“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
