I felt Ava squeeze my hand tightly as she had refused to let go, acting as if the bitter winter air would have taken me away. It should have been a moment where I had felt happy, where everything negative should have vanished. This, however, hadn't been the case. I had only been able to continue questioning myself and my actions, my choices and decisions. Had I made the right choice, or had I taken the wrong path once again?
The fork in the road had reared its terrifying, ugly head. Left or right, pain or happiness? Left or right, ugliness or beauty? Left or right, hatred or love? There had been two roads that began to form right as I made contact with Ava, beginning that fateful day in detention. I had taken every wrong road in my life up to that point, was I going to take the wrong one again? Or had I finally taken the proverbial correct step to the right? Only time could have told.
"Ava." I nearly whispered. "I'm going to end up hurting you, I know I will. When I finally do hurt you, no matter how badly, I want you to completely erase me from your life."
Ava shook her head as she pulled away from me, the ends of her lips curled ever so slightly. "I don't know why I'm so attracted to you, honestly. You're a reckless idiot who got into a fight over an accident. You don't have any kind of self-confidence, and you're a dumb pessimist who believes that the world is out to get him and everything he loves...I mean, you literally lack every quality a girl looks for in a guy. But..."
As she took my hands once again, Ava spun around, letting her back fall into me with my arms crossed along her chest. It had been as if she purposely brought my hands to her chest, where I could feel the quick, yet somehow still feminine racing of her heart. Had it been me? Or had it been the cold weather causing her heart rate to increase to create warmth? Her words, everything she had said of me, had been on point. I had been all of those things.
"I guess all of those things have their own redeeming qualities to them." Ava bent her head back. "Well, I guess you're pretty cute, too."
Ava let go of me and skipped forward, spinning and stopping only a few feet ahead. Her smile had been splayed across her face, once again giving her eyes the shape of a crescent moon - beautiful and elegant. I stepped forward, and she walked backwards in an almost teasing movement. I had been letting her talk the entire time as not a word had come out of me. What, exactly, had been the right thing to say at that moment in time?
I had forgotten all of it, having assumed that I never would have needed it again. Thus, I had left myself clueless, wordless to the degree of permanent silence.
"Well, now you're my idiot pessimist." Ava stopped walking backwards, her eyes taking on a stern, nearly stubborn look. "As long as I want you in my life, I'll try my damnedest to keep you in it, Aiden. I won't erase you, not even if you force me."
"If you say so." I replied as I continued following her to the door.
"I know so."
Ava, once again, stopped. This time, however, she had the metal door behind her. She hadn't moved, nor had she looked away from me. It was just us, together, looking at one another on the roof of a hospital building. I lowered myself to eye level with her, blocking any escape route that she had by pushing my hands against the wall. As though my wounds had become distant memories, I had only focused on her, and her alone.
"I'm sorry about th..."
With her index finger pressed against my lip, she had hushed me as quickly as I had begun. "It isn't last week, right now. It isn't that moment, right now. That is the past, and this is the present, Aiden. Just leave all of it there, where it belongs."
Before she had a chance to think, I slightly tilted my head and went for the kill right away. Our lips had made contact, and my tongue had soon followed. It had taken a few seconds for her to regain her focus and then reciprocate, but she had eventually done so - responding to my sudden invasion of her space.
A story for the ages, or a nightmare for generations? Had this first kiss been the beginning of a fun story to tell others in the future? Or had it opened a book full of brand new nightmares for myself? Had this been a one and only? Would I have more? Could I paint a portrait of our lives, or would I find myself wallowing in my familiar old hole? Was this a new beginning, or a new beginning to an old ending?
Pulling my lips away to catch my breath, I pressed my forehead against her own. "Let me finish my sentences, and then you might be ready for it next time."
With her freezing hands pressed against the sides of my neck, Ava, likewise, softly exhaled a breath of warm air before speaking in a breathy, nearly muted huskiness. "...Who ever said that I wanted to be ready for it?"
---
A quick few days had passed, through Christmas and into New Year's Eve. This had been a day in which the local teenagers took to the streets, partying freely without a care for anyone or anything, cops or parents. The streets on that night would turn into a gigantic mix of everything - sex, drugs, fights, murder, and whatever else one had been able to think up.
I stood in a faintly lit, barren parking lot, smoking one of the many joints I had brought with me. As hoards, among hoards of teenagers passed by, they took glances at me. It was in return to their glances that I glared, as though I had been trying to burn a hole through them with only my eyes. I had been especially edgy through the entirety of that day, and I had no answer for it, not one. Zilch.
"Hey, faggot!" one of the men separated himself from his pack of friends. "The fuck you lookin' at?"
"I should be asking you the same." I stepped forward as well, not planning on back down. "I'll rip your larynx out of that bitchy, prig throat of yours."
He had stared for a moment, as though his slow brain had needed a minute to the process the difficult words I had thrown at him. Put simply, this hot-headed teenager's face had perfectly reflected just how stupid he had really been. He had been a run-of-the-mill high school dropout without a single brain cell left. Alcohol and hard hits to the head had done their job, for once.
"Do somethin', bro!" he pushed forward, now only inches from me. "You all talk?"
"I'm not." I replied, smiling as I inhaled the smoke from my joint. "I just want give you a fair chance, that's all."
By using a subtle mix of calmness and arrogance, I had rattled his cage just enough for him to start the fight. If it had been at all possible, I would have had liked to not spend the night in a jail cell, or anywhere close to one, for that matter. I had let the silence be my friend, as his buddies continued to pressure him into fighting. It had been nothing but the aimless, useless male pride and ego that had existed in us all.
As unfortunate as it had been for him, I had no longer held any pride within me. I had thrown it all away in the garbage with the rest of my life. This had left me with two options, to fight or not to fight. I had nothing to lose, nor did I have anything to gain from fighting him. It would have only been a fight for the sole purpose of ego.
As if by fate, a long, dark arm had slipped in between us, splitting up what had almost been a one-sided fight. "Slow down, my man." the deep, baritone voice spoke.
"This fuckin' nigga' thinking he got shit." the idiot jock replied.
I glanced to my right, where I had been greeted by the sight of an old that I hadn't seen in quite some time. Quite obviously annoyed, he smiled as he studied the Caucasian teen. "You're the whitest fuckin' nigga' I've ever seen. Just get the fuck out of here before you get hurt, you damn wannabe."
For reasons unknown, the young man stepped back and finally turned, heading back to his friends. He turned to me, smiling a friendly smile, just before he held his hand out. I grabbed his hand in return, only to be surprised with the patting of his hand on my back.
"It's been a fuckin' minute, man." Mack spoke as he pulled away. "I haven't seen you since the day before Kylie's funeral."
Hitting the joint, I pulled it away from my lips and offered it to him. "It has, it has. Where the hell did you disappear to?"
"I guess you wouldn't know since you turned into a recluse, but I was sent to some bullshit reformatory for something I didn't even do." Mack slightly coughed as he exhaled the smoke. "Shit, what about you, Cyrus? I barely even recognized you with all them tats' and that hair."
"Shits happened, obviously." I laughed. "I'm d--"
I had been interrupted by a feminine voice, soft as a fresh pillow and as quiet as a motionless night.
"Hey, there."
ns 15.158.61.8da2
