He looks almost nothing like the thin, lanky, shy but intense boy from back then; his too long bangs hanging way below his forehead, trying to stay hidden from the world.
But his eyes.
Nothing has changed there.
They’re still the same deep, dark green that draws the truth out of me with just a glance.
I wonder what I look like to him. Am I what he thought I’d look like at this age? Is he disappointed with how my body has changed?
And would I react the same way, if he touched me like he did back then?
I push the breath from my lungs, and with it, the thoughts of our past. Whatever he was back then, he’s different now.
Hard. Both in body and mind.
“I paid for you, you’re mine,” I can hear him say from our meeting earlier today, confident, in charge. 18-year-old Xavier would never have said such a thing. I guess I’m not the only one who has left that person behind.
“Hey, Isa, I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Cameron says as he walks past my open office door.
I tuck the envelope into my top drawer and wave to my business partner.
“Yeah, the, er, the meeting was quick.” I say, pushing the actual details of the meeting away.
“I brought you lunch from Donnini’s. I thought you might not have had time to eat.” He lays the small container on my desk.
I thank him for his thoughtful gesture with a smile. Not for the first time, I wonder where I’d be if not for Cam. Not here, that’s for sure. But just how much worse off, I don’t even want to wonder. His natural business acumen melds perfectly with my desire to just stick to the creative side and work with our customers. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s ever considered us in a romantic sense, or if he just knows that I never have and never will think of him in that way. The revolving door of women in and out of his office at all times of the day certainly doesn’t scream ‘pining for me,’ that’s for sure.
“How did your meeting go with Ash?” he asks through a mouthful of salad while sinking into the sofa opposite my desk.
“It was fine. Early days there, they still have a bunch of construction to do before it’s anywhere near time for us to come in. But I wanted to go in and get a feel for it.”
Cameron nods and takes a drink from his water tumbler. “Who did you meet with? Jade? Or the charity director?”
I take a breath, trying to keep my voice light. “Er, no. Not today. I met with their lawyer.” I stop short of saying his name.
“Oh, the guy who bid on you on the auction? What’s his name again?”
Shit.
“Um, Xavier, I think.”
“You ‘think’? Didn’t you meet with him today?”
“Er, yeah, sorry. I’ve just got a lot of other stuff on my mind. Yeah, his name is Xavier.”
I can feel Cameron watching me, so I busy myself with my lunch, sorting through the salad with my fork before taking a bite.
“Is everything okay, Iz?”
“Yeah.” I say, an octave above my normal tone. “Sure, why?”
“Nothing.” He gets up gathering his things. “Just that, if you feel uncomfortable working on this project, we can always pull out. I hate to, it’s not a good look pulling out of a charity gig, but, hey, we can just write them a big check. It’s all these organizations are looking for anyway. Money, money, money.”
He shrugs and leaves, closing my office door behind him. I wonder how much of what he said is true.
If they would rather have me, or a big check in my place.
I don’t know about the company, but I know what Xavier would say.
***
12 Years Ago
It’s been over a week since the incident at Dairy Joy with Xavier and Jack, and even though I’ve shown up at the basketball court every day and left notes on the wall telling him when I’d be there next, he hasn’t been there once.
I can’t help replaying the look on his face when Jack taunted him about his mother and their home situation. The cracks in his pride showing in those green eyes of his, burning his cheeks red as he tried to push it down. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to yell out that none of those things mattered to me, that it didn’t change how I saw him, felt about him.
But I know, I know him enough to know, that he needed time to regroup, to mend his pride, to heal the wounds he’d endured at the ridicule of his peers.
But he’s had enough time and I’m going to tell him so.
I go to the one place I know he’ll be.
I haven’t been back there since the first time he brought me, but I still remember the route, where the gap is in the bushes through to the trail that leads to the lake. To him.
I arrive, backpack heavy on my shoulders, breath held already anticipating the view.
It doesn’t disappoint. It’s late in the day and the sun is already lagging in the sky. The light reflects off the ripples in a way that makes me instantly sleepy, causing my eyelids to feel heavy, lowering to shield from the glare.
It’s breathtaking.
I step to the left and see his tent, and two feet poking out from the flaps.
I wander over and drop to my knees, peering in. He’s lying on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, textbook lying on his chest. His chest that is rising and falling with deep breaths. Asleep.
I slide the backpack off and quietly, gently crawl into the tent, laying my body next to his, careful not to disturb his slumber.
The sun must’ve made him a victim of its sleep spell as well, and he doesn’t stir. I watch him breathe, in and out, in and out for a few cycles, before I lie back, and let the sound of the water washing up against the lake edge and the birds singing their last songs of the day lull me into a nap.
***