Art and Gabe bring up the rear. Gabe places a hand on my shoulder as we walk, squeezing me gently and I understand what they are saying; we are here. We are all here for you. 

A/N: 

Hello friends, 

It sounds bizarre to say that 'We Are Tidal' is approaching its natural end (although it may not be the end for these characters!), especially when uploading weekly once felt like a terrifying task! Thank you for the continued support, even if you read one chapter or are a silent reader, I'm so grateful. 

Love, Jens x