Through Your Eyes

by Ali Merci

  “Isla…” she started with a cautious tone. “Why did you ask me to draw them that way?”

  Isla’s eyes left the journal and looked back at Carmen, confusion swimming in them. “I told you; I wanted to give them—”

  “No.” She shook her head, cutting Isla off. “Not why you asked me to draw the photos. Why did you ask me to draw all those photos without you in them?”

  Isla’s eyes went wide and there was a flash of pain in them, but it was gone as soon as it had come.

  Carmen didn’t get it though. All the family photographs of the Martins had both Mr. and Mrs. Martin along with Isla in them. They looked happy enough—genuinely happy. But Isla had asked Carmen to sketch those photos exactly as they were with the exception of Isla’s presence in them.

  “Because it’s a gift, Carmen,” Isla finally muttered, the exhaustion seeping into her voice as she sat down on one of the benches, her shoulders drooping. “I want to present them with something, and what better way to do it than show them how their life would looked like without me in it? An alternate reality where their screwed-up daughter isn’t born. A lifetime when they didn’t have some whore with no future as a daughter.”

  And despite Carmen’s reserved attitude towards Isla on Asa’s behalf, she felt her gut clench in worry for the girl. Isla and Carmen might not have the same stories, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand the pain and the turmoil the other girl must be experiencing.

  “Don’t call yourself that,” Carmen said quietly, feeling a pang in her chest.

  Isla scoffed. “The rest of the world does, why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because the minute you call yourself what they label you, you give them the power to destroy you. So, don’t,” she said firmly. “Besides, this school and this city aren’t the rest of the world. It doesn’t even cover half of this world. There’s still so much to see, so much to do. Once you’re done with senior year and leave, this will all be just some bad memory.”

  Isla didn’t say anything for a while, but after a few moments, she eventually sighed and looked up at Carmen. “Thanks.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “For both the drawings and just you being you. But I’ve got to get going now. I’m co-captain, can’t keep my girls waiting.”

  Carmen wanted to say more—she felt like she should be saying more—but she heard the tone of finality in Isla’s voice. It clearly said she was done talking about it, and so Carmen didn’t try stopping Isla as she rose from the bench and walked away.

  Maybe some people didn’t want to be saved.

  •••

  The final bell rang, its shrill and sharp sound piercing the silence in the classroom and making Carmen wince. She’d never gotten used to the sound, and it still made her want to cover her ears.

  Gathering her books from her desk, she slipped on her shoulder bag over her arm and headed out of the classroom, joining the stream of enthusiastic students pouring into the hallways. She was just about to turn into one of the corridors, when a firm hand wrapped around her forearm and yanked her back to a corner of the hallway, out of the way of the bustling students.

  The first thing her body registered was that it wasn’t Asa’s hand. The second thing was irrational fear, a sudden overwhelming need to scream, but before she could act on her sudden spark of terror, her eyes landed on the person responsible for her mini heart attack.

  “Hunter!” she gasped, all the fear leaving her in an instant. “You idiot,” she muttered angrily, pulling her arm away from his grasp. “You scared—”

  “Tell me you’re not coming to the dinner,” he said, cutting right to the chase.

  Something inside Carmen deflated at his words, and it only made her angry at herself for holding onto the hope that things between them might change for the better. She felt like a pathetic little girl who don’t know how to admit defeat when she’d already lost to this world ages ago.

  “I could tell you that, but then I’d be lying,” she muttered, a bitter edge to her voice that was completely uncharacteristic of her. But Hunter had a way of bringing out the loathing she buried deep inside her. She couldn’t decide if suppressing it made her weak and hypocritical, or if letting it out of its hiding place would make her seem less like the calm and forgiving person she was seen as.

  It was the calm and forgiving part of her that Asa was in love with, right? He hadn’t seen her loathing, hadn’t seen the parts of her she wished she didn’t have to bury because she’d rather they not exist at all.

  Hunter made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, something between a growl and a sigh. Or maybe it was a suppressed swear word. Carmen couldn’t tell.

  “Do you go looking for misery?” he asked her then, impatience very much evident in his tone.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m going because if it’s an opportunity to reconnect with my family, then I’m going to take the chance.”

  “Your family.” He scoffed. “Family? Family doesn’t bring you down. They don’t rip you to shreds. Which is what we’ve done to you in the past, so I don’t get why you would accept Aunt Beatrix’s invitation!”

  Carmen ran both her palms down her face, feeling the agitation crawl up her nerves. “Hunter, what do you want from me?” she snapped, losing every ounce of patience she had when it came to him.

  He clenched his jaw so hard that Carmen genuinely wondered if he wasn’t hurting his teeth with the gesture.

  “I want you to decline the invitation,” he finally said, looking past her shoulder and into the distance. His expression was free of anger now and was back to being blank, and his voice bordered on robotic. His entire demeanour was simply devoid of any emotion. “Call Aunt Bea and tell her you can’t make it.”

  Even after all this time, his hatred for her ran deep. So deep, in fact, that he was here, asking her to not come to a place that he was going to be in just because he didn’t want to acknowledge her existence.

  “I can’t do that, Hunter,” she said, her voice hardening with disappointment and anguish towards the boy she’d once known, the boy who’d once been the closest figure to a brother that she’d had.

  “Why not?” he bit out through gritted teeth.

  “Because they’re not just my mum’s people, they’re also my dad’s family. The family he married into! He might not say it, but I know he misses them.” Carmen hauled her bag higher up her shoulder, feeling the strap dig into the skin of her neck. “Bottom line, I’m going to that dinner. So deal with it, Hunter. And if you’re disgusted by my presence so much, then don’t come.”

  Hunter swore under his breath and yanked at his hair, his emotionless facade breaking as the annoyance, anger and something else that Carmen couldn’t identify played across his features.

  “I’m not going to be there,” he told her.

  That stung more than she’d have liked to admit. “Fine,” Carmen mumbled, unable to mask the wounded tone in her voice. “Suit yourself.”

  “No no.” He shook his head in an almost frantic manner. “You don’t understand. I’m saying I’m not going to be there. As in, the minute Dad heard you’re invited, he said he won’t be attending Thanksgiving, and I’m not allowed to either.”

  Carmen could only stand there and stare at Hunter, her mind completely baffled beyond belief.

  “So don’t go,” he muttered, the hard edge to his voice softening just the tiniest bit. “Because grandma might want you there, but she’s sick and won’t be there for the whole dinner. She’d probably greet you, stick around for a while and then go back to being on bed rest. And after that, the rest of them are not gonna stop with the snide comments and hints. You know that.”

  “Wait.” Carmen swallowed, holding up a finger, her hand shaking the slightest bit. “Wait a minute.” She took in a deep breath and tried getting a hold of all her emotions because everything inside her was in utter chaos now. “Are you telling me you’re here—you’re actually here—to ask me not to go out of concern?” Sh
e kept blinking up at him, confusion pulling her brows together and creasing her forehead.

  “Why do you have to go there?” He scowled, the annoyance creeping back into his voice. “Why can’t you just take what I said and go along with it? Why do you need to keep digging around regarding my intentions?”

  And Carmen let her heart do the talking for her. “Because I need to know that the brother who told me he’d fight off the world for me when we were just six years old is still in there somewhere.”

  “Well, he’s not.” Hunter shrugged, eyes guarded and his voice cold enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. “He died a long time back.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Carmen whispered, feeling someone approach from behind.

  “And that,” Hunter said, emphasising the second word, “is why you’ll always keep getting your heart broken.”

  His eyes then landed on something just past Carmen’s shoulders, and before she could turn around herself, she felt a familiar palm slip into hers, lacing their fingers together.

  She almost melted into Asa’s side as he stood there next to her, realising that she didn’t truly know how much she appreciated the warmth he brought with him until he was right there, offering her comfort even when she didn’t ask for it.

  “Everything okay here?” he asked. Asa’s eyes were trained on Hunter—calculating and hard—but the gentle, coaxing tone of his voice told Carmen that the question was directed towards her.

  “Yeah,” she said softly, smiling for the first time that day as she tilted her head back to look up at him. “It is now.”

  His coffee eyes shifted away from Hunter and dropped down to meet hers, the hard look instantly softening and warmth pooling into his eyes.

  Carmen spared a glance at Hunter, but his face was back to being expressionless. He looked like he was going to say something, but then just shook his head and took off down the hallway.

  Carmen and Asa stood side by side, hands joined, and watched him go.

  “Sure you’re okay, right?” Asa asked immediately, turning around to face her completely. “Because if he said something else to hurt—”Carmen shook her head, cutting him off, as her heart swelled with affection at the protective stance Asa had taken. “Quite the opposite, really,” she mumbled, still distracted with thoughts about the upcoming dinner. “I think he was here because he was worried.” It sounded horribly weird when she said it out loud.

  “His attitude swings are going to give me whiplash,” Asa muttered under his breath. “Do you know he stood up for you a few days back?”

  Carmen’s head instantly snapped up from where she’d been staring at the spot Hunter had stood in just minutes ago. “What?”

  “Locker room,” he explained. “Some of the guys were being idiots. He put them in their place.”

  Carmen frowned. “You discuss me in the boy’s locker room?”

  Asa flushed. “Of course not!” he retorted. “It wasn’t my fault!”

  Carmen grinned in response. “I was just pulling your leg. Relax.”

  And then, completely on impulse, she placed her other hand on his shoulder and stood on her toes, leaning in to place a light kiss on his jaw. “I know you’d never treat me like that,” she mumbled into his skin, before pulling away and landing back on her feet.

  The breathless smile he offered her right then made her heart skip several beats.

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

  When exactly had Carmen lost her heart to this boy with the sun’s glow in his eyes?

  Was it when she caught a glimpse of him running his hand through his hair in the cafeteria? Was it when he handed her art journal back to her, a sincere apology on his lips? Was it when she saw him grinning with his head tipped back? Was it when he’d thanked her for existing and kissed her cheek? Was it when he told her he loved her? Was it when he touched her shoulder or held her hand during times she needed comfort?

  Did she fall for him at one particular moment in time? Or did every single time he allowed her a peek into his soul add up to it?

  She didn’t know when it happened, and she supposed it didn’t matter either.

  She’d given up every bit of her fractured, ripped heart to Asa San Román, and even though she loved him with the shattered remnants of a soul that wasn’t whole, she wished—oh, she wished—that this broken version of her would be enough.

  Please, she said a silent prayer, please let it be enough.

  44.

  I’ll Say It Back

  Asa’s eyes scanned the text he’d just received from Hayden which informed him about a party that was going to be held later on that night at the house of one of the guys from the basketball team.

  He nibbled on a corner of his bottom lip, deep in thought, as he tried to decide if he wanted to attend or not.

  Before, he’d have gone without a second thought, but now, parties surprisingly didn’t hold the same allure for him as they once had.

  Firstly, he’d matured and since then realised that underage drinking was a pretty stupid thing to do. He supposed being removed from the interstate championship had driven him to that realisation and made up his mind. It had sucked to learn that he couldn’t take part in it, and he didn’t want to risk getting caught with alcohol in his system and be kicked off the school’s team for good in case the cops showed up.

  And secondly, the girls. Parties had always been the perfect place to work his charms. But now... Now that didn’t appeal to him either. This, he realised, had a lot to do with a certain girl who had midnight hair and eyes that never failed to pierce his soul.

  He wasn’t going to touch another girl when he knew his heart belonged to someone now. Hell, he hadn’t so much as flirted with anyone for a long time now.

  And Asa definitely wasn’t complaining. Why should he? With Carmen, every little thing was always more. She was more. And he’d drop just about everything just to keep getting his fill.

  He let out a sigh and used his thumb to swipe the pop-up text away from his home screen.

  He’d just decide on attending it or not later. Even if he didn’t want to drink or have an intense make out session for one night, he still did want to spend some time out of school with Hayden, Wyatt, and a few other guys who he could tolerate.

  It’d been a while since he hung out with the guys, and oddly enough, he kind of missed it. He also desperately needed some kind of normal after 1) losing his best friend, 2) getting kicked off the one competition he’d been looking forward to his entire life, and 3) telling the girl he was in love with how he felt about her in the bluntest way.

  It was ironic, really, that the three things he least expected to happen turned out to be the very source of his growth.

  Shaking his head to himself, he slipped his phone into his pocket and turned around, only to find Carson approaching him.

  For the love of God. Couldn’t he just catch a goddamn break?

  None of the bruises were visible on his face anymore, and his eyes had healed from the swelling, but Carson’s slightly crooked nose still told a story of him getting it broken.

  You took away my chance of participating in the meet,” Carson said, eyes fixed on Asa with a steely resolve that only meant trouble.

  “I took away mine too,” Asa told him matter-of-factly. “Sucks, I know.”

  “Yeah well, that spot was never yours anyway,” he bit out. “But I deserved to be there. And you took it away.” He stepped closer, and jabbed Asa’s chest, pure rage radiating off him in waves. “Because you went crying to the principal and your parents like the pathetic piece of shit that you are.”

  Asa didn’t want the words to get to him; he didn’t want to allow them inside his head only to engrave themselves into the walls of his mind while they plotted to antagonise him later.

  But he was finding it really hard to do so.

  It hadn’t been weakness, had it? When Asa had come clean about the bullying?

  He’d done what he had to do in order to make
surviving school easier. Had that been pathetic?

  Stop it, he chastised himself. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. He just wanted to stop letting them get to him. Wanted to stop with all the self-doubt already.

  “You’ll pay for it,” Carson then said, his voice low with the promise of retribution. “One way or another, you’re going to pay. I’m going to make you pay.”

  Asa wasn’t new to trouble; all throughout his life, his impulsive nature had always guided him to it. And more often than not, he’d found himself in one confrontation or another.

  But something in Carson’s voice—not the words, but the tone in which he delivered them—unsettled Asa. And that was saying a lot.

  He kept his cool, though. He didn’t let himself rise to the bait. “You can pull the same shit you did in the cafeteria that day.” Asa shrugged. “It won’t matter. Because I’m not going to let you provoke me into throwing the first punch. Not this time.”

  Carson’s answering smirk intensified the uneasy feeling in Asa.

  “Asa, Asa, Asa.” He sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I don’t have to get to you, in order to get to you, do I?” His smile widened. “Give Carmen my regards.”

  All sense of self-preservation that kept Asa in check instantly drained away from his mind and body, and he took a threatening step closer, balling up his fists, when Carson held out a hand and spoke again.

  “Think carefully about what you’re going to do right now,” he said. “Because one more misstep on your part, and my parents aren’t going to give you the courtesy of going to Hendrickson first.” He cocked his head to the side, angling his jaw towards Asa. “Go ahead. Punch me. I’d love to slap you with a harassment charge.”

  Asa’s fists clenched even harder, his fingers digging into the skin of his palm, as he tried to hold in his temper. He took a few steps back because the closer he stood, the higher the chances of him choking the other boy.

  Carson seemed to view Asa backing off as a victory. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, a triumphant glint in his eyes. “You can’t do shit with the school already keeping a close eye on you. Have a great day, Asa. You never know when shit is going to hit the fan.”