And so, each time you felt her absence, the emptiness of that home, all those roots embedded so deeply within you being torn to shreds at her departure, it would finally dawn on you why storms were named after people.
Because after all, that was what Carmen was. A hurricane. The type that came with a beating heart trapped inside it.
Traces of the havoc she’d wreaked were evident in every silent ride back home from school, in the absence of the smell of paint mixing with the scent of his watermelon gum, in the way he wanted to tell her about how he had to skip the scene of Sirius Black’s death again even though this was probably his hundredth time reading the series.
Sometimes Asa would be so lost in thought that he’d see her across the hallway and almost wrap his arms around her from behind before burying his face into the crook of her neck. Almost.
But he’d always catch himself in time. And then the realisation would hit him as if it was the first time all over again: She wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t in love with him. She wasn’t in love with him.
And even though Asa could swear on his life that his heart had already been shattered into smithereens, he’d feel something in him break a little more.
•••
After helping Wyatt with his training for the meet during after-school practises, Asa found himself walking back towards the main school building to grab his bag from the locker as Wyatt waved goodbye and got into his car to head back home.
Asa turned down the hallway, so used to the directions by now that he didn’t even have to watch where he was going. He’d just gotten his bag and was about to walk away, when he heard a commotion from the direction of the boys’ locker room.
Recognising most of the aggravated voices, Asa approached the small crowd that had gathered there, choosing not to make his presence that obvious as he observed the scene with a frown.
“…was my call!” Hunter’s icy tone was one that Asa would recognise anywhere, even if he didn’t hear the entire thing he’d just said.
“Says who?” a boy who was a foot shorter than Hunter, but a little broader, with a scowl firmly etched onto his face, snarled back.
Asa recognised him as the quarterback. It suddenly dawned on him that this was probably the one who’d managed to throw a punch at Hunter a few months back. He probably wouldn’t get so lucky the second time around. Hunter wasn’t the kind to let someone catch him off guard twice.
“Says my fucking title as team captain,” Hunter spat back, balling his fists and squaring his shoulders but not stepping closer in a threatening manner that would’ve implied he was looking for a fight.
Asa didn’t want to believe Hunter was holding back, that he was actually showing self-restraint. But he also couldn’t deny something that was as obvious as daylight.
“You keep undermining me in front of the team every single chance you get!” Hunter hissed at the other guy. “I’m not going to just watch you ruin everything I’ve worked my ass off to achieve because you’ve got some complex problem. It’s senior year, college scouts are going to be there, and I’m sick of you trying to challenge every word that comes out of my mouth.”
“Yeah, and I’m sick of you looking down on me all the time but you don’t hear me complaining, do you? So why don’t you just run along and go cry to your mum about it.”
Hunter visibly froze at the insult, his face draining of all colour.
The words weren’t aimed at Asa, obviously, but he held his breath anyway, feeling the secondhand punch to the gut that the blow of that remark would’ve undoubtedly thrown at Hunter.
Asa didn’t know much, but from what little Carmen had said, he knew enough to be certain that the death of Hunter’s mother was a sore topic—especially that he’d lost both of them.
And then it all happened in really slow motion.
Hunter shook off that brief moment of stunned silence, and then one of his fists was raised into the air.
“The coach threatened to bench me during the final game of this season if something like that happened again.”
Hunter’s words were suddenly fresh in Asa’s memory, as if that conversation had only taken place yesterday and not a few months back.
“Can’t have that, not with all those scouts attending.”
Asa’s muscles tensed as he watched Hunter’s fist drop lower and lower, every millisecond feeling like they were minutes instead.
Hunter deserved to get benched if he loved the sport so much. He did. How many students had he been merciless towards before?
How many long-lasting scars must he have inflicted and on how many people? Didn’t he deserve to lose what was probably one of the handful of things he actually gave a shit about? Didn’t Hunter deserve a dose of his own medicine?
But then Asa was suddenly in a chair in the principal’s office with his parents by his side and he could hear Hendrickson’s voice as the words floated around in his head: “However, you’re no longer allowed to take part in this year’s interstate swimming meet.”
The memory dissolved into nothingness, blending into the scene currently playing out right in front of Asa’s eyes.
None of the other boys seemed to be doing anything, and even though he didn’t understand why, Asa’s feet were suddenly moving towards them.
He managed to get in between Hunter and the other guy, fast enough to place his palm on the other guy’s chest and shove him out of the way to break up what would’ve led to a fight, but Asa wasn’t fast enough to jump away himself or dodge the punch