Pencils & Polaroids

17: unpredictable behavior

Pacifying my breathing was doing no good to me because every time I attempted to stop my tears from staining my cheeks, they only spilled more. Today was collectively a bad day and the right decision would've been me ditching the Carnival and going to Culver City with my mom. 

"I saw you fighting with that guy in the car," Rainer bringing back memories of Archer is pushing me back to the cliff I'm trying not to jump down. His tone is playful but I'm afraid that he'll say one extra wrong word and make my mind snap. "Very bad exchange of soda cans I must say. You both have terrible aim." 

I don't respond or turn to face him. I'm still reabsorbing the tears I let flow down without considering the mascara on my eyes. The last thing I need right now is criticism.

"Wow, whoever that guy was, he sure did a number on you, huh? Never has any of your fights with me earned me a reaction where you're this pissed off." His words and voice confirm how this is all a joke to him. "Maybe I should befriend him? Get on his team, ask for advice, and up my game?" 

Of course, he would consider anyone who succeeds in making me fall to the ground a legend. Those are the kind of people he draws his inspiration from--people who are experts at making me feel like shit. Why would he be any better? He does the same thing. 

The image of him holding Sam's hand resurfaces in my memory. I close my eyes and knit my brows to control the onfall of a new batch of tears that are moored with the way he took advantage of my vulnerability. I'm so sick of people using me.  

"No, seriously," Rainer sighs, "He who made you sulk so much is a descendent of God. I've never seen someone hold so much power--like the one person who can get such a loud reaction from you--"

He abruptly stops his smirk and his words when I turn around, uncaring about the mess my face is because of the continuous jet of weeps. I completely face him with confidence that I don't know where I picked it from. My blurry vision makes me see him taking a step back, with a shaken stance and shocked eyes that aren't able to rip away from my puddles. 

This is probably the first time Rainer Barcross has seen me cry. Perhaps the first time I've cried in front of anyone, ever. 

"Say it," I shrug. "He's god. He managed to do the one thing you've been putting your heart and soul into doing." I wipe my cheek and show him the stain of tears. "This is what you wanted, right? Finally, break me down, prove that you're superior, and make everyone cheer your name. Go ahead, go do your victory march." 

I step forward and turn his shoulders to the pier, attempting to push him out of the parking lot so he could leave me alone to complete my crying session. Except, he doesn't move an inch. Before it gets awkward, I put even more force to at least make him stumble a few steps backwards. Unfortunately, he doesn't move. 

This is probably the universe trying to tell me nothing today will go in my favor. I don't think I'd ever be able to accept that. 

"You got what you wanted, right? You saw me crying, are you happy?" I smile as more tears flow down my eyes. My eyebrows and lips both quiver when he doesn't look away from staring at my face. "I'm sure you have more allies to form now that you know how to rip me to pieces. So carry on, spread the word." I push his chest, but he is stone, and I'm lacking all kinds of strength. "Go!" I scream, grabbing his shirt in my fists. 

"No," he whispers so calmly that it triggers me even more. 

"Go, just leave, I need some time alone." I sob looking down at my boots. 

I hear him exhaling before I see both his hands diving deep inside the pockets of his pants. "I am not going anywhere." 

My eyes invariably close shut with a frown as I let my forehead fall against his solid chest. This is the second time I've shown him my vulnerable side today. And this time, it's worse. I'm actually sobbing as I clutch his shirt. He has seen real tears roll down my cheeks and collect as small puddles on his black shirt.