16 | blueberry and lemon

One of the hardest things to do is deciding whether to walk away or try harder.

- Unknown

________________________

- L I L A -

The one person I never would've expected to see again was her. Leaning against the hood of my car, I watched as she continued to talk with Greg, or talk to. Greg's focus was elsewhere, and he was trying to get away from her.

Apparently, Vanessa decided to move back here and just had to enrol in the same high school that we went to. Finding it almost pathetic at her attempts to get Greg's attention, I focused on Greg.

Following his gaze away from Vanessa, my eyes landed on Yasmine playing basketball with Carter - the quarterback of the football team - who could not stop smiling.

I knew what it looked like to Greg, but I couldn't muster up any sympathy for him. It had been two days since school started, and it seemed that Yasmine was beginning to move on.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see Matthew over the Christmas break since he was with his brother in Atlanta. And although he called every day for the past two weeks, all I wanted was to actually see him since he hadn't come to school.

My eyes were taken off Yasmine once I saw Isaac walk through the gate. Other than noticing the fact that he had cut his hair, a frown appeared on my facial features at the deep frown he was sporting. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were stained with red.

As he walked past me, I hooked my hand around his wrist, pulling him back. "You've been avoiding me all Christmas break, I even called you on New Years — what happened to us being friends?"

Staring at the hand that was holding his wrist, he gave me a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "it's just a lot has been going on for the past couple days; how are you?"

"I should be asking you that question," I responded, my green eyes holding sympathy. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, tightening his hold on his bag strap. "No," keeping silent for a while, he watched me with pale blue eyes. "But I could use your help with something later on, if you don't mind?"

Watching him closely, I smiled softly. "I'd love to help you."

Ever since that night, talking to Isaac was a lot easier knowing that he didn't have feelings for me. For the first couple of days of the Christmas break, he was good company, and we actually had fun.

"Thanks." He spoke, pulling his wrist from my grasp and heading towards the office.

Grabbing Matthew's Christmas present from the bonnet of my car, I grinned as Katherine's car pulled up, Matthew getting out.

"Matthew!"

His head perked up, and a warm grin adorned his face as he placed his cane on the floor, opening his arms. Quickly advancing towards him, I jumped into his arms, wounding my arms around his neck as he held me close, hugging me to his body.

"God, I missed you so much." Placing me down on my feet, he leaned in and attempted to kiss me, missing by an inch and kissing my chin.

Laughing, I readjusted and positioned my lips over his. "There," I whispered softly, grinning and kissing him again.

Katherine offered me a warm smile, and brought her hand up into a short wave. "Happy New Years, Lila."

I returned the pleasantries and linked my hands into Matthew's, sighing at the comfort his hold gave me. Once Katherine had left, Matthew pulled me back into a hug and nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. "Words can't explain how much I've missed you." He mumbled against my skin, pressing a hand to the small of my back.

Pulling back, he directed a rakish grin my way. "How about that New Years kiss?"

---

"Why do I feel a sense of déjà vu?" Yasmine questioned, grinning at Matthew and I.

Matthew let go of my hands and pushed his glasses further up his nose. I gently chucked the chopsticks on my tray, opting to take Matthew's fork. "Because Lila still hasn't gotten the hang of using chopsticks." Matthew cheekily responded, leaning back in his chair with his arm around my shoulder.

"It's a hopeless cause," I dramatically sighed, twisting the cap from my water bottle. "I can't use chopsticks to save my life."

Spotting Greg proceeding towards our table, I cleared my throat and turned my gaze to Yasmine. "Ex-boyfriend alert."

She rolled her eyes and perched her chin on the palm of her hand. "He's been trying to get a hold of me all Christmas. He doesn't want to accept the fact that I'm not his girlfriend anymore."

Once he was at her side, she straightened out her back, her lips pursing. "What do you want?" she snapped, iciness in her tone.

He fumbled with his fingers and looked down at her. "Can I speak to you?" he asked, glancing towards Matthew and me. "Alone?"

She stared up at him with a blank expression. "What have you got to say to me that is worth listening to?" she muttered, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. "We're over, Greg. Just make it easier for both of us by letting go."

His eyes clouded with tears that had yet to fall. "Yasmine... I can't — I won't."

"You're the one who kissed that girl, and because of you, every time I see her, she just laughs." Yasmine pointed to her and grimaced. "Look at her looking all smug."

Turning my eyes to where she was pointing to, a gasp was elicited from my mouth, my eyes wide at the sight of Vanessa. "You kissed Vanessa?!"

Matthew straightened up and bit his lip to mask his disgust for his ex-girlfriend. "The man-eater strikes again." He muttered under his breath, annoyed. "Good luck with trying to get out of her clutches."

Seeing her distraught state, I knew that she was done talking to him as she allowed her curly hair to curtain her face. "Greg," I spoke out, averting my gaze towards him. "Just go."

He stared at Yasmine for a while before tearing his eyes away from her, turning on his heel to go back to his friends.

"God," Matthew huffed out, clenching his fist. "I can't stand Vanessa. She's going to make my life a nightmare by going to school here."

Yasmine abruptly stood up, and shot me and Matthew a soft smile. "I'm going to go study for English, see you guys later."

Turning to Matthew, I placed a gentle had on his cheek, caressing his cheek tenderly. "Don't let her get to you, it's been over a year."

He turned his head and placed soft kisses on my palm, curling his fingers around my wrist. "The only person on my mind is you, babe."

_____

"So, I don't know how to say this without crying," Isaac's teeth latched onto his bottom lip, his eyebrows drawn close. "But, she would've been 7 today." His voice cracked, and he turned away from me, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

The sob clogged his throat, a desperate intake of oxygen coming from him as he tried not to cry in front of me. Reaching for his other hand, I squeezed it in a platonic way, frowning. I guessed he was talking about his dead sister: Alex.

"Isaac," I spoke softly, my tone sympathetic. "It's okay to cry."

Stopping the car, I looked at our surroundings as a chill surged down my spine. Isaac sniffed and wiped his eyes, which was no use since the tears kept on coming. "I visit her grave everyday," he ran a hair through his blonde hair. "And every time isn't any easier."

As he opened the door, I took it as my cue to exit with him, his blue eyes boring into mine. "I normally have my dad with me, but I think he'd rather be here with my mom."

My heart went out to him, a deep frown wedged on my face. "I'm here for you, Isaac."

He offered me a grateful smile, a tear rolling down his cheeks. "She was so full of life," he began, resting on the bonnet of his car. "She was a happy kid, and so full of love. Sometimes, I wish I-I died instead of her."

He paused and whimpered quietly, his shoulders trembling. "She had her whole life ahead of her; she had barely started living before she died, at least I would've lived some of mine."

Walking to his side of the car, I sat beside him and laid my hand atop of his. I never really knew what to say in situations like that, so I remained silent and allowed him to carry on talking.

"Christmas was always her favourite day, and after she would open her presents, I'd take her to her favourite ice cream place. I'd say to her: 'Alex, you can have as much ice cream as you want, if you don't tell Mom.'" He turned to me, and laughed shakily.

"My mom would always know, though because Alex never wanted any dinner. But, she'd never tell me off because she knew I'd do anything to make Alex happy." His body began to shake and his facial expression contorted into one of utter sorrow and pain. "She was my little sister, I can't believe she's gone."

Pulling him into a hug, I held him tightly, feeling my body tremble slightly because of the strength of his. He cried into my shoulder, gripping onto me as if he was too scared that he would lose it if he didn't have a shoulder to cry on.

"It's okay, Isaac. I'm here." I ran my hand through his hair, feeling my own eyes cloud over because of his emotional state.

His cries were so raw, the pain was so clear in every intake and tremor. He sounded so utterly broken. I could see crystal clear how much his sister meant to him.

I rocked him softly back and forth, soothing him tenderly as he broke down, his tears staining my shirt. After a while, Isaac pulled back, his eyes bloodshot and his cheeks stained with tears.

"Lila, I can't explain how much you being here means to me," his voice was scratchy, his lips slightly chapped. It was almost as if he had exhausted the limit of water coming from his body just by crying. "It makes it easier for me to cope when I think about you."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my cheek. "You're practically the only person I can be vulnerable around. I guess being around you is a lot easier when I'm not in love with you."

I gave him a soft smile. "We may not have been good together in that way, but we can become good friends once everything is perfect."

He laughed humourlessly, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I don't think there is a moment where everything is perfect, because moments never are." He smiled the first sincere smile since that night. "It's the people you're with that make it seem perfect."

Understanding what he had said, I nodded my head.

Perfection was an illusion. An illusion I could only hope was real, because a person once said: 'all it takes is one not-so-perfect moment to have everything crashing down.'