The Weight of You (and Me)

06

PICKING UP THE PIECES

〰・♡・〰

Reaching a safe distance from Sarah and her clique, Iñigo apologized. "Gotta head home early, Keera. Didn't exactly want to deal with Sarah." He then took his leave, leaving Keera alone.

The stale air of the hallway hung heavy as Keera forced a smile at Iñigo's retreating back. His mumbled excuse about needing to get home early rang hollow, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "Used?" she breathed, the word echoing in the sterile silence. Had their conversation been a mere shield against Sarah's venomous barbs? A knot of anger tightened in her stomach, quickly eclipsed by a deeper pang of loneliness.

Pushing past the disappointment, Keera focused on the familiar route home. Each step echoed in the quiet, amplifying the thudding of her heart. Suddenly, a twig snapped in the nearby bushes, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her. Spinning around, she squinted into the gathering darkness.

"Who's there?" she called out, her voice barely a whisper.

A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into a sliver of moonlight. It was Joshua. His usual swagger was replaced by a nervous energy, a stark contrast to the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Just me, Keera," he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. A million questions battled for dominance in her mind, but the memory of the video, the cruel laughter that had erupted in the auditorium, overshadowed them all. The humiliation still burned fresh, a searing scar on her pride.

"Look, Joshua," she began, her voice tight with barely contained anger, "I'm not exactly in the mood for company right now. But if you have something to say, go ahead. Make it quick." Her arms folded defensively across her chest, daring him to speak.

The air crackled with tension. Joshua hesitated, his gaze flickering away from her piercing stare. "Scholarship," he finally mumbled, the word hanging heavy in the air. Keera scoffed, a harsh sound that echoed off the deserted hallway walls.

"Afraid of losing your scholarship?" she spat, disbelief lacing her voice. "That's a convenient excuse, Joshua. You knew exactly what Sarah would do with that video. Don't insult my intelligence."

A flicker of pain crossed Joshua's face, momentarily extinguishing the mischievous glint. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if searching for the right words.

Keera's harsh words hung in the air, a challenge Joshua seemed unable to meet. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant drone of the school lights flickering on. A flicker of defiance sparked in Joshua's eyes, momentarily replacing the nervous energy.

"Maybe you're right, Keera," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Maybe it was an excuse. But the truth is... it's complicated."

He took a hesitant step closer, but Keera didn't flinch. "Complicated how?" she demanded, her voice a tightrope walk between anger and a sliver of curiosity.

Joshua hesitated again, then blurted out, "Sarah threatened to expose something about my family. Something that could get them kicked out of the country. I... I panicked."

Keera's heart lurched. A threat like that could explain Joshua's fear, but a part of her still questioned his motives. "Proof?" she challenged, her voice softer this time.

Joshua fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. "This," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He unfolded it, revealing a picture. It was a picture of a man, his face obscured by shadows, handing a briefcase to another man in a dark suit. 

 The caption scrawled beneath it read: "Your dear old dad involved in some shady business, wouldn't you say, Joshua?"

Keera stared at the picture, a cold dread settling in her stomach. This wasn't just a prank anymore. This was serious. She looked up at Joshua, his face etched with a mixture of fear and desperation.

"This changes things, doesn't it?" he pleaded, his voice barely audible.

Keera's mind raced. A part of her wanted to dismiss Joshua's story as another lie, another ploy to manipulate her. But the flicker of fear in his eyes, the desperation in his voice – it felt genuine. She stared at the photo, the grainy image fueling a growing unease.

"When is this deadline?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua flinched at the question. "Two days," he mumbled, his shoulders slumping. "She said if I don't do what she wants by then, she'll send the photo to the principal, maybe even the immigration office."

Panic gnawed at Keera's insides. She couldn't ignore a threat like that, not if it meant jeopardizing Joshua's family. Yet, the memory of the video, the sting of betrayal, was still fresh. Helping him meant putting her trust in him again, a fragile trust that had already been shattered.

"I need some time to think," she finally said, her voice tight. "Don't contact me. I'll reach out if..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air.

As Joshua turned to leave, his face etched with disappointment, Keera found herself blurting out, "Wait!" Joshua paused, a flicker of hope rekindled in his eyes. Keera, however, couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Just... be careful," she mumbled; the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Joshua hesitated for a moment longer, then disappeared into the shadows, leaving Keera alone with the weight of a secret and the dawning realization that her feelings for him were far more complicated than she'd ever admitted.

Keera watched Joshua disappear into the shadows, his words echoing in her mind. Two days. That was all she had to decide the fate of his family, and potentially her happiness.

The memory of the video still burned, a searing reminder of Joshua's betrayal. Could she ever truly trust him again? But the flicker of fear in his eyes, the desperation in his voice – it felt genuine. Was this threat real, or another elaborate lie?

The weight of the decision pressed down on Keera. If she helped Joshua, it meant sacrificing her connection with Iñigo. Their friendship, though new, was a source of comfort and support. Giving it up felt like giving up a part of herself.

Suddenly, a text message pinged on her phone. It was Joshua.

"Meet me at the park tomorrow after school. I have an idea," the message read.

A sliver of hope, or perhaps a new trick? Keera couldn't tell. Yet, a desperate curiosity gnawed at her. She had to know what Joshua was planning. With a heavy sigh, she typed a single word in response:

"Fine."