AYDEN
____________________
STUPID. I WAS SO STUPID. It was so damn stupid and idiotic of me to kiss her. Hell, I don't even know what I was thinking, or whatever the heck I was expecting. I didn't even think.
But Juliette just had this wishy-washy effect on me and we had finally gotten back to laughing and talking, and I couldn't help it. And I know that that part of me isn't just a horny teenage boy talking.
Besides, thanks to me, I'd caused this girl to run away crying. Great. It didn't only knock down my ego a few notches, but I started feeling really empty inside like there was no purpose in life.
It sounded awfully deep, I know, and it was awfully cheesy and clichéd of me to say, but it was one of the few ways I knew that I love Juliette. And the fact that she kissed me back... Let's just say that I wouldn't be catching my plane to Cambridge any time soon with that still going around in my head.
I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I didn't realize Juliette's parents walking towards me with anxious looks on her faces.
"Ayden," Mrs. A started, "something happened to Juliette."
Panic wracked my chest, and I felt the blood drain out of my face. "Where is she?" I asked worriedly. "What happened to her? Please tell me she's okay."
Mr. and Mrs. Ashton exchanged a concerned look before filling me in on what had just happened.
We all rushed to the hospital right away.
* * *
"IT WAS A PRETTY bad accident, from the looks of it," the doctor told us. "She will be fine, of course, but I'm afraid she'll have to wear a cast for at least four weeks and even shorter of a time if she's extremely lucky."
Lucky my ass, I thought. Of course Jules is gonna be lucky. I hope she is. I know she is.
"But she's fine, right?" I asked anxiously anyways. "Tell me she'll be okay."
The doctor—Doctor Markham, apparently—examined me with curiosity. "Ms. Ashton will be just fine," he said coolly. "But, young man, I'm afraid you'll have to get in line with the others." He pointed over to the rather long line of guys with flowers and balloons with 'Get Better Soon' written on them in some kinda printed lettering.
Of course, there was no stopping the flow of thoughts rushing into my head. They were all worried for Juliette's safety, I'm sure, but I know for a fact that she barely knows any of them. Don't tell me she has her own little fan club, too, because that's just a whole lot more jealousy that I have to deal with.
Doctor Markham turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Ashton. "It appears that your daughter is quite popular," he said. "I'd keep my eye on these gentlemen, if I were you, especially this bloke." He patted me on the shoulder, chuckling while I scowled.
Exchanging a couple laughs with Mr. And Mrs. Ashton, he left with a nurse who was filling him in on the medical status of a patient in the ER, mentioning something about a cactus and dehydration.
"Waiting in line, my ass," I muttered under my breath as I turned to Mrs. A. "You don't mind me going to see her first, right? Because I feel like this whole situation is my entire fault."
Mrs. A patted me on the back. "Don't blame yourself, Ayden," she said in a motherly tone of voice. "It was the other driver's fault. Apparently, the man had drunk himself stupid and swerved into the wrong lane." She then gave me a pointed look. "And don't tell yourself your gonna kill the guy, all right? He's already facing charges for drunk driving, and hurting someone."
"Good," Mr. Ashton and I both muttered under our breaths at the same time.
"So, can I see Jules first?" I asked them. "Please? I need to tell her that I lo—" I trailed off as an idea suddenly struck me. It was one of the possible ways
I have to say that I was sorry to her. Not that I was sorry for kissing her—because no guy in their right mind would do that—but I was gonna apologize for seemingly leading her on because that wasn't what I wanted to look like to her.
"Uh, never mind," I called as I grabbed my car keys and unceremoniously ran down the hallway. "I got something else in mind."
I grinned thinking of the idea, but at the same time, I felt nervous about it. I hoped that Jules wouldn't hate me, and I hoped even more that she would forgive me, even if it means that she didn't love me back.
* * *
BY THE TIME I got back to the hospital visiting hours were done, so I was forced to come back tomorrow morning. When I got there the following day, Juliette's room was heavily adorned with balloons, stuffed animals, and flowers—and half of the flowers were actually from me, all of which were hand-picked begonias which I began to grow a little attached to now that this was the second time I've gotten Jules these flowers.
But in case Jules didn't get the point, I actually bothered to write something down in a card that I bought along with the bouquet. Maybe she'd read it; maybe she wouldn't. I really hoped she would, though. After all, it wasn't every day that I wrote down my feelings on paper, even if I was absolute shit at doing it.
After checking in with the clerk at the front desk, I rushed up to Juliette's room with my flowers in hand.
Jules was still fast asleep from yesterday's accident. I smiled when I saw her peaceful and serene face, and I leaned down impulsively to kiss her on the forehead, holding her hand as I took the chair next to her. I waited for her to wake up and dozed off myself, only to awake a few hours later when I heard her voice.
"A-Ayden?" she asked, stirring, her tone soft and befuddled like she had just woken up. "What're you doing...? Actually, what am I doing he—"
"You were in a car accident," I informed her as I sat up hurriedly. "And as you can see"—I pointed over to the table filled with presents from Jules's not-so-secret admirers—"everyone wants to know if you're okay."
Juliette nodded, rubbing her eyes like a cute little child. "I feel fine," she said weakly. "There's just a little pain in my left leg, but other than that, I feel just great."
"Phew," I said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Your mom and dad were pretty worried for you, you know."
"And where are they right now?" she asked coldly, her expression suddenly guarded as she practically glared at me with her dark brown eyes.
I felt my heart drop into my stomach, knowing that she didn't actually want me here. "They had some kinda meeting this morning," I told her gently. "Said they would come back 'round the afternoon to check how you're doing." I paused. "You know, Jules," I continued from beside her. "I was worried about you too. Do you blame me in any way for what happened?"
She stared at her hands intently, refusing to look at me. "No," she muttered. "I don't blame you, Ayden. It was obviously that other guy's fault for being in the wrong lane."
"But you don't blame me, right?"
This time, Jules threw a death glare in my direction. "Not absolutely everything has to be about you, Ayden," she said bitterly. "In fact, what are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be elsewhere flirting with other girls at the mall?"
"No," I said as I leaned forward. "I'm here because I care about you more, Jules. Even if you don't feel the sa—I mean, I'm still your best friend. It's been like that since my mom took me to see you the day you were born. I was two, and you always played with me, remember? Best friends since then."
If I expected some kind of reaction from Jules because of that, I got none since she stared stoically ahead. "Can't you just like go away forever or something?" she said. "Because I would really love that."
But something in her voice cracked, and I knew that she was just lying I didn't think to accuse her of it now; that'd probably just make her angrier.
"I'm sorry for the millionth time," I said apologetically and as meaningfully as possible. "But Juliette, I don't regret anything that I—"
She stopped me there, her eyes giving me a hard, cold look. "Don't say anything you don't mean, Ayden," she replied, her tone icy.
"Jules, I don't see why you think I don't and wouldn't mean anything I say!" I said, nearly raising my voice. "Look: I meant it when I said that I loved you. And I still do, and I have no problem saying it now! I love you. And I mean it.
"Do you even know why I accepted the Harvard scholarship in the first place? Yes, I was being selfish, but it was because I thought that I had no chance of being with you so I gave up. But after I could tell that you liked me... I couldn't possibly think of going to Harvard without confirming it. You just— I don't think you have any idea of-of this affect you have."
"Ayden..."
"And then we kissed. Twice now. Don't even think that it meant nothing to me because it did. Juliette, the first time we kissed two years ago on your birthday was one of the best days of my life. It was like fireworks going off in my head and the best part was that you were the first girl I've ever kissed," I said. "We kissed yesterday, too, didn't we? That meant a lot to me too. And when you kissed me back I—" I cut myself off, getting too carried away with what I was saying.
"Juliette," I said after taking a deep breath. "I am crazy about you. You drive me insane, to be honest, and I wish that you—" I wish that you would love me, too, I thought mournfully.
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Just... never mind. Forget it. Forget I ever said anything to begin with."
I got up and headed for the door, pausing as I rested my hand on the doorknob, staring ahead and refusing to look at Juliette. "The begonias are from me," I whispered only loud enough so she would hear me. "I wrote something there, but I guess you don't have to feel obliged to read it or anything."
Juliette finally looked up at me, tears welling up in her beautiful brown eyes. "Ayden," she said softly. "I—"
"Just call me if you need anything, okay?" I said as I walked through the door, closing it quietly behind me.
Not that you would call me anyways, I thought to myself as I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked to my car with the saddest expression I've ever known in my life.
Who knew that I, Ayden Lancaster, could care so much about a girl I knew would never love me back.
* * *
I HADN'T TALKED to Juliette in two weeks. I could barely eat, I could barely sleep, and the manager at the surf store I worked at, Northern Sunset, sent me home early, claiming that I needed a break from working too hard and shooed me back home, where I began to sulk some more, causing Scott to complain that I was letting him win seven times in a row in a game of Call of Duty.
"Aw, come on, Ayden!" he yelled as he threw his controller down on the couch cushion. "You always win without a sweat, but now I'm kicking major ass! What's up with you?"
Groaning, I tossed my controller to the side and slumped down on the couch. "I can't stop thinking about Juliette," I said. "I barely sleep and I—"
"—barely function at all," Scott finished for me. With a laugh, he added, "Okay, this time, I'm serious about the girl talk. Come on, buddy. Let it all out." He then leaned over and sat with his face in his hands, his face mockingly serious.
I shoved him, more out of plain annoyance that playfully. "It isn't funny," I said. "I've already told her I love her and she hasn't called or texted or anything like that. And for heck's sake, her bedroom window is literally ten feet across from mine on the side of the house, and I get nothing."
"Whoa, man," Scott said as he rested a hand on my shoulder. "I stopped listening after you said the big L-word. That's huge."
"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck uneasily. "Tell me about it. I've already told her thrice now and..." I shook my head, slumping down even more.
Scott gave me a pointed look. "You are wa-a-y too cheesy sometimes," he said, with a chuckle. "But I can tell your real crazy about Jules."
I sighed. "I am," I admitted. "That girl drives me insane and I keep thinking about her no matter what I do to distract myself."
My brother looked at me gravely. "There's only one thing to do," he said in a serious voice. "You've got to be the cheesiest, most clichéd guy ever and throw pebbles at her window and wait outside in the rain and all that chizz. Proclaim your love or whatever."
"Scott," I said as I finally got up. "Do you honestly think that would work?"
He shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Never tried it before. Although, stuff like that's in chick flicks and stuff so you might as well try it."
I gave him a confused look. "And since when were you the expert on chick flicks?" I asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Scott shook his head. "Never mind that," he said, ignoring the question I'd asked him. "Are you going to do it or not?"
Even though going to Scott for advice on girls would mean the end of the line for you, I tried his suggestion anyways.
How bad could it end up, right?