40 | 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑟

For the first time in my life, I felt somewhat complete.

Sullivan and I were hand-in-hand sauntering down the hallway and I wore black skinny ripped jeans and my red silk camisole. My backpack loosely wrapped around my bare shoulder. My smile plastered happily on my nude lip.

My heart filled with an uncontainable amount of energy, rolling inside of me from the bundles of nerves that wouldn't settle. My hand felt clammy within his grasp, and besides the anxiety of that, we were walking to English class. Just like how I imagined. He drew me into the classroom, catching everyone's eyes.

We were that couple now.

He planted a kiss on my lips and we parted ways. I ambled down the aisle of desks and sat myself, peering over my shoulder to the desk that Victor always sat in, in the back of the room--but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Sullivan with a blank expression as if he was thinking. Of course I didn't question it, allowing the moment to pass while Mrs. Allen trotted to the board, exhibiting our next big assignment.

"This quarter, we are beginning a new partner project!" She seemed extra happy. That or caffeinated, the barrier between the two were practically invisible with her. She flipped to the next slide in her powerpoint, the bright yellow and green colors were not changing the anticipation in my heart. Something uneasy began to transpire while I squirmed anxiously in the blue metal seat.

At least I'd be with Sullivan.

"We are picking new partners!" Mrs. Allen exclaimed, making my stomach drop to the first floor of the school building and for me to be replaced with an airy exhaust that clouded my mind. I couldn't hear her next sentence, but the thought of doing a project with anyone else made me feel awfully alone. Besides, I was not friends with anyone in the class besides Sullivan, Jay, Rowan, Olivia, Penny, and Victor. Okay--that was a lot, but with a twenty-two person class, it was impossible to admit that my chances of getting Wolfie, Sam, the high school perv, or Kayla were remarkably just as high.

"I will be doing the same computer generator as last time.In light of this, we will also be going more into depth with the true meaning of literature and filmography which has many aspects of writing also." She paused and revealed the project to us on the next slide while she ventured to the top of each aisle and passed back the packets of pink paper.

I stared at the pages dumbly as if I couldn't read or listen to such nonsense. Unfortunately, I eventually gazed up and saw her smile as she said, "this project will be focusing on a person's decipherment of writing. We will each be given a manilla envelope--" She demonstrated. "Contained in these envelopes is a mixture of twenty pieces of literature, sections of movies, and or, episodes from TV shows that you and your partner will have to write a paragraph summary and reaction on--separately." She raised the packet and waved it in the air. "It will all be described in the rubric here."

Wolfie's hand flung to the ceiling, but without her noticing, asked, "how the hell does this work?"

Mrs. Allen stopped in her tracks. "Well, actually, each pair will receive a different set of literature, you will see--but they're all different, not one is alike." She paused again, drinking from her water bottle. "We will do a presentation during the week of prom in March. We'll go over it more."

She jogged to her computer, typing in a few things before the screen developed to the familiar blue and green. I paused in my tracks as she announced, "we are only doing it one time!"

I felt a turmoil of anguish come over me and I wanted to book it out of the classroom. The possibilities were high up by my ears and I needed somebody I knew, somebody I was friends with, somebody that I wouldn't have to stress about. These personal projects were stressful enough, but having to do it with a practical stranger scared me.

With one click of a button, my name appeared right next to... my hands went cold and my body felt in the aftershock of hypothermia. I couldn't properly register what to do with my body as I stared at the name, Mikayla Ashby.

"You gotta be kidding me," Sullivan voiced from the front of the classroom.

Mrs. Allen retreated to his desk and tapped it with her fingernail. "Do you know who your partner is this late in the year?"

He scowled, twisting around and craning his neck to the back of the classroom. "Oh, I know  Vislocky, alright."

I stilled while noticing Victor gave that smug smile in return and with a wave of distress, I noticed we weren't the only pair who'd gotten somewhat... not-okay partners. Jay was paired with Sam, Rowan with Wilson, Penny with a random person in class, and Olivia Marshall with the random guy I kissed in the cafeteria, who I later found out was a guy named Gonzalo.

"Okay, quiet down. You have the rest of the period to talk to your partner--" Mrs. Allen soothed, but she could tell this was a bad adjustment. "Listen, because we are doing such an in-depth project, we have the opportunity to get to know our partners and reconcile. I'll hand out the folders."

Kayla made her way to my seat, sitting in front of me as all the other students gathered and shifted accordingly. I absently stared at the packet, not looking at the words, but burning my eyes into the hot pink color that returned.

"Look, I'm sorry--" she started as the packet slapped onto the desk between us. She craned over the desk in front of me, her eyes apologetic. "I've just been confused lately--"

I tore open the folder and took out several strips of paper with fine printed words on it. "You do ten and I do ten at random."

"Riyah," she murmured tightly, making me habitually glance at her. A wave of memories poured into my mind as if they resurfaced. With everything happening, I'd nearly forgotten we were friends before Sullivan and Victor came into our lives. "Please, let me give you a drive home like old times--"

"She can't," a voice gruffly said, hand firmly resting on the desk. "Cause I'm actually teaching her how to drive today."

I stared up at Victor Vislocky with a determined taint to his eyes as he met mine. He urged, "isn't that, right?"

I nodded, my mouth dry. I randomly grabbed ten strips of paper and neatly put them in my blue pocket folder with turtles on it then slid the orange folder to her. "Hope you like your choices," I said, gesturing to the desk before organizing my things and stuffing it into my bag.

Sullivan was already out the door when the last bell rang while I walked out with Victor to his metallic jeep. The parking lot contained various vehicles but his car stuck out with familiarity and comfort. I slid into the passengers' side as he started it.

"Why haven't you gotten your license yet?" he asked towards me, beginning to roll out of the lot casually between the rows of cars.

I shrugged, settling into the seat before outstretching my hand and twisting the dial of the radio, relaxing when a "Message in a Bottle" by The Police started playing.

"Come on," Victor urged, looking at me, allowing his eyes to run down my body subtly. "There has to be a reason."

"I don't know," I released while laughing, my eyes lit with thrill. I hadn't quite grasped the idea of manhandling his jeep yet. "Driving requires more control and stability then I'm capable of, but Sullivan likes--"

"Absolutely not," Victor declaimed sternly, driving the length of a highway and slowing to a stop. "You are driving for yourself. As an independent woman it's important to know how to drive over your enemies."

"Motivational," I mused.

"It is!" He drove along a more vacant road in search of a place to practice. "Why are you afraid of driving? I know you had so many opportunities--"

"Driving a car is more than just that, Vicky. I'm not only driving my vehicle but everyone else's on the road and I don't know if I can handle that kind of responsibility." My lips folded inwards to my mouth sheepishly, my eyes darting to the window that glowed with a golden ray.

"It's complicated, yes, but once you get the hang of it--"

"No one is ever prepared for every scenario while driving," I said to him as he lurked into an empty parking lot. "Maybe I'll just live in a city where I don't need to drive."

"It's a life skill, Rhy." He popped open the door and slipped out, walking around the front to my side as I weakly raised my arms, defending myself, but he intercepted, "nope, you don't have a choice. Get out."

After releasing a huff of reluctance, I slid out of the jeep with his hand on his arm for stability. I trudged to the driver's side as he dipped into the passengers. When I sat behind the wheel, a whirlwind of anxiety I didn't know I had started at my throat and clogged my gut.

"I'm not ready."

"You'll never be ready, you just said it yourself, Rhy." He gestured to the driver's door as I slammed it shut and fixed the seat. I knew that much. This time, as we began fixing the mirrors, "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears For Fears began playing in the background of my frustration. Victor dimmed the volume, but narrowed in on me.

"No one has ever driven your car, have they?" I asked, glimpsing over to him.

"You'll be the first." He passed me over a reassuring smile that felt to divide us from the rest of the world. I liked that feeling and twisted to the wheel with a few stern nods of approval. "Okay," he started optimistically, his hand on the gear shift. "I'm putting you out of park, so put your foot on the brake."

I lowered my foot to the pedal, but when he switched the gears, the car forged forward at the speed of light through the abandoned parking lot heading straight for the curb and forest.

"Brake!" he kept yelling, making me panic. "It's a fifty-fifty chance!"

"There's three pedals!" Swiftly I slapped my foot to the other pedal and the car slammed forward, making us both fly back in our seats as the music faintly filled our ears and made it so our heavy breathing wasn't the only sound in the car.

I swallowed thickly, my two hands positioned at the top of the wheel as I slowly craned my neck to Victor who was nodding his head. "Let's um... driving 101. Accelerator or gas, the thing that makes this car go zoom, is right. Brake, the one that makes the car go stop and saves our lives from any potential overzealous zoom is in the middle. The clutch pedal, on the left, depress it when you're braking." His breathing more labored than mine. "You did pass your permit test, right?" His voice was hopeful.

"Yes!" I defended, "but it was a long time ago..."

"I see that."

"Alright, put this in park and let's go. I'm done driving for one day," I sang happily, motioning to the gear shift, but Victor only chuckled to himself, leaning over the middle consul. His body heat pooled onto mine making me freeze momentarily to bask in the red prickling warmth.

"Nope, I set out to teach you and I'm not failing that easily." He pointed to my feet. "You're feet are in the correct placement, that's good." He raised a brow quizzically. "Tell me where's the brake?"

I mumbled under my breath in return, "left."

"You're doing great," he praised. "Now, we'll lap around the parking lot a few times. Get a feel for it, go light on the gas and try not to drive over the white lines, pretend this lot is packed," he expressed, settling into his seat as I alleviated the pressure on the pedal.

We started to roll down the lot on either side of the white lines trepidatiously before he made me turn on the signal, figuring out how to use his jeep while we blasted songs, going at turtle speed and singing, or screaming at the top of our lungs as we roped around the parking. The longer we drove, the more that I felt comfortable.

I guess that's how it typically goes.

"You're an expert, y'know?" he murmured close by my ear.

"Oh, actually--" My voice trailed as I plucked my phone out, my foot on the brake. "I'm hungry."

I passed him my phone and he complied, looking at the displayed picture of my reflection in the mirror, wearing nothing but the multiway red laced bra and my nude undergarment in the hot pink dressing room.

"Me too," he exhaled. Suddenly his eyes fleeted up to mine and a brief emotion wiped away that happiness he once had for my driving expertise. He looked a mixture of things, and his dark eyes were glossy and sheer. His lips became wet and the phone rested in his hand in an unstable manner.

I hadn't noticed that it was sunset, we'd been driving since school ended to the time on the clock, six p.m.. The orange horizon blinded and flared across my face making me squint to study his low rising chest. The pastel blue began to transform into an inky navy shadow and the faint yellow sunlight peeked over the abandoned building, aged with graffiti and trash.

"Vicky?" I asked, prodding a finger towards the phone screen in his hands. "I thought I looked hot! Like I could actually pull it off--like that's seductive!" I squealed, bouncing in my seat.

He nodded, sealing his lips and swallowing thickly. "No, you do. You look absolutely, fucking hot."

"Then why are you sad?"

"I'm not," he answered. Forcing a grimace and patting his leg. "Come on, let's go to that burger place like I promised." His voice rode with positivity and choked back tears. He beckoned his head to the gear shift. "Just like I taught you."

I shifted it to park, but when he darted to the door, I snapped my hand to my own and locked it. The resounding click startled him. "Tell me what happened in New York." I looked out to the foggy windshield, solidifying our breaths in front of our eyes. The radio now played some slow, sad song.

How ironic and fitting.

He conformed to the seat. "It was about my mom." He glanced out to the window as if a script was written there. "I got taken away from my mom two days before my ninth birthday. Valentino was like six years old and we went everywhere in search of home." He hesitated, drawing a finger to his eye and wiping a casual tear. "My mom was also everywhere. Prison, rehab, homeless shelters, repeat."

I stared at him, tears at my waterline becoming heavier and itchier. I didn't know why I was crying, but something really upset him, I know that feeling. The burden of having words on your mind and you do such a good job at keeping it in the safe cavity of your heart and mind, but something so stupid unlocks that vault.

He went on and said, "I left because she got out of rehab and overdosed. Not dead, in a hospital. And we talked--'' His quivering breath interrupted his words, a shell of tears carved into his eyes. "It's sad because she didn't neglect us. She wanted to be a mom, she loves Valentino and I--and now, she's going back to rehab." His tears were one-by-one falling over the rim of his waterline and rolling down his face as his body started to shake soundlessly, fighting out to say, "she was right, the woman, Valentino's my half brother." His voice cracked.

He turned towards the door, his hands on his face, clawing at his hair stressfully as I unbuckled my seatbelt and fastened to him within seconds, embracing him. Every limb quivered and his breathing became hard and shallow, his face wet with tears, dampening the red camisole that I wore, that he picked out. As I whispered sweet nothings into his ear to soothe even a centimeter of his pain, he parted to look me in the eyes. He threatened to say without his voice cracking, "Azariah, when you end up with Sullivan, promise you won't leave me."

"I won't," I promised.

His voice cracked again and he forced a laugh to disguise it. His hand fell down to mine and he squeezed my palm while hoarsely demanding, "no, I need to hear you say it. You're like the only stable thing in my life right now and I need to hear you say it. Tell me you won't leave me, please."

"I won't leave you."

His hand scraped against mine, launching up to shield his eyes from the golden shine through the window pane. "You will," he told me amidst his hands. "You will leave me for him and there is nothing I can do to stop it and I will not hold you accountable or be mad at you for loving him. You're doing anything wrong, I am, if anything! You came to me looking for advice on how to get the guy you want and I stupidly..."

I tilted my chin lower with big eyes on him. "Stupidly did what?"

He licked his lips and shook his head, swiping his cheeks with my thumb numerous times to get rid of the tears, but the streaks of memories didn't vanish as effortlessly. "Just forget I said anything and let's go, that burger place sounds good right now. I'm starving. Now, unlock the doors." He smiled painfully wide and his eyes were trained on the windshield. "Come on, Rhy."

I hesitated, my fingertip running over the button, but I asked impulsively, "Victor, you... you do know that I umm... I kinda will never leave you? We're best friends, all the cheesy metaphors and speaking of cheesy metaphors like twin flames and peanut butter and jelly, I ate cheese at your house, so technically, I'm bound to you forever," I recalled, reminding him of that one time I stuck by in his kitchen. I remember that day like it was yesterday, but it was so fat out of my reach now.

He smiled. "And Corbett?" He cleared his throat. "What about him?"

"I--" My breathing slit. "I have to get to know him, you're teaching me how," I assured.

"Teaching you how to replace me."

Tears spilled over my waterline while I forced out two airy chuckles. "Am I rejecting you right now? It feels like I'm rejecting you!" I rambled, my vision getting distorted with streaks of yellow sunlight and his expression. "I don't want to reject you, I---" love you.

"It does appear that way, doesn't it?" he teased. "Lesson whatever number, it hurts to be rejected and I never want you to feel like this so do you know what we're gonna do? After we go for burgers, of course?" He grinned, genuine.

"What?"

"I'm going to make sure Sullivan falls in love with you so you never feel this. I don't want you to feel like you're not enough for that jackass, because he is so below your league. He is someone who I've always despised because we've always had differing opinions, but right now, right at this moment, I want him to realize that you fucking rock his world, and I'm not talking about anything sexual. You are perfectly you. Even if you find one flaw, I can assure you the world will love it, I love it--"

"--He is going to realize that you are one lovable heartbreaker, and how he is the luckiest guy on this Earth to say that he has a girl who would kiss the ground he walks on, would climb the highest mountain even if she can't climb, she'd learn, and would bend every which way, showering him in kisses for no reason but the minuscule fact that she loves him." He looked out of breath. "He is fucking lucky and if he doesn't return one ounce of that fucking energy, then I will make sure you know that down the line, one of our lessons might have to be, realizing you are capable of being better than the person you idealize..."

He concluded, "I never want you to be rejected, Princess. It fucking sucks."

I fixed myself in the driver's seat, closing my eyelids and feeling warm tears itch behind the seal. I wrapped my arms over my waist and squeezed to keep me feeling some compact, stabilizing warmth, but the coldness that blew into the car made me turn to frost.

That or his words.

I said, "I won't let you down, Vicky, but I also won't leave you, I promise you that."

x