35 | 𝐴-𝑂𝑘𝑎𝑦

Two blowjobs in the span of twenty-four hours. Not what I'd consider to be a good rep on me.

"Don't worry, you're gonna do great." Sullivan gave me a thumbs up as Mrs. Allen presented our project to the classroom. The presentation was in front of my eyes on the big screen and I felt a tidal wave of anxiety freeze me in place making my hands go cold and hot at the same time. I swallowed down the spurts of frustration that increased in my throat.

"Hi, I'm Sullivan Corbett and this is my colleague, Azariah Kellman."He gestured to the board as it flipped to our next slide. "Why do people like thriller movies? Thriller and suspense is a genre that lets us feel exhilarated and fearful in a controlled environment where it keeps it to a minimum."

Like Victor last night... I should not be thinking about that.

I added because he almost flipped to the next slide without mentioning, "thrillers deliberately amplify the suspense to make us feel adrenaline without getting the jump-scares that horror movies provide. Instead of giving a more solidified fear of death in people's minds, it gives anxiety, confusion, and an increasing amount of suspicion."

I nodded to Sullivan to switch the slide. My heart thundered against my ribs as I was afraid of what he was going to say. We didn't rehearse it all that much, but nonetheless, I surveyed the classroom, attempting to guarantee points for eye contact. Suddenly my eyes landed on Victor.

Sullivan listed off the movies we watched and then went to the next slide as he spoke about the first movie. I spoke about the second, and every other until Sullivan concluded the fifth movie premise to the class. Each movie increasingly worked its way up to the most recent year, 2008.

He pressed on the board and the next slide met the students' eyes. I held my flashcards, glancing down, then proclaiming, "thrillers get the heart racing and what my colleague and I learned about them is that there was always such an unexpected twist. There's always one path that the main character takes before something interrupts and creates a whole other plot within its main one."

Sullivan concluded, "thrillers share in common a theme of unexpectedness. Nothing is what it seems and it could change at any moment."

He flipped to the next slide of scientific bullet points. "On our findings," I started, my eyes trained on Victor as if I were only talking to him. I used him selfishly to help trick myself into thinking that I was just ranting to him like I do. With this in mind, I could block out Kayla, or Jay, or the high school perv, Olivia, Rowan, Wolfie and Sam, and everyone. They all faded with him there and that made me feel a million things, but stage fright was not one. "We've discovered that people feel comforted by thrillers because it lets us confront our fears."

I looked over to Sullivan, but he only shrugged.

My heart stopped. He should've been speaking and talking. I swallowed down the frustration as silence waved over us. In the corner of my eyes, Victor ghostly nodded two times, he was focused on me as if he'd known that I was using him to get through this presentation.

"Everyday people like you and me, commonly might have-uhh--" I pursed my lips, something slitting my breathing. "A lack of trust with bosses, politicians, and people who are higher in--uh--status." I looked to the teacher, then the clock, then back to Victor. "A common occurrence with thrillers is that they all approached a relationship of a higher status like I said. There was always an indifference in status..." My voice trailed.

I'm saying 'status' too much.

"And we learned," I continued, "the main character always is outrageously brave. Ready to confront death, something that most are incapable of doing under pressure, but..." I thought hard on what to say. "We confront death everyday, thrillers illustrate that. They show that waking up, leaving the house, and meeting people, can all lead to an inevitable... plot twisted... ending... and that's what scares us."

♡♡♡

"You did great up there," Kayla told me.

"I know I did." I crossed my arms and trudged the rest of the hallway to the cafeteria. "I guess we'll see your presentation tomorrow."

"That's the plan, unless the next group goes over their time." She laughed, acting as if there wasn't something between us. She sighed frustratingly, then muttered, "we have a club meeting tomorrow."

"I know, we're going to volunteer somewhere."

"The museum and we're taking a bus. I'm hoping you could sit next to me?" she offered, but I pivoted on my heel and clutched my books tighter.

"And why would I do that?"

Her breath hitched and she looked somewhat startled. She fixed her blonde curls on her head and told me, "I'm sorry I did those things, and slept with Sullivan, and lied, and was a horrible best friend. But I'm sorry--"

"Look--"

She interjected, "we always reconcile after a few weeks of not talking. We just needed a break?"

I watched students disperse into classrooms and knew I should be going. "I don't know. I think we need a longer break than just this." My eyes fell to the ground. "I should get to class but--"

"Riyah--"

I shook my head and started walking away before I could hear any more of her talk. I fumbled with my pocket to pluck out my phone. I needed to look like I was doing something, I needed to distract my mind, and luckily I saw my mom's texts on my phone. Wishing me a good day and how she was stressed about an upcoming court case.

I texted her a quick reply and stuffed my phone into my pocket again, turning down the hall, but in the corner of my eye, I saw someone familiar. They were laying on one of the nurse's beds with closed eyelids and a feverish tone to their skin.

I squinted my eyes, then walked into the room. "Penny, are you okay?"

The nurse looked up at me, presumably going to ask me to leave, but Penelope sat upright, her hand falling off her head. "No, Nurse McPolland," she directed, "she can stay, thank you."

I seated myself on the blue, cold bed opposing Penelope. It wrinkled and released a shrill cry in protest. "Are you feeling okay?"

She shook her head. "I have a fever. My dad is coming to get me now." She forced a grin. "I don't know how long I'll be out for."

"But the Vulpine trip tomorrow?" I brought up, frowning. "You won't be able to go, would you?" My voice had the tone of knowledge like I was expecting an inescapable answer.

"Yeah, plus, I had my presentation tomorrow!" Her hand flew up to the ceiling. "My partner is going to kill me."

"Who's that?" I invested, tilting my head. "I bet they won't--"

"Victor Vislocky." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair again, her face becoming hotter. "I hope he won't be mad."

"Believe me," I began reassuringly, "he's not that type of guy to act like that. Besides, not doing his presentation tomorrow? He'll get over it." I smiled as the nurse tapped her desk to get my attention.

"Miss Kellman, you have class."

"Indeed." I drew up from the bed and gave her another grin. "Feel better, Penny."

"Thank you."

♡♡♡

The next day after Kayla's presentation, we were on the bus to the museum. Victor hadn't even showed up to school that day and to my surprise and his lack of texting, he didn't show up to the Vulpine Union field trip.

When he'd finally replied to my series of frantic texts asking where he was, he only replied twenty minutes after the bus left with a weak 'sorry.'

I was frustrated and stared out the window angrily. The blurry image of houses surpassing me. I gnawed on a hangnail to distract me, but his voice brought me somewhat back to life. "Next time, can you let me get the window seat?"

Startled, I shot him a look of confusion till it dawned on me. "Oh--we can switch now."

"Okay."

I quickly stood, flattening against the black leather seat in front of us as he slid to the window and I planted myself next to the aisle of the school bus. The grumbling of the motor trembled the ground as he watched the cars blow past us.

Rowan and Olivia were sitting in the seat parallel, laughing and talking amongst themselves until I heard a snippet of their conversation mentioning Keiona. I smiled helplessly, turning to catch a glimpse of Rowan getting red, waving it off before eventually, he threw his head back and smiled. His ginger-red hair became a bit staticed from the seat.

Olivia was in a laughing fit, smiling the entire time, teasing him. "you do!" she finally announced.

"I don't--"

Olivia noticed my blank expression and absent conversation with my bus partner. "Do you think so?" she questioned and Rowan went panic-stricken. "Keiona and him would make a cute couple?"

"Are you kidding?" I chuckled. "They practically are one, I saw at the party. You guys are adorable."

Rowan shrunk back in his seat, his hands to his face. "You guys are ridiculous. We acted like friends would."

Olivia commented, "yeah, like you and Victor."

Sullivan snapped up. "They're not a couple, what did you guys say you were?" The bus became silent. "Friends with benefits?"

I gulped, even the conversation between Clemont and the bus driver became silenced by the growing tension. Kayla was in the seat behind Rowan and Olivia, next to Jay and they were all staring at me. The worst feeling in the world bathing me in the spotlight.

That was until Olivia sensed the tension and said, "you go, Girl. Usually Victor puts the people he sleeps with on the backburner. Must be special." She gave a sweet smile as if to fix the energy.

Without a second passing to change the topic, Kayla uttered, "how special."

Damn, can she make up her mind? Hate me or not?

Jay threw his head into his hands, throwing himself over his knees and squeezing his eyes shut, clutching his ears. His knee bounced rapidly. My voice filled the bus next, "Jay, are you alright?"

He threw me a rigid thumbs up before straightening his posture and breathing quickly. He lifted his head, tears in his eyes as he pointed to the front of the bus. "We're not like... driving off the bridge because the bus driver is having a seizure, right?"

He looked at me, despite Kayla telling him they were fine. I nodded and smiled. "We're a-okay."

Olivia twisted in her seat, propping her elbows on the black leather seat in front of him. "You doing good?"

He revealed the water in his eyes. "A-okay," he repeated.

Within that hour, we arrived outside of the museum, encircled with Greek Goddess statue replicas. The bus pulled into the U-shaped entrance, gesturing to the doors as Clem led the way.

"I am so excited. Today we are meeting Alana, she will instruct us around the museum and we will be cleaning and learning and helping--" Clem rambled.

"How fun," Sullivan mused sarcastically into my ear. "Maybe we can go to the bathroom later?"

"I don't have to go, I went at the rest stop," I told him, then realized. "Oh, yeah, maybe?" I suggested with a smile similar to his.

Clem led us to the double doors as the bus drove away. We followed each other in a group through the main lobby, decorated in artifacts and warmth. The welcoming invitation greeted me with a high ceiling and spherical tiled beige support beams.

"This right here," started Clem, gesturing to a statue. "Looks like my mother, let's leave that there--why, hello!" he beamed as the middle aged woman approached with a glowing smile.

"Hi there, I'm Alana and I'm here to welcome you into our history home." She motioned to the endless hallways to turn down as she said, "I was talking to Clem and half of you are going to go with him and I to learn first, while the others go to clean and do the actual volunteer work, then we'll switch."

We separated and I was led off with Olivia and Rowan towards the shelves that needed to be dusted. It was a huge library with ancient books and red velvet ropes restricting certain aisles, while some books were concealed in glass cases. The room was cold, colder than usual to keep the books preserved as Olivia and Rowan dusted the shelves while I swept. Soft toned jazz danced in my ears as I mindlessly navigated the broom over the old wooden floorboards. The library was chill and no one was in there but us.

"Sorry about what I said," Olivia murmured, "I didn't know you and Sullivan are..."

"Dating."

"What?" Rowan questioned, looking up from his spot by the bookshelf. "I never would've predicted that."

"Me either." Olivia forced a grimace at seeing my blank expression. "No offense, but he just doesn't seem to make you as relaxed or as comfortable as Victor does."

"Speaking of," Rowan began off-topic. "He was the one who introduced you to Keiona, right?" His hand momentarily ceased the duster momentum.

"You know, I think she likes you." I told him, "You should just ask her."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if I was missing some key parts to my brain. "Absolutely not. She could reject me."

Olivia piped in from the aisle over. "Rowan, remember that time I asked out that waiter at the restaurant with the bad fish and he rejected me and told me he was actually gay and getting over his college roommate who became a porn star?" She recalled this with a nostalgic sound to her tone.

He nodded curtly and she added, "well, if I could do that and get that kind of answer, then sure as hell you can ask Keiona who is most definitely into guys." Olivia resumed her position and started dusting again.

Rowan halted his steps, staring down at the floor. "Yeah, she's into guys, but is she into me?"

"Well," I began, "your personalities balance each other nicely--"

"No," Rowan interrupted, "is she into me is the question." His voice was curt and on edge as if he was implying something. I understood once I recalled the look in his eyes to something I'd make when I was convincing my mom I liked her protein bars. When he noticed my expression change, he became more relaxed, turning to the duster in hand.

"Rowan, Keiona is the most lovable person I know." I faced him. "And you won't know till you ask."

Oliva expertly chimed in, "maybe take your own advice!" After seeing Rowan hum in agreement, I quirked my brow, expecting her to go on. "You took forever to get with Sullivan and it was obvious he was your crush."

"Whatever," I brushed off. Before I could process anything, my phone in my back pocket began to vibrate and the chorus of a One Direction song filled my ears. Rowan looked at me and nodded his head in approval as if to say 'good music choice.'

I smiled and nodded back before slipping out my phone and seeing the caller ID, it was Victor and a selfie of him and I on his birthday on the ferry displayed itself. I scrunched my nose, situated the broom up against the walls of the library, and stepped outside into the main lobby with scattered statues and people. I stood beside an old Renaissance painting while I answered the call.

"Hey, Victor, what's up?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't come, something's come up." His voice trembled which only made my heart  quicken in speed. Everything blurred and I narrowed my eyes on a speck of dirt on the rose gold waxed floors.

"Vicky, that's okay, I'm not mad," I said to him, but his quivering breath slipped through the speaker, momentarily making mine match his. I felt cold with ice penetrating my body and it made me grow claustrophobic, turning feverish and worrisome. My hands went clammy and frigid at the same time. "Vicky--"

"I just... I'm leaving--"

"Vicky," I whispered into the phone. All chances of breathing left me as my mouth felt as dry as the library's stagnant air; something wasn't right. "Where are you going?" Before he could respond, a monotone speaker and distant conversations flooded into the phone and familiarity swam into me. "Are you at an airport?" Tears were in my eyes. "Victor, answer me!"

"Listen, I'm okay." His voice was calmer than before and more steady. "I just needed to hear your voice." He paused. "I feel a lot better now."

"Well, I don't!" I yelled out, seeing multiple people turn and silence, hushing me to be quiet before turning back to the sculptures. "Where are you going? How long will you be gone?" I felt warm tears seep into my eyes, forbidding the orange luminescence to protrude my eyelids. "Your presentation is next week."

He chuckled. "I got it all sorted out. I don't know how long I'll be gone--"

"But--" My breath hitched and he quieted to let me speak. I fluttered my eyes open. "Was it what we did? Did I mess everything up?"

"No." He was still chuckling, but a sad chuckle, like he was all downcast about everything that all he could do was laugh at me. "Believe me, that gave me all the reason to stay, but just remember what I said and you'll be fine. You'll rock his world for Christ sakes--"

"Victor, where are you going?" I pressed the phone tighter to my ear to hear everything, even his now steady breathing. I was hoping that if I clutched the phone any tighter, I could feel him on the other side.

He sniffled, presumably repressing tears. "I can't talk, Rhy. I got to go, but--"

"No."

"Princess, I can't stay on the phone forever," he murmured into my ear. "You'll be okay. I promise, I will give you so many more lessons when I return and I will make Sullivan fall to his knees for you."

"Victor."

He lectured tightly, "don't do anything I wouldn't do." Then I felt his smile. "Rhy, will you trust me if I don't tell you where I'm going."

"No."

"Good, because I don't trust myself."

I meekly asked with forbidden tears, "when will you be back, Vicky? I need to know. I don't want you to just disappear again--"

"I can't tell you when I'll be back because I don't know when I'll be, but I'll make it a note to text you soon. I just--I need to leave." His voice was ridden with apprehension and fake positivity, and I didn't let the facade morph my own normalcy. I was worried.

Lastly, I implored with a strain to my voice, "will you be safe?"

"If that means I get to hug and kiss you at the end of all this, then yeah, Princess, I'll make sure I come back to you in one peice."

After his rushed exchange of having to go, he hung up, and his voice transpired to a long flatline beep. I pressed the phone to my chest, my back inclining towards the cold, beige marble of the museum and slid down to a seat, my knees up to my chest and warm tears down my face.

And worse of all, me holding the one materialistic thing that brought me a sense of Victor in that minute, gave me a strong, forceful sense of deja vu when holding my diary about Sullivan, and everything felt a little bit more complicated than they were just moments ago.

x