Chapter 5
five
SASHA
Everything looks so… normal. I don’t know what I expected Claire’s room to look like, but it wasn’t this.
For whatever reason, I thought it would reflect the mental state of someone who had just gone through something so terrible. But it looks like a normal room.
Like she isn’t a stranger to pain.
Her bed sheets are clean, smelling of fresh laundry and whatever perfume she wears on a daily basis. Her desk is neatly organized, with books and makeup laid out like she was expecting company.
Pretty sure when she had people over last night, she wasn’t expecting a drunk girl to crash in her bed.
Flashes from last night hit me, and I cringe, horrified by how drunk I got. I’m not that person, I don’t drink at parties, and I definitely don’t drink to avoid my problems.
But looking at her last night, seeing how okay she was, it broke something inside me.
I don’t even know why I came here, maybe because I needed to see for myself what life looked like for everyone else. What would life look like if I were just another girl attending college and going to parties?
Maybe I wanted one night where I wasn’t Jurian’s sister, or Nathan’s friend… maybe I just wanted to be close to Johnny.
And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from slinking back into the shadows that bring so much pain, and yet so much comfort. I stood back and watched her with her friends, laughing and singing along to music while I crumbled.
How could someone be so resilient?
Everyone was going about their life like nothing had happened, and I guess to most of them… nothing had. To them, today was just like every other day, no one had died, no one had crushed their spirit, and no one had left them alone in this world.
My fingers graze the soft wood of her desk as I look around at the rest of her room, slowly falling in love with how perfectly imperfect it is. Put together, yet chaotic.
It’s a mix of beautiful blues and soft yellows, pale pinks and bright green. Colour is everywhere, like she bleeds life into whatever space she enters.
But that’s the kind of girl she is. She’s the ray of sunshine that lights up a room, she’s the sound of birds chirping in the morning, she’s the shooting star that grants people’s wishes.
I catch a glimpse of myself in her mirror, messy hair, smudged eyeliner and the red lipstick I love so much smeared across my cheek.
The one thing that doesn’t belong here is me. Not in this room, not in this house, and definitely not in any of their lives.
They would hate me if they knew who I am.
Grabbing the makeup wipes off her desk, I peel them open and wipe away the remnants of last night, hoping that when I go downstairs, no one is there to see me.
They saw you last night, idiot.
I make it halfway to the front door before I notice everyone staring at me. I squeak, startled by their presence, before lowering my head. “I’m so sorry about all this. I don’t know what happened last night. I never do things like that.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Claire says. She’s too kind, if she knew anything about me, she’d probably regret her hospitality.
The feeling of their eyes on me makes me want to crawl into a hole and die, it causes the itch to come back.
They’re looking at me, but are they really seeing me? Are they seeing the pain that’s so close to the surface I feel like is going to pour out of me any second now? Are they seeing the guilt for not stopping Nathan that night?
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what night it happened, and I was there.
I was fucking there that night and I didn’t do anything.
I was too consumed in my own grief to notice anything else going on around me.
I was angry with Nathan, he chose her over me, and I guess I finally had enough of being the second choice, so I left.
I fucking left him there with her.
Finally looking up, I make eye contact with Johnny. He looks at me with so much concern that I wonder if he can hear my thoughts. He’s never looked at me like this before, never for this long, and definitely not with this much emotion.
I start to scratch at my wrist, angry red marks sure to pop up in the next little while as I turn my gaze away from the boy I like, and towards Claire. “I’m just kinda going through something right now, and I guess alcohol was my way of coping.”
Going through something, yeah, going through a lot actually.
Dead brother, dead friend, my ex-best friend raped the girl who gave me a place to sleep last night, and my dad can barely look at me.
Lucas St. James stares daggers at me, and I duck my head again.
Claire’s head snaps towards him, glaring and telling him to be nice before reaching out a hand with a bottle of water. “You gonna be okay to get home?”
I grab it from her, nodding once and running out of there like my ass is on fire, but before I close the door behind me, I look back at Johnny. His lips are tilted into a small smile, his eyes glittering with something I’m not sure I know how to explain.
It’s an hour walk home, an hour to mull over every single poor decision I made last night. An hour to sketch that stupid smile into my brain forever, because I doubt he’ll ever look at me that way again.
“Sasha!” Mom yells after me, “why don’t you wait for your Dad, and he can drive you to class?”
I stop on the driveway, “that’s okay, I like the fresh air.”
And being in a closed-off space together is uncomfortable for both of us.
Her eyes dim a bit, making me flinch.
I’ve spent the last two months walking everywhere I go, no matter how far it is. I would rather walk two hours than get into a car for the first time since the accident.
She takes a few steps towards me, grabbing my hand and squeezing tight. “Text me when you get to campus,” she pauses for a moment. “I worry about you, my love.”
I squeeze her hand back, “I always make it, don’t I?”
Even when I shouldn’t.
Her hand reaches up, twirling my hair between her fingers. “Your brother would have loved your hair like this…”
He would have said I was trying to copy him, mocked me endlessly with a huge, goofy grin on his face.
“I’ll see you later for dinner, I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The walk to class isn’t as bad as some might think, the roads are relatively quiet, and the weather hasn’t taken a turn for the worse. The sun shines down on me, and for a second, I stop and soak it in.
After yesterday, I want nothing more than to be left alone. The shame is enough to make me thankful that no one will remember who I am. I’ll just be another face when we pass each other on campus, the same as it’s always been.
For the first time, I truly hope Johnny doesn’t see me today. Funny, because that’s all I’ve wanted for months now.
When I make it to campus, I pull out that old iPod and plug the headphones into my ears. I listen to Taylor Swift, putting Jurian’s favourite song on repeat.
People pass, laughing with their friends, talking about unimportant things, and living their lives.
One boy throws a football on a patch of grass, smiling at his friends. Two girls giggle on the steps of the library, looking down at their phones. A couple of teachers gather across the walkway, sipping coffee and talking about the grades of their students.
A girl sits on a bench, reading a book, completely unaware of the boy sitting next to her. He stares at her like she created the stars themselves. I wonder how long he’s loved her. A year? Maybe his whole life?
Despite his longing gaze, I can tell he’s happy just to be near her, even if she doesn’t know he exists.
I walk closer to them, stumbling slightly. The boy grabs my hand, keeping me from hitting the girl. She looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, and finally looks to the boy next to her. I’m forgotten as she thanks him, scooting closer when he starts a conversation.
A smile graces my lips for the first time in weeks, they won’t remember the girl who gave them a chance, nor will they know that the girl didn’t trip by accident.
I guess being invisible isn’t bad all the time…
Call me a hopeless romantic or whatever, but I love seeing people fall in love. There’s just something so special about seeing the start of something so… extraordinary.
The world is bleak and grey, but I try to bring a little sunshine to it when I can.
Suddenly, someone jogs in front of me and stops. I almost hit them, cursing under my breath as I go to move around them.
They grab my arm, alarm bells ring in my head as I look up and rip out of their grasp.
A pair of bright green eyes widen. Johnny Davis starts to apologize, but I can’t hear him with my music blasting. Yanking out my headphones, I catch the last bit of his ramble, “—didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What?” I ask shakily.
Holy fucking shit. Johnny Davis is speaking to me.
And he’s so god damn tall. He’s at least half a foot taller than me, if not more. “Sorry, I was just saying I didn’t mean to startle you.” An easy grin slides onto his face, making my palms sweat and my heart race.
The sound of blood rushing in my ears is so loud, I have to take a couple of breaths to calm myself.
Please don’t remember me, please don’t remember me.
“Sasha, right?” He asks, trying to fill the silence when I don’t say anything.
I just stare at him. Stare at the black hair that he drags his hands through, pushing it back the way Jurian used to. I stare at the green eyes that I’ve dreamt about for so long, stare at the way his lips move as he talks.
Stop being a creep.
It hits me then that he knows my name, which means he also probably remembers my very embarrassing show last night.
You’re still staring, idiot. Say something.
“Sasha, yes.”
Johnny chuckles, “I just wanted to check in on you and see if you’re doing alright.”
My walls fly up so fast, I can physically feel myself recoil from the question. “Yes,” I mutter, “I’m okay.”
You’re a dirty liar.
He eyes me, but doesn’t move to say anything else. We both stand there in awkward silence until I make the decision to walk away. I get two steps away from him when his hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist.
His eyes widen again, “I- I uh.”
Wow, is it possible that he might actually be nervous right now?
I stare up at him, expectant and hopeful for what he’s about to say, trying so hard to tamp down my stupid, illogical feelings.
Johnny clears his throat, “do you want to go get coffee today after class?”
Hold on.
What?
“What?” I ask, voicing my inner thoughts.
He scratches his neck —using the hand not currently gripping onto me for dear life— and blushes. Actually fucking blushes. “It’s just, you said you were going through some stuff the other day, and August made this comment after you left-“
“What comment?”
“We couldn’t find anyone who knew you after we put you in Claire’s room, so he thought that maybe you came to the party alone and didn’t have any friends.”
Ouch. I mean, they aren’t wrong, but hearing how utterly alone I am out loud hurts.
Tears prickle the back of my eyes, and he must notice because he instantly starts to panic. “Sorry. Fuck. That came out completely wrong. I didn’t- it’s just that-“
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
He hangs his head, “no, it’s really not. I’m sorry for being a dick, but I really would like to get coffee, even though I wouldn’t blame you for telling me to fuck off after that,” he mutters the last part to himself.
My heart leaps, feeling like maybe it’s more than just a pity invite. He seems genuinely remorseful, and even though I’m most definitely going to make a complete fool out of myself somehow, I want to take the chance.
“I’m done class at three,” I tell him.
His head snaps up with a massive smile, his white teeth on full display as my heart constricts. He’s so effortlessly perfect.
He looks down at me, pulling out his phone and thrusting it in my direction, “put your number in.”
I triple-check that I put in the right number before handing it back to him, trying hard to keep my hands from shaking.
He starts backing away, “See you soon, Little Pixie.”
Little Pixie?
“Oh, and I hope you’re feeling better today. Cleaning up Claire’s bathroom really sucked.” He turns and jogs off before he has the chance to see me internally combust.
I totally forgot about puking all over her bathroom.
God, I’m never going to be able to show my face again.
Even as I slowly die inside, I can’t help but let that little piece of my heart hope. Johnny Davis remembers me. He knows who I am.