Time, wondrous time
Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies
invisible strings
"Oops, sorry!"
I apologize for fumbling through the hallways and bumping into one of the pupils as I make my way to Mrs. Diana's office.
A new student has arrived, and she wants me to escort him, show him the campus, and explain the daily protocols of our high school. Perhaps it's because I'm her preferred mentor and she's my favorite tutor, or maybe it's the promise of a recommendation letter to one of her old colleagues at the university I wish to apply to.
Nevertheless, Inez has been texting me all day, and I finally pick up the phone, responding to her nonstop messages.
"Hello?" I say, still adjusting since I had no time this morning to prepare due to my restless night.
"Betty! Where have you been?" Inez's voice crashes into my ear, almost causing a breakdown. "You said you'd help me with my lab report this morning," she exclaims.
Damn, I totally forgot.
I take a long pause, holding the phone without uttering a word. "Betty, did the cat get your tongue? Where are you? Answer me!" she demands louder.
I bite my lip, abashed. Just tell her something, Betty!
I'm not a good liar, especially when it comes to Inez, my old and closest childhood friend. She knows me too well and can detect anything wrong with her keen observational skills, even if I wore an iron mask.
Screw it! I'll just tell her the truth.
"Inez, I'm so sorry," the phrase slips through my mouth like venomous poison. "I totally forgot..." I admit shamefully.
She inhales slowly, as if ready to sue me. "It's okay," she replies nicely instead. "I know a lot has been going on in your life lately, so I totally understand if your little mind overshadowed that you need to aid your only friend with her stupid lab report," she rants, not knowing if she's being understanding or judgmental.
I remain silent through the call, letting her talk when all of a sudden, I see him popping up in front of me out of nowhere.
"Inez, I'm so sorry, but I've got to hang up. James is here," I say, ready to end the call.
"Oh, good luck then," she states calmly before adding, "I'll call you later."
"Goodbye," I hang up, sharing a quick glimpse with James, king of my heart. It's enough to make him hurry over to me. It's inevitable.
He approaches towards me with a delightful beam traced on his face, while I stand there like a ghost. I quickly adjust myself, ready to confront him.
"Betty!" his charming voice lingers in my ears like a soft breeze. He plants a little kiss on my temple the moment he embraces me.
"Hey..." I say faintly, struggling to smile back normally after he lets me go. "How are you doing?"
"More than lucky to see you! What about you, love?" he mutters so poetically and gently that a part inside me aches after avoiding him at school and not answering his messages for the last few days. Allegedly pretending to be sick.
"I'm feeling better..." I cross my arms, gently rub my collar with my hand, forcing the words out without holding proper eye contact with him.
He doesn't break his grin. "Let's go to lunch. We can plan to watch a movie later or just come hang out at my place and write with me. I missed you." He asks me for a date, but I just cannot do it. I know that he is my boyfriend but I just can't. Not now. A thing about me is that the more I pretend, the more I rot inside.
"Actually… I need to go mentor someone through the school now, and Inez already reserved me for tonight, so…" I say, though half of what I said was true, but the other half was totally fabricated. I wonder how convincing I seemed.
He tilts his head with a sad curl on his lips, then gently holds me and drags me to the nearby locked closets. He brushes his calloused hand through my braids, tracing circles in my face with his thumb. I blink repeatedly, avoiding looking at him too much, fearing he'll discover something strange beyond the oddities I already try not to show.
"My dear, speak to me," he yields, but I hold my peace. He's seeming to beg more than demand. "You haven't been alright since school started. You've been so blue these last days too. Is everything okay, my Betty?"
Our senior year started two weeks ago, a few days after my family's annual summer trip ended. He's correct; I haven't been alright since then, because something happened, or in other words, something bad I committed. But I cannot tell him why. I am not yet ready. Not yet brave enough to confess. Not even to myself.
"I... I am…" the words stumble on my tongue, searching for a lie or excuse, but a blanket covers my consciousness, leaving me standing like a wordless doll.
He holds my cheek with his palm, reassuring me. "If it's because you're afraid your academic score will flop, shake it off! You're the wittiest girl I know, and many colleges will yearn for you." Then his hand falls to my palm, holding my fingers as he continues, "And if it's about us not going to the same college, it's okay too. Baby, I know it's a terrifying thought, but we have the whole year to plan and discuss it. Don't worry, darling, just let me know when you're ready to talk about it." He wraps his fingers around my grip, lifting it to kiss it. "We'll work it out together because I love you... this love is timeless."
I become bereft and speechless. His genuine words mortify every part of my existence, making me feel ashamed and almost leaving me hollow. I do not deserve his love, because I deserve prison for what I did, but luckily I won't get time and I can show this affection to him until I find a way to confess my illicit sins without losing us.
In that moment, I draw a bright smile on my face, hold him back, and stare directly into his teak wood eyes with my electric blue irises. I blink a few times before stating, "You know what, let's hang out later at your place, I missed playing Grand Theft Auto together."
"Isn't Inez going to be upset?" he asks, concerned.
"She'll understand," I answer as I brush my light fingers through his adorable brown hair. I lay my other hand on his pumped-up chest, then I notice a little pale bruise on his face. I rub it gently, "Did you get into a fight again?"
"Nah, just a simple scratch from training," he replies.
"Really?" I arch a suspicious eyebrow.
"Yeah… You know it's not easy being the best hooker in Maplewood."
I laugh, showing my white teeth. "Still, it's marked on your face and it's kind of irritating me. I would've drawn kisses with my red lips around it until it mends if no one's watching."
A playful smirk hangs on his mouth. "If it were so, I'd willingly tear up my clothes and let you see all my scares right in this moment," he jests, causing me to giggle lightly. Sensing that the romance is fragile, but isn't dead.
He pulls me closer, throwing his hand on my back blue jeans pockets like a nineties' film while gazing at me from under my eyelashes with his dreamy gazes. We remain like that for a moment before I pull back and deliver a quick peck to his cheek.
"As much as it pains me to part from you now darling, I've got to go. I'm afraid the new student will mistakenly step into the girls' restroom again, and a catastrophe will occur all over," I wisecrack.
"As you wish your majesty," he bows mimicking voice matching my energy and we both laughed at our silliness.
He then smiles with a serenity that I cannot describe, like the luckiest boy alive, then holds my hands for the last time and kisses them lightly again, mumbling. "You're the love of my life, Betty... You know that, right?"
How don't I?
You said it about a million times, and it hits harder every time, breaking my cold heart and almost tearing my world apart, and the most painful thing is that I cannot say it back until I redeem my sins because I can lie to everyone except my heart.
"See you later," I say, skimming away with a fraudulent smile.
I wish I could silence the jungle inside me, find peace in his arms once more. But the more I try, the louder the doubts become, the tougher my sins return haunting me. I owe him honesty, even if it shatters us both. Yet, not now.
I walk fast to Mrs. Diana's office, trying to gaslight myself to not think about anything but my mentoring tour.
James is the best thing that's ever been mine, I have loved him three summers now, and at some point in our journey together, I wanted them all. I used to see sparks fly whenever he smiles, but now it becomes like a bullet of a shooting gun, ready to send me to the grave any moment of weakness or vulnerability. I'm terrified that I may break his heart any moment because he's unlike me, so genuine and kind.
I open the door as I arrive and gently step into the room. "Good morning, Mrs. Diana. I hope I'm not late."
"Betty!" Mrs. Diana greets me enthusiastically. "Not at all, you're on time. Take a seat, please."
I do so. I turn back and forth, but I see no one in the room but the two of us.
"Where is the new boy?" I ask with curiosity.
"He went to the restroom a few minutes ago," she says, and my face goes pale like a ghost. "Don't worry, honey. I told him to ask one of the pupils to guide him. I wouldn't risk it happening again."
I instantly exhale, feeling relieved.
"Is everything well with your last year here?" she tries to open a conversation while waiting for the person to return.
"Well, it feels like any normal year to be honest. But it's not as scary as the idea of leaving this place behind and having to move on and be on your own. I feel like I haven't experienced enough of high school life yet," I state, feeling a hint of a nostalgia's wave washes through me.
She nods comprehendingly. "I get you, honey. Life moves so fast when you're young, sometimes I wish I didn't grow up at all. I always love to refer to this memorable quote when we talk about this matter: So we beat on, boats against the current—"
"—borne back ceaselessly into the past." I finish the sentence, which is the line from The Great Gatsby, my all-time favorite read.
"Exactly, Betty." She beams lightly, "You never fail to prove why you've always been my favorite in class," she flatters me, and I smile, appreciating her words.
"You never have to give me another reason to elect you," I flatter back.
Mrs. Diana was my English teacher for the first two years here. She's one of the few reasons I couldn't bring myself to hate Maplewood entirely. From the moment she stepped into the classroom, all bright eyes and passionate energy, I knew I'd build a lifelong bond with her. Not just because she was young, pretty, and wore colorful scarves while yapping about Charlotte's Web and feminism, but because she adored teaching. Truly and deeply. Her passion clung to every word she spoke, and somehow, it swept me along too.
Without her, I might've never uncovered my hidden love for writing. I would've never believed I had a voice worth listening to. I owe her more than she'll ever know, for handing me the key to a valley made of spellbinding syllables, where I could bleed safely onto the page and call it art. I'll always be grateful, and I'll always be enchanted to see her again.
"How was your summer?" she asks, smiling warmly. "I heard you went out of Maplewood."
"Yeah. My dad likes to gather the whole family during the summer," I reply, trying to sound casual. "It's kind of become a yearly tradition."
"And how was it, your summer vacation?" she presses, gently, but her question brushes against parts of me I'd rather leave untouched.
"It was… fun. I had a good time," I say, a little too quickly. A little too vaguely. My voice stumbles, and so does my heart.
She nods, still beaming, as if my clipped answer was enough.
Then the door creaks open. A boy steps in.
Mrs. Diana straightens up with an expectant smile. "Ah, there you are." She turns toward the newcomer. "Betty, this is the new student I mentioned—"
But I've already turned to see him.
A flowy white shirt. Black, hippie-styled hair that falls just past his ears. Round glasses perched over narrowed dark eyes.
My breath catches.
My heart stutters.
And the whole world seems to halt.
Augustine Rivers.
My chair feels suddenly unstable beneath me.
"Mad woman?" he says, and just the sound of the name he gave me in his voice brings a sudden burn to the back of my throat, like salt in the wind, like the memory of ocean air at dusk, like the warmth of a time I thought I'd buried.
I don't answer. I can't.
"Augustine Rivers," I whisper instead, as if saying it out loud will make it less surreal. My voice trembles like I'm waking from a dream I didn't want to end, or maybe a nightmare I never finished.
We stare. The air between us is charged. Unspoken words crash into each other, forming an invisible tide rising fast between us. Mrs. Diana glances between us, clearly puzzled by the tension sparking off our silence.
Whatever brought us back into each other's orbit, I know it's not by chance.
They say destiny brings people together for a reason. But God! What reason could possibly explain this? What reason, other than chaos, would bring him back into my life?
My world is about to shift and might collapse.
I can feel it in my bones.