Pink Skies

PART 19

PART 19

            Fatima walks into my room on Sunday, a hurricane of excitement and determination. The afternoon sun filters in through the blinds to trace golden lines on my white bed spread, and she leans forward against my bed, smile slow and sly, golden necklace dangling from her obscured neck.

            “So I talked to that fucktard,” she begins casually, and I don’t even attempt asking how she’s talking to him. “It was really hard, though, because I mean, God, is that his real eye color?”

            “I knooooow, right?” I flop down on my bed, pushing the homework I had been doing away with my feet. As I turn my face into the pillow and sigh—I’ve been doing that a lot lately, sighing—Fatima walks around the bed to sit down next to me, back against the foot post, her socked feet near my chest. Crinkling my nose, I make a face at her and she smirks.

             “Anyway, so I talked to him, and man, Vinnie, I think you should talk to him. It’s not all fucked up as you think it is.”

            “What?”

Fatima raises her eyebrows in a challenging manner at me.

            “He was flirting with me and he had a girlfriend!” I narrow my eyes and she laughs a little.

            “Well, I mean, if you haven’t noticed, he kinda flirts with everyone. He’s just a flirt. I doubt he can help it. Amusing, actually,” Fatima laughs a little bit and I smack her leg. She flips it up and rests it on my stomach and I wrinkle up my nose for the second time in the last three minutes. “Anyway, yeah, it was kinda a dick move on his part—like, a really dick move—but I think you should hear him out.”

            “Never. I hate him.”

I nearly laugh at my pathetic self. When had I sunk this low, to sulk over what could have maybe been a cutesy love story?

            “Well, that’s a lie. Anyway, not like you have much of a choice.”

            “What?”

Raising her index finger, Fatima gets off my bed and opens my door, peeking out on the other side, to what I don’t know. But then I yelp and sit straight up in bed, scrambling to pull the blanket over me, to no avail, because there he is, just standing in the doorjamb, and his smile is an apologetic one, one that I have never seen.

             “Bye, Loser.” Snickering, Fatima scurries to the door again, and sends some crude hip thrusts in my direction. I glare at her and with a triumphant laugh, she shuts it (but not before making a few kissy faces at me), leaving me alone with Isaac in my room. My heart pounds a tattoo into my chest.

            He swallows and I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down. Isaac’s eyes land on the photograph stack next to me. “Did you like them?”

            I nod. “You’re really good.”

            “And you’re really pr—” he cuts himself off, but I know what he was about to say. He shuts his eyes and he suddenly looks so tired in that second. Isaac runs a hand through his hair and lets out a whoosh of air.

            I’m angry again, and I don’t even try to hide it. “What the hell, Isaac?” He doesn’t look surprised at my outburst. “You are the the reason for why dads being so protective over their girls around boys is a stereotype. You can’t fucking do that! You can’t fucking flirt with me when you have a fucking girlfriend! It’s not fair!”

            “You think I don’t know that?” he snaps suddenly and my eyes widen.

            “Obviously not! I mean, it was what you were doing, you know.”

            Shutting his eyes, he releases a slow breath, before looking at me again. His eyes are soft. “Vincent, I like you! But I’m so afraid of being alone and I had a girlfriend when I met you. She wasn’t even close to serious, but she was someone, and then I met you and you came every day and I didn’t even ask you to, and I swear to you, I was going to break up with her that day so I could kiss you without being the bad guy, even just hold your hand or something, and I couldn’t kiss you when I have a girlfriend!”

            “You could have told me, warned me! I mean, I don’t know what you call it, but in my world, that’s known as leading someone on.”

            “I know. I know I fucked up, I know. And I am so sorry. Believe me when I say that I was going to break up with her that day,” he says again and I raise my eyebrows because I finally actually hear what he’s said.

            “What?” My voice cracks and I pinch my leg under the sheets.

            “I was going to show you the photos, and then go to my girlfriend’s house to break up with her.”

            “You might want to work a bit more on your scheduling,” I roll my eyes and his lip quirks up again the slightest bit. He doesn’t say anything and I push out the three words he and I both know I’m dying to say. “And did you?”

            “No.”

            “Oh.”

It feels as if somebody has thrown three bricks at my stomach and then punched it about one hundred and eleven times.

            “But I went the next day. I broke up with her.”

            “Oh.”

And then it’s gone just as fast.

            “And I just want you to forgive me.”

            “It takes time, Isaac.”

I nearly smile at now strong my voice comes out and I can almost hear Fatima cheering.

            “Take all the time you need, I just need it to happen,” he laughs a cute little laugh and I force myself to maintain my indifferent expression even though I’m itching to smile back. Actually, I’m itching to pull the boy’s face to mine and kiss the shit out of it, but it’s an intoxicating feeling, having a voice that is not wavering. Almost as intoxicating as Isaac. 

// TOMORROW IS MY LAST DAY FOR EXAMS YES YES YES YES

tell me what you thought! is this how you were imagining them seeing each other again? i love you.

- nova. //