CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
ALEXANDRA JONES
AFTER COFFE, I HEAD TO COLLEGE TO HAND IN MY PRESENTATION AFTER CHANGING IT ON THE BUS. Ares offered to take me, but we need to take everything slow…and he agreed. I still couldn’t believe I wasn’t a virgin, this entire time…I thought I was innocent and all, but it turns out to be the complete opposite. Everyone lied to me, Catherine- my parents. I’ll give Joey a pass because well, he’s Joey and you can’t be that mad at him. After the conversation Ares and I had, it’s opened up a lot of feelings. He knew me. He knew me before I even knew myself.
I slide out of the bus and walk down campus, pushing the hairs behind my ears as the wind blew it forward. I hold onto my sketchbook, excited to show Mrs Toffee everything I drew. I promised her I’d get it before Friday. And that’s exactly what I did.
I feel my phone vibrate as I enter the college and slide it out to see a message from Ares.
Ares (12:37pm): come to the tattoo place after
Alexandra (12:37pm): okay x
I look up and see Catherine leaning against my locker, our eyes lock, and she pushes herself up from the floor. The weight of her presence brings back a flood of emotions, but I try my best to remain composed. I turn around, trying to walk away, but she catches up with me and grabs onto my arm in attempt to slow me down.
I turn and push her back away from me, the fury in my eyes matching the intensity of my words. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I warn her, the once lively hallway now hushed in silence.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible amidst the quiet.
I shake my head at her, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Sorry? You’re sorry?” I scoff at her, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “Fuck you and your sorry. I don’t want to ever see you again, do you understand?”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she pleads with me. “Please, Alexandra...”
“You’re nothing but an insecure, thoughtless, and selfish person who only cares about themselves,” I continue, my voice steady but laced with pain. “And you’re a liar...how dare you keep that from me?”
“I wanted to tell you,” she stammers, her own pain evident in her eyes.
“No, you didn’t,” I retort, my heart aching with the betrayal. “You were jealous, and you only care about what involves you. Nothing else matters. And until you learn that the world does not revolve around you, don’t even think about coming to me to apologise. I will never, ever forgive you.”
“Please Alex, please let me just explain it all-.”
“And if you ever lay your hand on me again, I’ll break it,”
With that, I turn away from her and continue my way down to the art department. The tears are now streaming down my cheeks, but a part of me feels a sense of relief. I’ve finally spoken my truth and stood up for myself, but why did it feel so wrong? Why did it all feel so wrong? I slowly turn my head around and see her crying into someone’s chest.
Now I felt all the guilt.
As I step into the art room, Mrs. Toffee looks up from her desk with a warm smile. “Well, you’re back,” she chuckles, taking the sketchbook and presentation from my hands.
“Thank you,” I say with a small smile.
“Is everything alright, love?” She asks, her caring eyes studying me.
I nod, trying my best to hide the emotions swirling inside me. “Everything is fine. Just dealing with some personal stuff, but I’ll be okay.”
She places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You know, you can always talk to me if you need someone to listen. Sometimes sharing your thoughts can lighten the burden.” I distracted myself by counting how many paintbrushes were stuck in her bun, all so that I wouldn’t cry nor feel upset.
“I appreciate that, Mrs. Toffee,” I reply, genuinely touched by her offer. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
With a nod, I turn to leave the art room, making my way out of the college. As I step outside, I’m surprised to see Ares leaning against his car with arms folded. He looks up and our eyes meet. There’s a mixture of emotions in his gaze, but he remains stoic. I raise a brow, looking around to see some girls staring at him. Ignoring their glances, I walk towards him.
“What are you doing here? I was going to come to you,” I say as I reach him.
“I know,” he replies simply. “Come on.”
I hop into the car, and he reverses out before heading in the direction of the tattoo shop. As we drive, I take the chance to steal glances at him. His jaw is tense, and it’s evident that he’s trying to maintain his composure.
“I argued with Cathy,” I finally admit, feeling a need to share what’s bothering me.
“What? Seriously?” Ares looks surprised, and perhaps concerned.
I nod my head. “Yeah. Before you came to my room, we had this whole argument, and she said a few things that hurt me... and pushed me really hard.”
“The blood on your fingers,” he says, and I remember the pain in my hands from the earlier incident. He stops in front of the tattoo shop.
I nod, looking down at my hands. “Yeah.” We exit the car, and he takes my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. “Does your boss not get annoyed that I’m here half the time?” He chuckles, looking down at me as he pushes the door open.
“I don’t think he has a problem with it,” he answers, I look down at our hands. They fit perfectly. Almost as if they’re made for one another. And my cold hands were levelled with his warmth.
“How do you know, though?” I ask, as he leads me down the hall.
“Because I own the place,” he reveals with a smile, his eyes meeting mine.
“Seriously?” I’m taken aback, not expecting that as we enter the room.
He nods, his grin widening. “Seriously. It’s mine.”
I’m impressed and a little surprised by his ownership of the tattoo shop. Ares always had an air of mystery around him, and now I’m discovering more layers to the man I’ve grown to care for.
“Wow,” I respond, genuinely amazed. “That’s pretty cool.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s just a business, but I like it.”
He slides of his jacket, chucking it onto the couch as I stand awkwardly in the empty room.
“So, what did you want me here for?”
Ares points to the artwork hung on the wall, depicting a woman with butterflies surrounding her. The same one from the day we met-or should I say ‘I met’ him.
“It’s you,” he reveals.
My eyes widen in shock, and I find myself speechless for a moment. “What...?” I whisper, trying to process what he just said.
“You understood it so well because you’re the one who drew it.” Ares explains, a hint of pride in his voice. I take a step forward, closer to the painting, and examine it with newfound wonder. “Not me.”
As I scrutinise the details, it starts to become clearer. The woman in the painting resembles me, not just physically but in the subtle nuances of her expression. The butterflies, a recurring motif in my art, swirl around her like a dance of freedom.
“I painted this?” I say, my voice filled with disbelief.
Ares nods, his gaze soft and encouraging. “Yes, you did. It’s one of your best creations. You’ve always had a deep connection with butterflies, and your art reflects that.”
I’m in awe of the painting and how it captures a part of myself that I had forgotten. It’s as if the artwork holds a piece of my soul, and I feel a sense of intimacy with it that I can’t explain.
“How did I not notice?” I murmur, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me.
I slowly graze my finger over the signature on the bottom, my signature. Tears well up in my eyes, and a heavy weight settles in my chest. This is harder than I thought. Memories and emotions flood back, overwhelming me, and I feel lost in the storm of my own mind.
I turn around, facing Ares, who stands beside me with concern etched on his face. His eyes meet mine, and he sees the pain that I can’t put into words. I try to hold it all together, but the floodgates burst open, and I can’t contain my emotions any longer.
Without hesitation, I wrap my arms around his waist, seeking comfort in his embrace. My sobs escape, and I don’t care how I sound or look. All that matters is the overwhelming sense of loss and confusion consuming me.
Ares holds me close, his arms a safe haven amid the turmoil. He strokes my hair gently, offering silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone. But the pain is too raw, and I can’t find the words to express what’s tearing me apart inside.
“I know this is hard Angel, we don’t have to-”
I shake my head, gently pulling away from him. “No, I want to.”
I drag my thumb across his lips, there was only one thing for certain about everything. I knew that I was falling for Ares.
And I don’t need my old memories to know that.
We ended up on the couch, eating takeaway Chinese while talking about old memories, reminiscing about the past. Between mouthfuls of noodles, I couldn’t help but laugh at some of the stories he shared.
“God, I was funny, huh?” I chuckle, and he rolls his eyes playfully.
“Annoying is more like it,” he teases, and I lightly hit his arm.
“Tell me one more thing, something about myself that I wouldn’t believe now.” I almost begged him, feeling curiosity about the girl I used to be. It felt weird hearing the stories from my own life.
A mischievous glint appears in his eyes as he sets down his chopsticks. He leans closer, his lips almost brushing against my ear.
“You liked rough sex.”