It’s funny, the way he looks at me sometimes. Like I am the only one he sees. His eyes twinkle, but they are tinged with sadness. Like he wishes he didn’t see me at all.
He is hurting. But like everything else, it is hidden under a façade of happiness. He doesn’t want me to know his hurt. But I know.
“Your eyes are like the ocean,” he said to me once. “But infinitely more beautiful.”
I want to tell him that he is beautiful too. Because he is. Inside and out. He doesn’t know this, but I know.
He is like a star; he shines. And when I’m with him, he makes me shine too. Inside and out.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, nudging me with his knee. My trance is shattered.
“You,” I want to say. But I don’t. Instead, I shrug and go back to eating my apple.
There a silence, but then he speaks again. His voice reverberates through my chest and warmth spreads through my body.
“How unbelievable is it that school is almost over?”
At first, I think he is talking about the school day, but then I realize he means the semester. Another year has gone by without any notice. I briefly think about the fact that we are going to college next year and it scares me. I don’t tell anyone, but I’m terrified.
I nod in agreement; not feeling motivated enough to fake a cheery mood. He stares at me like he wants to say something, but then thinks better of it and turns away for a short moment. When he looks at me again, his blue eyes are shimmering.
“Want to watch a movie at my place after school?” he asks.
I pause, wondering if there will be any implications if I go. He notices my hesitance and quickly masks his intentions.
“I mean…if you can’t, that’s totally fine. I just wanted t-to hang out.”
He is stuttering with nervousness and I cannot bring myself to reject him yet again. I open my mouth to answer, but am cut off by a pair of soft lips pressing against my own. They move deftly and confidently, sweeping in a way that could bring people to their knees. However, I am devoid of any emotion in regards to this kiss. I feel nothing. But I kiss back. Because I should. Because the consequences of not kissing back are far worse than experiencing a few moments of uneasiness.
When it has been long enough, I pull away and quickly wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. The source of the kiss has plopped himself next to me and is now playing with the hairs on the nape of my neck.
I glance at Liam and he meets my eye for a second before turning away. He is broken and it is my fault. My fault because I am not strong enough to admit the truth. I feel a pain in my chest and he is the only one who can eradicate it. He just doesn’t know that.
My thoughts are once again interrupted by a large hand waving in front of my face. I blink and look at the impatient boy.
“Are you back on Earth now?” he asks with a smile. His eyes light up and I can’t help but smile back.
Noah is erratic, yet he has been a constant in my life for nearly two years. He is gorgeous by anyone’s standards, with short, blonde hair and an enigmatic smile. Everyone tells me we’re perfect for each other, but in my mind, I always disagree. I know someone who would be far more perfect.
I see the slight crinkle in Liam's forehead—the one he gets when he is trying hard not to be angry—and suddenly feel a horrible churning in my stomach. I want to smooth the offending mark away from his face, but that involves physical contact, something I cannot carry out in the presence of Noah.
“Anyway,” he continues and I pretend I am listening to him. My eye catches Liam’s and we sit there, staring at each other, for the remainder of the lunch period. Our gazes are intertwined and I cannot fathom how long I'd be willing to stay like this. I am vaguely aware of the bell ringing but I do not make any efforts to move.
“Isabelle,” Noah says, pushing my shoulder. I don’t move. I am lost in Liam's eyes. He says my name again and again and yet I cannot move my attention away from the sight in front of me.
“Isabelle,” a different voice repeats, and I love the way my name touches his mouth. I look up at him and smile apologetically.
Noah rolls his eyes playfully. “What has gotten into you, silly girl?” He ruffles my hair affectionately.
I shrug in response and then kiss his cheek. He melts to my touch and I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt in my chest.
“Do you want to come over after school? My parents won’t be home,” he states pointedly.
“Can’t,” I say and look at Liam. “I have plans.”
The tips of a smile trace his mouth and he looks so breathtakingly beautiful that I know I have made the right decision.
