by Ali Merci
School was over now, but he was still nowhere to be seen, and that twisted her stomach into an anxious knot.
“He’s not here,” a familiar voice said from behind her, and Isla felt her blood begin to boil at the sound, the blind rage taking over whatever worry she felt for Asa.
She turned around, narrowing her eyes at Willa. “Did it sound like I was talking to you?”
Annoyance flashed across the other girl’s eyes and her lips curled into a grimace. “Would it kill you to let go of your pride for one second?”
“Letting go of my pride?” Isla raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “No, that wouldn’t kill me. But being forced to make conversation with you might.”
Willa swore under her breath. “I don’t need to put up with this shit,” she muttered. “Listen, I couldn’t give two hoots about you, but I happen to be fond of Asa. Considering he spent the afternoon in the principal’s office along with his parents and that I saw him leave earlier, I figured he could use his best friend and wanted to tell you about it. But seeing the complete bitch you’re being right now, he actually should be better off without you.”
“You don’t know me.” Isla seethed.
“And I don’t want to. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have people I actually care about to get back to.”
“Wait,” Isla begrudgingly called out, her tongue tasting bitter at having to prolong this conversation.
Willa stopped walking away and turned around, snorting. “What?”
“Where’s Carmen? I need—”
“No,” she began shaking her head, her tone adamant. “Hell no.”
Isla’s eyes turned into slits, “What do you mean no?”
“I mean, no, I’m not telling you where to find her,” Willa spat. “I have no idea what the hell went down between you and Asa that day, but I could see how shaken up about it he was. And this is the guy who’s supposed to be your best friend. Carmen’s my friend, and I’ll be damned if I let you put her through that kind of shit.”
“I’m not going to do anything to her,” Isla snapped, her patience hanging by a thread and her palms curling into fists.
“Yeah.” Willa scoffed. “Is that what you told yourself when you befriended Asa? That you weren’t going to hurt him?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You’re a goddamn train wreck, Isla. People like you do nothing but hurt all those around you, and I won’t allow Carmen to be one of those people. So if you want to find her, do it yourself. I won’t be one of the reasons you get more involved in her life.”
Isla’s lips curled upwards into a menacing smile, calculating Willa’s weaknesses and aiming to hit her right there. “Is that why you had to move away from your old school and come here? Your old friends felt smothered by all your overprotective tendencies?”
“Maybe I’m overprotective about the people I care about, Isla,” Willa said seriously. “And yeah, maybe I suffocate them sometimes. But at least I have friends. And I think that says a lot.”
The words were a punch to Isla’s gut which caused her breathing to falter as she watched the other girl walk away.
Isla had always been the one with her finger on the trigger, the one with the power to bring someone else to their knees. But Willa had managed to send bullets flying into her skin, and Isla loathed being at the mercy of someone else’s words. It brought back memories she’d rather keep buried at the darkest pits of her mind.
Memories of when she was the one on the receiving end of cruel whispers and harsh judgments, until she had eventually turned all that pain into power. She’d built a fortress around her and didn’t think twice about pricking someone with her thorns before they got close enough to do any more damage to her already fractured heart.
When you were a blonde with blue eyes who liked wearing crop tops and shorts, nothing else mattered. If the world made up its mind that you were a slut, then that was what you were. Isla wasn’t stupid enough to try changing people’s perspective of her. Instead she learnt how to turn her heart to steel and her tongue into a weapon. And it worked.
It worked until it didn’t, and she could feel her grip on reality slowly slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. Because she’d grown so accustomed to letting herself spit poison from her mouth instead of spilling poetry that she no longer knew how to utter words that weren’t cruel. She’d ripped too many hearts to shreds in order to safeguard her own that she gradually forgot how to differentiate between the ones she wanted to break and the ones she wanted to protect.
Asa had never belonged to the list of people she permitted herself to break.
No, Isla had never meant to break her best friend. She was supposed to be the one who crushed whoever dared cause him pain, but had instead ended up being the one who pulled the trigger.
She was just so, so used to wearing a façade that she now couldn’t separate herself from who she wanted to be to who she let the world morph her into. And if that wasn’t proof of her behaviour heading towards a downward spiral, she didn’t know what was.
After all, there was only so long someone could go on wearing a mask before it either started slipping off or, worse, becoming a part of their identity.
•••
Isla had given up looking for Carmen, assuming she’d already left, and started to drive away from the school when she spotted her walking a few feet away.
She let her car pick up speed, before pulling up right next to her with screeching wheels and a loud honk.
Carmen jumped, her eyes widening from being startled, before her posture relaxed when she realised it was only Isla.
“Get in.” Isla gestured, her voice drifting through the open window as she leaned across the seats to open the door.
“Um, no,” Carmen quickly said, shaking her head. “I like walking.”
Isla blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” She offered a small smile.
“You’re upset with me because of Asa,” Isla accused her, knowing that it wasn’t true but using her manipulative skills to guilt-trip Carmen into accepting the lift. She felt bad doing it, but as much as she liked Carmen, she cared about Asa more. And if taking advantage of Carmen’s compassionate nature was the only way to learn how Asa was doing, then she wasn’t going to apologise for it. There was another way, a part of her knew. She could always just go to Asa and check on him herself. But Isla Martin was a proud person, and it was that very pride that would be her downfall one day.
“Of course not!” Carmen exclaimed, looking shocked at the blunt accusation. “I’m not going to pick sides in a fight that I wasn’t even a part of.”
“Why won’t you get in then?” Isla pulled her brows together, trying to appear as if she was troubled and hurt by Carmen’s actions.
“I just… Never mind.” She sighed heavily and walked towards the car, before getting in and shutting the door after her.
Isla fought back the smug smile that threatened to take over her face. She wasn’t going to let herself feel triumphant until she’d gotten what she needed out of Carmen. The sense of accomplishment vaporised into thin air the instant she properly registered her stream of thoughts.
Until she’d gotten what she needed out of Carmen. Was that how low Isla had fallen now? Was she only going to use the poor girl and then discard her when she no longer served a purpose?
This must have been what Willa was talking about. Maybe Isla really was a train wreck. Maybe she did indeed end up hurting those around her time and time again.
“Get out,” Isla whispered, her hand tightening around the steering wheel.
“What?” Carmen looked taken aback, staring at Isla as if she’d grown a second head.
“You need to leave,” she said, swallowing. “I don’t want to—” But she didn’t continue. She couldn’t continue.
I don’t want to hurt you too, Isla had wanted to say, but long forgotten was the ability to voice out her emotions.
“Wait, Isla, I don’t understand—”
“I asked
you to get out of my vehicle,” Isla snapped. “I really don’t see what’s so hard to understand about that.”
She waited for the blow. She waited for Carmen to snap back at her. She waited for the look of disgust.
Nothing of the sort came. Nothing except for Carmen chewing on her bottom lip, as she examined Isla with worry and a tinge of sadness. And somehow, that was worse than any insult anyone could’ve thrown her way.
“This must have been what it felt like for Asa,” Carmen finally said, her voice quiet.
Isla frowned at her. “What?”
“Something happened today,” she sighed, “in art class. And I reacted by pushing Asa away like the way you’re pushing me away now. I didn’t realise how much it must suck to have someone you care about push you away until now.” She ran a hand down her face. “God, the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt him.”
Isla’s mind was stuck in a loop, repeating Carmen’s words over and over again: “to have someone you care about push you away…someone you care about…”
“Wait.” Isla blinked, her throat tightening. “Did you just imply that…that you care about me?”
“Well, of course I do, Isla,” Carmen said in a completely surprised tone. “I thought I’d already made that clear.”
“I-I didn’t—I just—I thought…” She shut her eyes and took in deep breaths, trying to steady herself and get a hold of her emotions. When Isla opened them back again, Carmen was watching her anxiously.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Isla asked, looking away and fidgeting with the ends of her long blonde strands.
“Because…my mum was like you,” she mumbled, causing Isla’s head to whip towards her in bewilderment. “Back in high school, she was that girl: the popular one, the queen bee, the one that apparently slept around too much and wore short shorts. She had it pretty bad during school, and that reputation followed her into college too, despite getting her act together and having a steady relationship with my dad by then.”
“Oh,” was all Isla could say. “I…well, at least she’s got you and your dad now, right? She must be happy.”
“The dead don’t get to feel happy.”
Isla’s eyes widened. She was suddenly fumbling for words. “Shit, Carmen. I’m so sorry—I didn’t—”
“Its fine,” Carmen said. Something in her tone ended the conversation on the particular topic effectively.
An awkward silence fell on them, and Isla found herself searching frantically for something else to talk about.
“So.” Isla cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “You push people away too, huh? When you’re upset?”
Carmen shrugged somewhat half-heartedly, looking distracted, and Isla couldn’t exactly blame her. “Yeah, guess so.”
“Can’t say I’m not surprised.”
Carmen turned to look at her. “That we have something in common?” she asked.
“That you have a flaw,” Isla responded.
The other girl frowned, her grey eyes observing Isla’s blue ones. “Of course I have my flaws, Isla. I’m not perfect, contrary to popular belief.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Carmen laughed humourlessly. “You know, for someone who hates Willa so much, that’s pretty judgmental of you.”
Isla pressed her lips together, deciding to change the subject because there was something more important she needed to say right now. “Listen, about Asa…” she trailed off, unable to meet Carmen’s eyes, “He’s always the one that everybody takes their bad days out on—everybody he cares for, that is.” She ran her fingers along the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s because we know he’ll eventually forgive us for it and always be there no matter what. Just—and I know it sounds hypocritical coming from me—but please don’t be another one of those people. Everyone he loves has let him down at one point in his life. Don’t add yourself to that list.”
Carmen didn’t say anything, but then again, she didn’t have to. The tenderness that crept over her face when Asa was mentioned spoke volumes to Isla.
Maybe Asa was in safe hands. Maybe Isla needn’t worry as much. Maybe—and this killed Isla on the inside—he didn’t need her around anymore.
“He misses you, you know,” Carmen told her softly.
Isla didn’t believe that for even a second, knowing it was just Carmen being nice. Instead of arguing with her about it though, Isla just smiled and asked for her address.
After she’d dropped off Carmen and was driving herself back home, all she could think about was going to that beach bonfire tonight.
That, and getting drunk out of her mind.
38.
Letting Go
Asa was lying on his bed, hating the world—being angry at everything and everyone around him, even if it seemed illogical and plain stupid. He flexed his fingers, curling and uncurling his fists, as he lifted his hands into the air and examined the bruised knuckles. Just like that, his surroundings disappeared, and the scene encompassing those last few crucial seconds from his record-breaking race last swimming meet materialised before his eyes.
His body was moving through the water with the kind of grace and skill one could only acquire after pouring all their sweat and blood into perfecting a certain art. His hands were once again outstretched in front of him, his fingers flashing through his peripheral vision every now and then as he furiously moved closer and closer towards that finish line.
And there was that chanting from the indoor bleachers.
God, even now he could hear the sound of his school’s name being roared over and over again by the other Reichenbach students and family who’d come for support.
Asa closed his eyes and smiled, almost being able to feel the wildfire that had coursed throughout his body that day when he’d been titled the national champion—something that he was never going to feel again.
Maybe Asa didn’t hate the world, then. Maybe he wasn’t angry at everything and everyone around him. In all honesty, it was probably himself he hated, himself that he was mad at.
But then again, what else was new?
Opening his eyes with a deep sigh, he pushed himself off the bed and headed down towards the kitchen instead. There was no point lying around and moping while feeling sorry for himself. He’d dug himself into this hole, nobody else. And he needed to own up to that.
“Oh, you’re up,” his mother remarked when he reached the end of the staircase which was right in front of the living room.
Asa frowned. “What are you talking about? I was never asleep.”
She shrugged. “You’ve been in there ever since you came from school. I thought you were taking a nap.”
“No,” he muttered. “No nap.”
His mother just nodded, looking at him wearily as if she wanted to say something more but then seemed to decide against it.
“Where’s pa?” Asa asked, looking around the room curiously.
“He went to grab dinner. Friday night is takeout night, remember?”
“Right,” he mumbled, hating his one-word responses but feeling restless and uneasy to hold up a proper conversation. Maybe he should take a nap. Better yet, maybe he should just call it a night and deal with the world tomorrow onwards.
He sighed deeply and turned towards his mother. “You know what, ma, I think I’ll just go—”
A loud knock interrupted him and both of them turned to stare at the door with confusion.
“Are you expecting someone?” he inquired.
She shook her head. “No, and your father wouldn’t need to knock.” She paused, thinking for a minute. “Unless he forgot his keys like usual.”
The person on the other side of the door knocked again, but this time it didn’t stop. The knocking only grew louder and yet, it didn’t seem urgent. In fact, it seemed almost…sloppy?
Asa frowned and when he noticed her about to get up from the couch, gestured for his mum to sit, deciding to check who it was for himself.
Whoever the idiot was beh
ind the door seemed to have been placing their entire weight on it because the instant Asa opened it, they crashed into Asa and sent him flying to the floor with a painful groan. Seconds later, he felt a body collapse right on top of him, an elbow hitting him right in the ribs and making him see black dots in his vision.
Asa swore, a string of colourful Spanish words leaving his mouth in an angry fit. For the first time, his mother didn’t reprimand him for it. He turned towards her for help, but she seemed to be frozen in her seat, her jaw dropped wide open at the scene that had just unfolded before her.
“Ma? Hello? Yeah, less seeing and more helping, por favor?”
He heard the sound of a familiar giggle, and his eyes widened when he realised who had just turned up at his place during this hour of the night.
“Isla?” he asked in bewilderment, lifting his head off the ground only to meet her messy blonde head. “Isla, what the heck are you doing?”
“You’re so adorable when you speak in Spanish.” She giggled again, and Asa swore some more, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on the floor.
She was drunk. Good God, she was completely drunk.
He pushed her body off him gently and stood up before reaching down and grabbing a hold of her arms, lifting her to her feet.
“Isla.” He frowned, worry and concern washing over him as he examined her for any injuries. “Where have you been?”
“You’re upset.” Isla pouted, noticing his anxious expression. “I’m always making you upset, aren’t I?”
Asa sighed and dared to glance at his mother. He wished he hadn’t done that though, because her dark eyes were narrowed into slits, and her face was twisted into a grimace.
Instead of saying anything to his mother, he directed his attention back to the drunk girl that he was struggling to keep from collapsing to the floor. “Isla, please just listen to me, okay?” He shook her shoulders, trying to get her to focus. “How did you end up here? How—”
The beach party, he suddenly realised. Hadn’t Isla mentioned in school that there was a bonfire at the beach tonight? The one that he had to skip out on because he was supposed to be driving through the neighbourhood with Willa and Carmen, before everything went to hell and he’d had to come home instead.
